Page 96 of Quiet Protector
Can you blame him for standing proud? His face is gorgeous, his body is divine, and his smile, although slightly crooked, is perfect. He should be strutting like a peacock. He just doesn’t know how because it was never taught to him.
I fell in love with a courageous, handsome, and lively boy when I was only a child, and I get to stand across from that same courageous, handsome, and lively man twenty-three years later.
How lucky am I?
Even if he doesn’t touch me, this moment will stay with me forever. We’re stripped, naked and raw, and completely free. It’s just us. Me and the boy who piggybacked me across a sloshy field because it didn’t matter how impossible the task, he never let me down.
Just like he doesn’t this time, either.
When the emotions teaming between us become too much to bear, Brandon’s fingers weave through my hair, his lips land on my neck, and his arm bands around my back to pull me in close to his fit body. “Tell me your triggers?”
Although I’d prefer to keep my assault out of our exchange, Dr. Avery is adamant this is a step we need to take to move our relationship past the friends’ zone. We need to be open and honest, both inside and outside of the bedroom.
As my hand drops to stroke Brandon’s cock through his boxer shorts, which I’m pleased to report is virile and thick despite the uncomfortable subject matter we’re discussing, I say, “Don’t flip me over or pin my arms behind my back.”
“Okay,” Brandon agrees softly, kissing my neck in a way that makes me want to purr like a kitten. “Anything else?”
While using the precum pooled on the tip of his cock as lubricant to quicken my strokes, I mutter, “Don’t fully shave beforehand. Keep the stubble you had when we were kids, and you were too lazy to shave. I like the roughness.” He acknowledges he heard me by dragging his stubble-covered chin across my collarbone and over the mounds of my breasts. “Yesss…” I hiss out on a moan, “… just like that.”
After tugging his boxer shorts the rest of the way down his thighs, he guides me onto the bed like he did all those months ago. Strands of blonde hair fall into his hazel eyes that are a little greener today when he commences sliding my lace-topped stockings down my quivering thighs. “Anything else?”
“One thing,” I say, breathing heavily. Can you blame me for my gasping response? The person I’ve loved for two decades is perched above me, naked, thick, and staring at me like he loves me. I’d be insane to act coolly right now. I’m on the verge of climaxing. Everything is beyond me right now—including acting.
“What is it?” Brandon’s breaths are as vocal as mine, his excitement just as palpable.
As my eyes dance between his, I mutter, “Be you. That’s all I need.You.”
He doesn’t formulate a response. He just smiles, dumps my stockings onto the floor next to the bed, then drags his tongue down my jittering stomach. He’s not anywhere near my aching sex, but the sensation it roars through my body is heavenly. He’s cherishing me as only he can, loving and supporting me with both touch and emotions.
When the travels of his tongue stop within an inch from my aching sex, panic sets in. “I swear to God, if you leave me hanging this time around, BJ, I’ll kill—”
My threat is cut off in the most delicious way. After tugging my panties to the side, Brandon spears his tongue between the folds of my pussy before he slithers it up to suckle my clit into his mouth. With months of sexual tension feeling more like foreplay, it only takes a few flicks of his tongue on my aching bud to send me free-falling into ecstasy.
As I shudder through an orgasmic wave, my thighs clamp Brandon’s head, saving his ears from being pierced with moans I’m certain were never this loud. I also don’t think I’ve ever orgasmed this hard. I’m drenched front to back, the silky wetness of my skin aiding in Brandon’s quest to slip two fingers inside of me.
Fire burns through me as a shuddering groan leaves my mouth. I’m full, aroused, and on the verge of coming again. As he pumps his thick fingers in and out of me in a slow, yet mind-hazing way, Brandon applies the perfect amount of pressure to my clit with his tongue.
“BJ…” My voice is scratchy, almost ragged. I’d cringe at how husky it is if the moan of his name didn’t have Brandon eating me more expertly. He moves faster, taking me deeper, cherishing every inch of me. “It feelssooogood. You feel so good.”
I writhe underneath him, incapable of breathing or speaking when he hums my name into my pussy. The vibration it shudders my sex with is catastrophic to my insanity. I shimmer and shake and shout his name on repeat, loving the sensation roaring through every inch of me. The rush is frantic like fireworks in the sky or slow kisses on a rainy day.
When I return from the haze back-to-back climaxes cause, I mindlessly beg him, lost to him, but forever needing more. “Please, BJ.”
He answers my plea in an instant. While crawling up my body, he licks, kisses, and sucks the skin burning with need before he stops an inch from my face. He stares straight at me, beautiful yet reserved.
“I love you,” I sign, caught up in the emotions about a time I thought would never happen again. “I love you so much.” The last of the tautness on his face disappears when I add, “But if you do not take your socks off this instant, I will finish this in the shower… alone.”
Brandon stills for the quickest second before the rumbles of his laughter almost have me falling into ecstasy for the third time. He laughs until his eyes can’t hold the wetness of his chuckles, and his cheeks are the color of beets. He laughs until he remembers the number of times we laughed when we were kids, and the happiness of those memories overtake the horrid ones he’s struggling to forget. Then he laughs until the intimate way our bodies are joined becomes too much for either of us to bear.
After gripping his sock-covered feet into the mattress and getting final permission from my eyes, he thrusts his hips forward, entering me for the first time in almost eight years with one precisely-timed lunge. The pain is intense, but it has nothing on the admiration beaming out of Brandon’s eyes. It’s even more passionate than the gleam they held when we gave each other our virginity.
As he stills, giving me time to adjust to his girth, he pushes back the strands of dirty blonde locks clinging to my sweaty temples.
Even after giving him permission to move, he keeps his hand on my face. He strokes my cheek with his thumb while occasionally dragging it over my blistered lips from the number of times I put my teeth over them as he ate me.
In no time at all, he finds a gentle yet sexual pace to rock in and out of me.
We’re not fucking.
