Page 55 of Brass
Heat floods me, fast and immediate, my body responding to his words before my mind fully processes them. Not regret. Not retreat. But desire—raw and unfiltered.
“Oh,” I breathe, relief and renewed hunger washing through me in equal measure.
His thumbs trace slow circles over my hipbones, grip firm but patient. “Unless you’d rather keep telling me what I’m thinking?”
The challenge in his voice sparks a smile I can’t suppress. “I think I prefer your version.”
“Then stop talking.” His hands tighten, drawing me forward. “Ride me.”
I don’t need to be told twice. The sheet slips from my body as I swing a leg over him, straddling his lap. The blunt heat of him slides against me, teasing my entrance before I sink down, inch by inch, taking him into me until he’s buried completely. My breath catches, thighs trembling at the stretch.
“God, you feel incredible.” His voice is a groan, rough and reverent, eyes riveted to the place where our bodies join.
I start to move, rolling my hips slowly, savoring the drag of him inside me. “You’ve imagined this?”
“For days.” His gaze travels upward, lingering on the sway of my breasts as I find my rhythm. “Since that first night in the hotel. But this—” his hands glide up my sides, palms spreading wide, “—this is better than every fantasy combined.”
His hands cup my breasts, at first exploratory, then more deliberate. His thumbs circle my nipples until they harden into sensitive peaks. He watches my face as he experiments—gentle kneads, soft caresses—before abruptly shifting, pinching one nipple between thumb and forefinger, sharp enough to draw a gasp.
“What do you like?” His voice is low, commanding, eyes locked on mine. “The softer version—” another gentle roll of his thumb, “—or something with more bite?”
My body answers before I can. The sharp inhale. The sudden clench around his cock.
A slow, knowing grin spreads across his face. “Interesting.”
“What?” My word stumbles, my rhythm faltering as his fingers twist, harder this time.
“You like the pain.” He does it again, watching me flutter around him, watching the way my eyes squeeze shut against the flood of sensation. His grin turns wicked. “Are you kinky, Celeste Hart?”
“I—” My breath breaks on a moan as his hips rise to meet mine, thrusting deeper. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s a shame.” He pinches harder, rolling until sparks shoot straight to my core. “Because I very much am.”
“I didn’t say I’m not interested,” I gasp, hands braced on his shoulders as he thrusts up into me with growing power. “I’ve just never?—”
“Never been with someone who knew how to push the right buttons?” He sits up, sudden and deliberate, changing the angle. His cock drives into me deeper, harder, wringing a cry from my lips. His mouth replaces his fingers, teeth grazing one nipple, tongue soothing the sting.
“Never been interested before,” I admit, breathless, thighs trembling from the effort of keeping pace. “But you—” my words fracture as he thrusts up again, sharp and precise, “—you might be the man who changes my mind.”
“Might be?” His eyes flash, darkening with something primal and possessive. One hand fists in my hair, tugging my head back, baring my throat to him. “Sweetheart, I won’t just change your mind.” His hips snap upward, making me cry out. “I’ll breakit. I’ll be the man who shows you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
The promise in his voice, the certainty of it, sends a shiver racing down my spine, even as my body clenches tighter around him. He drags my mouth to his, kissing me hard—no tenderness, all claim. His hips drive upward, forcing me to ride him harder, faster, until the wet slap of our bodies echoes in the quiet room.
“Ride me harder,” he growls against my lips, his breath hot, commanding. “Show me how much you fucking want this.”
I obey, hips snapping, breasts bouncing with each thrust. He grips me tighter, guiding my rhythm, not letting me falter. His control is relentless, addictive, every demand peeling away another layer of resistance I didn’t realize I had.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough with desire. “Taking me so perfectly. So responsive to every touch.” His thumb finds my clit, circling with precise pressure that makes my thighs tremble. “Come for me, Celeste. Let me feel you.”
The command, delivered in that tone that seems hardwired to my nervous system, detonates inside me. Pleasure rips through me in violent waves, my body clenching around him as I cry out his name. He follows moments later, groaning into my mouth, hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise as he drives up into me one final time.
I collapse against his chest, boneless, both of us breathing hard, sweat cooling between our bodies. His arms wrap around me, holding me close as the aftershocks leave me trembling. Relief, exhaustion, release—finally.
But Ryan isn’t done.
“Stay with me.” His voice is low, commanding, already pulling me back from the edge of recovery. His hips shift beneath me, cock still thick and heavy inside me, the slight movement making me gasp. “Don’t drift. Don’t think you’re finished.”
“Ryan—” My protest is a weak, broken sound. My body feels wrung out, too sensitive to take more.
