Page 52 of Forecheck
Leave it to Brent Jean to change my mind.
“Would you like that, baby?” he asked when I didn’t respond, bending to press a kiss to my lips. I tasted myself there, and it only heightened my desire. “Would you like me to make you come all over my fingers?”
“Please,” I whimpered.
Brent smirked. “Told you I’d have you begging for it.”
And then he drove those fingers back into me, twisting and curling them, pumping in and out methodically until I was clawing at his arm, truly begging for that push over the edge.
“You think I should let you come?” he asked. “But your pussy feels so good around my fingers. I could do this all night, Blondie. You’re making me so hard. I can only imagine what you’ll feel like around my cock.”
His eyes darkened further, the irises nearly swallowing his pupils. Even in my sex-addled haze, I couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing it—how he was holding back from touching himself, or asking me to do it for him.
The man’s self-control was impressive.
He stilled, staring at me expectantly, and I realized I hadn’t answered his initial question.
“Yes,” I answered at last. “Yes, let me come.”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Please, Brent.Please.”
A wicked grin tipped up his mouth, and his hand moved again, though at a leisurely pace, nowhere near the pressure and speed I needed.
I nearly screamed in frustration as he said, “I have a question for you first.”
“I don’t really think now is the time for conversation,” I ground out, wiggling my hips.
“It’s the perfect time.”
“Brent!”
“I love it when you scream my name,” he said with a chuckle, and I dug my nails harder into his arm, pressing deep crescents into his skin. “Fine, fine. I was just thinking we should define our relationship.”
“Now?” I asked, incredulous and frustrated. I removed my hand from his arm and moved it to my clit, but before I could apply any pressure, he shifted, grabbed my wrist, and held it over my head. I thought about going for it with the other, but I knew he’d thwart that attempt, too.
“This is my pussy right now, Berk. You don’t get to touch it.”
I should’ve been afraid of the way he loomed over me, but the pure power in his body, and the possessiveness in his eyes, in his words…fuck I wanted him to look at me and speak to me like that all the time.
“Yes, now,” he growled.
“Get to the point before I explode,” I demanded. “You’re fucking wicked, and I’m going to get you back for this.”
“I look forward to it,” he said with a chuckle. Then, finally, “Will you be my girlfriend?”
“You…” I was already out of my mind, but something about those five words, so simple yet so monumental, somehow heightened my arousal. “God,yes. Now will you please make me come?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
I briefly considered strangling him, but his hand picked up the pace again, his bicep bunching, the ink waving like a flag as he worked his fingers in and out, faster and faster. And right when I thought I’d simply cease to exist if I didn’t come, he pressed his thumb to my clit.
I went off like a bomb, writhing beneath him, moaning unintelligible words at the ceiling while he murmured how beautiful I was, how sexy I was, how fucking hot I was when I came. How tightly my pussy gripped his fingers, and how he couldn’t wait for the day I was milking his cock instead of his hand.
The spasms and aftershocks lasted longer than any orgasm I’d ever experienced, and I was covered in sweat when I stilled at last, though my heart remained thumping loudly in my chest. I opened my eyes to once again find Brent licking his fingers clean.
“How was that?” he asked, his smirk telling me he already knew the answer.
