Brooks (Henchmen MC - Next Generation Book 11) by Jessica Gadziala

Author:Jessica Gadziala [Gadziala, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cali

I teased my lips up his neck, teeth grazing the lobe of his ear, then moving down his jaw toward his lips.

My pulse was fluttering everywhere.

My chest, my neck, my wrist, between my thighs.

Beneath me, Brooks’s breath was coming out fast and shallow as his fingers flexed on my hips, the tips dangerously close to actually grabbing my ass.

My lips teased the corners of his as I finally sank down on his lap. His cock was already straining against the fly of his jeans, and I couldn’t seem to hold myself back from writhing against him, his head rubbing deliciously against my swollen, sensitive clit.

A ragged moan escaped me and it dragged another of those rumbles that I loved so much out of Brooks as his hands finally shifted, sinking fully into my ass, and using it to grind me against him again.

My lips sealed over his then.

Hard and hungry.

Too many years of unmet need were coursing through me right then, making it impossible to take things slow, to savor the moment I’d been dreaming of for so long.

Brooks’s lips let mine lead for a moment. Until my hips ground down on him again, making that rumbling sound become more of a growl. One of his hands shot up, grabbing the back of my neck hard, holding me still as he took over, his lips crushing mine, bruising into me.

And all I wanted was more.

He was always so carefully contained, so in control of himself. I loved the idea that I was able to strip that from him, that he was losing himself in me.

Impatient for more, his teeth bit down into my lower lip, the ferocity of it dragging a moan out of me. He used the opportunity for his tongue to slip inside and find mine, teasing and taunting, and filling my mind with memories of how well he knew how to use it.

My hips were restless then, rocking against him more urgently, but not quite getting what my body so badly needed.

More.

Everything.

Him.

His lips ripped from mine, leaving them sensitive and swollen, as he targeted lower, pressing against the column of my throat, and I arched my head backward, inviting more.

His hands drifted—down from my neck, up from my hip—and met at the hem of my shirt just as his lips were prevented from drifting lower by the collar of my shirt.

He drew the material up, his heated gaze on mine, until my arms went up, allowing him to remove my tee.

Then his eyes moved down, taking in my bare chest, his hands moving up almost instantly, covering my breasts, teasing his thumbs over the pebbled points of my nipples, working them until they were hard and straining.

Then and only then did he anchor an arm around my back and lean me backward as his head dipped.

A white-hot jolt of need coursed through me as he sucked my nipple into his mouth, pulsing his lips around it as the desire pooled in my core intensified, making a shiver rack my system and a throaty, desperate moan escape me.

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