Page 77 of My Brother's Enemy
I exhaled, melting against him. “Tyler.”
“Yeah. Say my name. I want you to scream it.” He nipped at my throat this time, shoving those fingers so deep inside of me.
“Fuck. They’re so—Tyler. I can’t?—”
“You can,” he said, breathing hard. “I promise you that youwill.”
He kept pistoning his fingers into me, but my brain started working again and I remembered what I’d originally been doing. I lifted up a foot, shoved down his pants and hooked my foot inside of them enough to step them down all the way. His boxer briefs went with them. My hand wrapped around his cock. It was long and hard and fully upright.
He slowed in his ministrations as I gave him one long smooth stroke. “Shit,” he said under his breath.
I liked that sound. I liked it a lot. “You like this?” I was almost goading him.
He’d closed his eyes as I gave him another stroke but opened them again to gaze at me. They narrowed. A sudden spark showed and I paused, not sure if I liked whatever that meant, but a mean glint pulled at his mouth.
He taunted back, “I think tonight’s about what I want. What do you think about that?”
I opened my mouth, a retort on the tip of my tongue, but he pulled his fingers out and flipped me around. I was facing the door before I could comprehend what was happening. In that space of time, he stuck his fingers back inside of me, positioning my ass out toward him.
My hands went to the door.
My heart was pumping.
“Tyler—”
I heard the sounds of a condom wrapper, then felt him move between my legs. His fingers slid out, and his cock slid in. He went all the way to the hilt, until I felt him bottom out. “Oh. God.Tyler.”
He held still, panting against my shoulder. “Jesus Christ, you feel good. Why do you feel like this? Every fucking time?” He began moving inside of me.
I groaned, loud and low and felt it all the way to my stomach. “Oh. Tyler. Oh. Fuck,” I hissed as he began going faster.
I could only brace myself, except my palms were sweaty so I couldn’t get a good hold on the door.
Tyler repositioned me, picking me up a little and he kicked my feet apart, settling more comfortably between my legs. He pounded into me. His hips were hitting me. Over and over again. He was fucking me sofuckinggood.
I gasped, trying to catch my breath. Resting my forehead on the door, I looked down, but the view was of our joined pants on the floor. His feet were there. His hands gripped the sides of me, and he just kept thrusting.
God.
I couldn’t—I gasped for air.
Pleasure was blasting me. It was a continuous onslaught.
I didn’t want it to end.
I wanted him to keep fucking me. All night long. Every night.
I heard myself begging, “Tyler.” I didn’t know what I was asking for, but it was a whispered plea in my throat. He paused, stopping, and I flailed at him behind me. “What are you doing?”
“Holding off,” he grated behind me. His hand shifted, going to my clit and rubbing me.
I was almost crying. “No. No. I?—”
He shifted me again, holding me even more upright off the floor and away from the door. He was almost completely holding my weight, standing firmly on his two planted feet. “What do youwant?” He kept one arm wrapped tight around my waist, holding me in place for him, but the other slid up my front to wrap around my throat. He didn’t squeeze me. He just cupped me there, his thumb brushing over my neck. Soothing. He pressed a hot kiss to the back of my neck. “Tell me what you want?”
“I want you,” I mewled, my head falling forward.
“Babe.” He began rolling my hips over his dick. He was using me as his own personal sex toy. I didn’t know how he was doing this, but my mind was exploding.
