Brendon (11 page)

“I won’t, Bren. I like that you’re here.”

“Come here,” Brendon instructed, placing his tea glass on the floor and tugging Cheyenne’s arm.

Once her glass was on the ground beside his, Cheyenne got up from her chair. When she came over, he easily pulled her to him, forcing her to straddle his lap, facing him.

“Remember, I don’t have anything on underneath this shirt,” she said softly.

“Trust me. That’s somethin’ I’ll never forget.” And because he liked the idea that she was naked save for the oversized T-shirt, he flattened his palms against her thighs and caressed her smooth skin as he slid them toward her hips, slipping beneath the shirt.

Cheyenne sucked in a breath.

Freeing one hand, he pulled her head to his shoulder, her forehead pressing against his cheek, her breath warm on his neck. He pressed his lips to her ear. “Make sure you’re quiet. You wouldn’t want your neighbors to hear you,” he warned her before placing his hands back on her, both of them snaking higher up her thighs until he met the warmth between her legs.

“What’re you gonna do?” she questioned, her voice but a whisper.

“I’m gonna tease you like I’ve been dreamin’ of doin’ for the last hour. Hell, for the last two years.”

Sliding his finger through her slit, he lingered there, manipulating her soft, slick flesh until she was squirming. Her breath fanned his neck, his shoulder, coming more rapidly as he continued to play with her.

When he pushed one finger inside her, Cheyenne let out a delicate moan. She was apparently trying to keep quiet.

“I’ve thought about all the ways I want to make you come. Using my fingers, my tongue, my cock.”

“Oh, God,” Cheyenne said on a sigh.

“Does it feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied softly.

He continued to finger her, but not enough to send her over the edge. He wanted to make her burn for him, and when she was at that point, he fully intended to take her inside where he could make her scream his name as she came.

“Brendon, I . . . I need . . . Oh, God, yes. I need more.”

“Of course you do, baby. And I’ll give you more, I promise. Right now, I want to feel your smooth cunt grip my finger.”

His dick throbbed painfully, his jeans far too tight to be comfortable at this point, but he didn’t move. Didn’t want to break the spell. He loved teasing Cheyenne, making her moan, hearing her plead for more. Those were the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard.

Using his thumb, he rubbed circles over her clit while he twisted his finger inside, rubbing those hidden nerves that were guaranteed to make her beg for more.

“Brendon, please,” she pleaded quietly. “Take me inside. I want to touch you, too.”

His cock twitched at the thought of her taking him in her mouth. The sweet fucking heaven of her mouth.

Lord have mercy.

Groaning, he put a halt to his playing and gripped Cheyenne’s ass before pushing to his feet and carrying her inside. He waited for Scrap to join them and then closed and locked the door. Traipsing through the house with her in his arms, Brendon made his way to the couch where he sat back down.

Looking at Cheyenne, he said, “If I request you to do somethin’ you’re not comfortable with, just tell me.”

Cheyenne nodded her head.

“I’m gonna warn you up front: I’m insatiable, Chey. I want you in a million different ways and I want to try every damn one of them. But if it bothers you, let me know.”

“I will,” she assured him, her voice carrying the conviction he’d hoped to hear.

He stared back at her for a moment, making sure she recognized the intensity. He’d always been this way, it was something he couldn’t control, nor had he wanted to. It didn’t help that he’d built up his craving for her for two long years. Now that he had her in his arms, he planned to live out every fucking fantasy he’d ever harbored where she was concerned.

Starting right now.

chapter
TWELVE

I
t was as though Brendon had been reading her mind.

While he’d been teasing her outside, his thick finger penetrating her, brushing against every greedy nerve ending inside her, Cheyenne had hoped he’d take her inside and show her all the things he said he wanted to do to her. But, she hadn’t been lying when she told him that she wanted to touch him, too. She hadn’t had a chance to do much more than stroke him, and now . . . she wanted to taste him.

The fact that he’d warned her about his insatiable needs only intensified her desire for him. She liked that about Brendon. He was straightforward with what he wanted. At least when it came to sex.

“On your knees.”

Brendon’s gruff instruction had her pussy throbbing, but Cheyenne didn’t hesitate to crawl off his lap and onto the floor. He stood directly in front of her, quickly ridding himself of his jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Considering that was the only thing he was wearing, it didn’t take him long. Once he was sitting, he spread his legs and she was entranced by the thick, dark length of his erection standing proud and tall, his heavy sac beneath. He gripped the shaft, stroking lightly as he watched her kneeling on the floor in front of him.

She fought the urge to squirm, desperate to get her hands on him. He was right, it was almost as though the last two years had been foreplay. Despite their constant arguing, there had never been a doubt in Cheyenne’s mind that she would give in to Brendon if he ever got his head on straight. She’d been adamant about not being shared, and honestly, that was her only condition. She was game for anything else he wanted to try. She knew, without a doubt, that Brendon would be gentle with her. He might test her boundaries, but he wouldn’t push her where she didn’t want to go.

Ultimately, Cheyenne wanted to experience the bad boy underneath it all. Brendon was an extraordinary man with extraordinary needs, and those needs were what dictated that he be dominant, and Cheyenne craved that. She’d never thought of herself as submissive, and she certainly wasn’t into the formal practices of that lifestyle, but this, the commanding tone, the insistent gaze, giving herself over to him completely . . . That’s what she wanted.

“Come closer,” he instructed, and Cheyenne inched forward until her thighs were flush with the base of the sofa, Brendon’s knees bracketing her sides. The hardwood bit into her knees and she must’ve winced because the next thing she knew, Brendon was handing her a pillow and telling her to put it under her. She did so gladly, reclaiming her position with the pillow beneath her.

“Open your mouth for me, Chey.”

A chill raced down her spine at his command. She had picked up on the fact that Brendon was demanding and downright vocal during sex, but from all that she knew about him, truth was, she hadn’t expected this. She wasn’t at all bothered by it though. Quite the opposite. She found that his verbal commands did strange things to her insides, making her pussy clench with need.

Cheyenne opened her mouth and Brendon slid his hand behind her head, pulling her forward. He brushed her lips with the smooth head of his cock. Using her tongue, she licked him, eliciting a soft groan from him.

“Lick your lips,” he instructed.

Cheyenne moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, her eyes meeting his as she did. There was something dark and lascivious in his blue-gray gaze, something that spoke of erotic promises and earth-shattering orgasms.

“Keep your mouth open,” he told her and Cheyenne did, but it wasn’t easy. She wanted to take him into her mouth, to lick him, taste him, feel the smoothness of him against her tongue.

But she did none of that because he apparently had other ideas. She liked that he was using her mouth the way he wanted, in a way that would bring him the utmost pleasure.

Brendon controlled the moment easily, sliding the swollen head of his cock over her lips, back and forth, but never pushing inside. He continued, his eyes glued to the end of his dick where it made contact with her mouth. Cheyenne had no choice but to watch his face, to admire the sexy way his eyes flared. A minute passed, but then he was slipping the head into her mouth, brushing it over her tongue, her teeth, her lips. Only when he commanded her to close her mouth around him did she.

“Oh, yeah,” he said softly. “Keep your lips closed and lick me, Chey.”

Again, she did as he requested, licking him like a lollipop, relishing the salty taste of him, the silky-smooth hardness of his cock in her mouth.

He pulled her head forward, firm but not rough, forcing her to take more of him in her mouth. Brendon was huge, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. He was by far bigger than what she’d seen in the limited experience she’d had, but she did her best to please him, trying to take him as far as she could before her eyes watered and her gag reflex kicked in. Before that happened though, he pulled back, still controlling the movement with his one hand gripping his dick, the other on the back of her head.

It was wickedly hot.

“Suck the head.”

Cheyenne hollowed her cheeks, sucking the head of his cock while laving him with her tongue, enjoying the way he groaned his pleasure.

“Damn, that’s good. Better than I imagined. I love seeing your lips wrapped around my dick, baby. Love watching my cock disappear inside your hot little mouth.”

Cheyenne was tempted to slip her hand between her legs and touch herself, anything to relieve the ache that had taken up residence inside her. The reaction wasn’t all that surprising; after all, she’d known all along what Brendon was capable of doing to her. She just hadn’t experienced it firsthand until recently, and now that she’d had a taste of what it was like, she wanted more. So much more.

Brendon’s hand tightened on the back of her head as he began fucking her mouth, tunneling in and out slowly, steadily. Cheyenne focused on him, loving the way he tasted, the way he felt against her tongue, smooth, yet hard, firm, yet gentle. Oral sex hadn’t been something her past lovers had ever focused on, strangely enough, but this . . . Cheyenne was pretty sure she’d found a new fascination with Brendon. She loved sucking him, bringing him so much pleasure.

“Fuck, Chey. I don’t wanna come, but damn, it’s so fucking good. I don’t want you to stop.” More grunts and groans followed his admission and Cheyenne dug her fingernails into his thighs, letting him know that she wanted this.

Doubling her efforts, Cheyenne sucked harder and then slipped her hand between his legs, cupping his heavy balls with one hand, kneading them, testing what would send Brendon closer to the edge.

“Oh, yeah. Fuck. Your hand’s so damn soft.”

Cheyenne knew he was close based on the way his body tightened, his abs contracting, his chest heaving as he continued to fuck her mouth. And when he held her head still, his cock pulsing against her tongue, she swallowed every bit as he came.

THE FACT THAT
Cheyenne stripped him of his control only bothered Brendon a little. Quite possibly, that had been his issue for some time now. Regardless of his intentions, it always seemed that when it came to her, he lost his ability to function as he normally would.

Now was not an exception.

Pulling Cheyenne into his lap, Brendon crushed his mouth to hers while he slid his hand beneath the T-shirt she still wore. Finding her wet and ready for him mollified him somewhat.

Pushing one finger into her, he fucked her steadily. When her body loosened, he thrust two fingers inside her, capturing her cry of ecstasy in his mouth. Laying her back, he leaned over sideways, shifting onto his hip, Cheyenne’s calves resting over his stacked thighs while he lay on his side, his back against the cushions, keeping her close while he continued to finger-fuck her.

Her nails dug into his skin where she gripped his arm as she began to writhe against his hand.

“You wanna come on my fingers, Chey? Do you, baby?” he asked when he lifted his mouth from hers.

She didn’t respond with words, but her body told him everything he needed to know. God damn, she was beautiful.

“Lift the shirt up. I want to see your tits,” he instructed. Due to the way he was lying, one of his hands immobile and the other preoccupied, he had to enlist her help. He loved the way she responded so eagerly, twisting and resituating so that she could raise the shirt, revealing her delicate body, her sweet pussy being fucked by his fingers, her sinful tits bouncing as she tried to impale herself on his hand.

Leaning down, he took one nipple between his teeth, still watching her as he gently bit down.

“Oh, God! Brendon . . . Oh, shit.”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, guessing that it didn’t based on the way her cunt clasped his fingers tightly and she moaned her pleasure, but he wanted to hear her response.

“No. More. Please.”

Brendon gave her more, adding a third finger and resuming his sensual torment of her nipple. The fact that he was out of condoms left him with very few options, which meant they were either going bare—something he’d never done in his entire fucking life—or this was going to have to suffice. Considering he’d just erupted in her sweet mouth, he could live with this if she could. For now. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be ready in the very near future. As he’d told her before, he was insatiable. It’d always been an issue for him. He could easily go three, sometimes four times in a night.

But right now, his only intention was to make her come.

And she was damn close, he could tell by the way her pussy gripped his fingers.

“Come on my hand, Cheyenne.”

He began to brutally thrust into her, fucking her hard, watching her as she took it without complaint, begging for more. There was no doubt about it, he’d met his match in Cheyenne. She brought out the darker side of him, the dominant side. He wanted to pleasure her in ways he’d only dreamed about.

One of the main reasons he’d always had Braydon around was to soften his hard edge. His twin was gentle with women, almost reverent. Brendon could be when the situation dictated, but for the most part, he was hard-core, ready to drill a woman into a wall or the floor. Wherever they ended up.

However, with Cheyenne, that need was more intense, more potent.

Oddly enough, with Cheyenne, he found himself battling between good and evil. With her, things were slightly different. At times, he found he wanted to cherish her, but then there were moments like this, right here, right now, when he wanted to fuck her hard, make her scream his name.

“Brendon!”

Just fucking like that.

“Tell me, Chey. Tell me when you come.” Returning his attention to her nipple, he sucked hard, pulling her into his mouth, lashing the pebbled tip with his tongue while his fingers ruthlessly impaled her over and over, harder, faster.

“Oh . . .” Cheyenne’s back bowed, her stomach muscles tightening, her legs pushing against his. And then . . . “Brendon! I’m . . . Oh, God, yes! I’m coming!”

Hell yeah. That’s exactly what he wanted and he loved how willingly she gave it to him.

When her body relaxed, Brendon pulled her to him, lifting and carrying her easily as he padded up the stairs naked. Depositing her on her bed, he detoured to the bathroom and returned with a warm cloth. After cleaning her gently, he disposed of the cloth and came back to the bed to join her.

When he got situated, Cheyenne eased up against him, her body warm and soft, her hands delicate as they rubbed lightly over his chest. Kissing her forehead, he took a deep breath.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, praying that she didn’t say yes. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he did cause her pain.

“No,” she said softly, sleepily. “Not at all.”

Wrapping his arm around her, he tilted her chin up and met her lips with his briefly. “Good,” he told her softly. “Because that’s the last damn thing I wanna do.”

And with that, Brendon gave in to sleep. For the first time in forever, he managed to drift off without a million thoughts pounding through his brain. It seemed that Cheyenne
was
his comfort zone, the only place he seemed to be able to relax.

There was only one problem with that . . . He wasn’t sure he would ever be the same without her again.