Page 26 of Discord
“I’m comin—”
Mia’s lips parted though she never finished the sentence. I fucked her through the orgasm, vision blurring and my heart pounding. Red, hot fire burnt through me as I came with her, pounding into her until she drained me completely.
Heavy breaths filled my ears while Mia rested her cheek against the wooden surface of the table. My face rested between her shoulder blades; fingers coiled into her hair. With an open-mouth kiss on her back, my eyes drooped to watch the sticky, white cum leaking out of her and onto her thighs. I cursed under my breath and picked up her limp body to carry her into the master bedroom, settling her on my bed. I wondered—with slight amusement—if she’d ask me about protection again.
“What are you doing?” Mia gasped when I climbed on top of her.
“Did you think we were done?” It had been months. We were only just getting started.
“If we aren’t, then you should grab a condom.”
I interlaced our fingers, pinning her hands to the sides of her head. “We both know I’m not going to do that.” Mia tended to snoop. She probably searched my bathroom closet and was privy to the knowledge that I owned a box of condoms.
“Do you have an inept ability to use condoms? They taught us how to use them in health class. If you give me a banana, I’m happy to demonstrate.”
The fact she’d demonstrate on a banana when she had a real-life cock at her disposal was amusing. However, I was too distracted to retort. Though the urgency from earlier had subsided, I needed her again. There were too many things I wanted from her.
A hand slipped between her legs as I brushed gentle kisses over her skin. My fingers were soaked by the time Mia moaned, thoughts of condoms all but forgotten.
Having calmed the beast, I slid inside her gently. My forehead rested against hers as I pushed deeper and deeper. Cupping her face, I forced her to look at me while I fucked her nice and slow.
When her breath hitched, my grip on her hands tightened. “Are you close?”
She nodded, teeth sunk into her bottom lip, eyes closed.
I kept up the long and slow strokes, making her hiss. The unrelenting pace made her legs clamp against my sides, and she shuddered the same way I did; a junkie getting a fix.
I came inside her, mumbling her name and burying my face in the crook of her neck. Mia’s body sagged alongside mine. Wide doe eyes stared up innocuously while I ran my fingers through her hair and peppered her skin with kisses. Her eyelids drooped shut, but not before reprimanding me for coming inside her a second time.
Mia
I wokeup in Brandon’s bed, alone and naked. The first image to pop up was Brandon curling into bed next to me and stroking my hair. I went to sleep haunted by those images and woke up dreaming about them. Consumed by them. The clean, rainforest smell on the comforter indicated that Brandon had recently evacuated the bed. I threw on one of his shirts and decided to do the same.
The condo was quiet as a graveyard until I drew closer to the kitchen. Even his footwork, the way Brandon shuffled his feet, sounded graceful. And the sight of him was one to behold. Shirtless, wet hair, gray sweatpants—quite possibly the sexiest combination on a man—hovered over the sizzling stove with a spatula in hand.
Grocery bags were neatly piled on the kitchen counter. I recognized the logos on the bag. Brandon’s apartment building had an attached market for groceries and such. I had lurked in that store plenty of times, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and knew the shop’s logo a little too well. It made sense to do a grocery run and restock since Brandon hadn’t lived here in a while. What didn’t make sense was the reason for it. I thought he brought me here for nefarious purposes, not to feed me breakfast.
“You’re making breakfast?”
He glanced up from the pan and nodded. His gaze followed me to the kitchen. The heat of it touched every part of my skin, legs, thighs, breasts. Walking toward him under this steady scrutiny took an eternity, and I stopped with a couple of feet between us.
My eyes inadvertently dropped to his bare chest, cut abs, defined V slopes, and protruding veins. Everything about him was mouthwatering. However, the most fascinating item on the list was that ambiguous tattoo on his torso. I had been curious about it since the first time I saw him naked.
“What does your tattoo mean?” I asked, fingers reaching out.
He stared at the fingers tracing the ink. “First, tell me what happened to your neck,” he countered.
I dropped my hand. “What are you making?” I asked instead, peering into the pan.
“Pancakes.”
“Oh.” I could never stomach heavy breakfast food. I was a cereal and Pop-Tarts kind of girl.
I jumped when the toaster made a whacking noise and two Pop-Tarts sprang out. Brandon grabbed the Pop-Tarts and placed a carton of oat milk along with a box of cereal on the table. The pancakes were for him.
My heart sang loudly. Was it possible Brandon Cooper paid attention over the last month? Could he now cite my actual age, quite possibly my likes and dislikes?
Feeling unsure of what to do with this information, my eyes tracked his movements. It was gratifying to watch this man do mundane things in his element. Once he finished cooking, we sat at the table and ate in companionable silence. It felt natural as if it were normal for us to have breakfast together.
