With His Protection (For His Pleasure, Book 15) (8 page)

Bryson leaned down towards her, the sinewy muscles of his shoulders bulging as he held himself above her. “Unbuckle me,” he said, his lips hardly moving.

Scarlett reached down to his pants and fumbled for his belt, undoing it as quickly as she could. She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pulling them down past his hips, her hands straying to feel his muscular buttocks momentarily, as his boxers came off.

She could see his enormous cock as his boxers fell, and he was stiff and thick and erect, engorged with excitement. Bryson grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand down, so that she was in contact with his shaft. Immediately, she grasped it and began stroking him, her palm already slick with his excitement. She began stroking faster, watching with rapt fascination as Bryson’s eyes fluttered closed.

“I want you inside me,” she breathed. “I’m so fucking wet for you.”

“First, your mouth on me,” he commanded.

She smiled, her heart speeding. Oral sex was very intimate and enjoyable for her, in a way that was different from vaginal penetration. The thought of taking Bryson into her mouth, controlling his pleasure, his excitement, knowing that he would want to come as she did so…She relished the challenge of breaking his will.

Scarlett licked her lips, still stroking him.

Then she quickly moved to the floor, on her knees, while Bryson stood with one leg on the floor and one leg on the couch and allowed her to begin sucking him off.

She was gentle, thinking about his lips on her nipples, how it had driven her to near-madness.

The more she teased him, licking and stroking, the more she sensed him starting to come nearer to climaxing himself. His breathing was rapid and his eyes were closed.

His cock was thrusting into her mouth, trying to speed up. She held him off, not allowing him to get what he was after. When Scarlett finally began sucking him in earnest, he was almost ready to explode.

“Damn it,” he hissed. “I’m practically going to come.” He pulled away from her, his body covered in sweat.

“You can come,” she told him. “Come in my mouth. I’ll get you hard again and you can fuck me.”

“Oh, I bet you’d like that,” he said, his nostrils flaring.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“You’re trying to play games,” he said, his growl a warning.

The wind and rain kicked up outside, howling and swirling as if mimicking the energy inside the apartment.

“I’m not playing games. I just want you to come.”

Suddenly, Bryson sprang forward, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her backwards. He wasn’t hurting her, but his powerful strength was shocking.

He began kissing down her neck and then sucking her nipples again, causing her to moan and writhe. She didn’t know what had happened. One moment, she’d been starting to take control and then the next he’d seen right through her.

Bryson wasn’t about to let her dominate him. She smiled to herself, knowing that he understood her so well.

He continued kissing down her stomach, and now he was yanking her pants and panties completely off, and she was naked before him.

His body was so close to hers—his erect penis could be inside of her within mere seconds. She spread her legs wide, wanting him to see and be tempted by what was there for the taking. No more games, she thought. No more foreplay.

But Bryson had other ideas. He grabbed both her legs and threw them over his shoulders. She could feel his chest and shoulders with her thighs and calves, skin on skin. He was strong, physically stronger than perhaps any man she’d ever been with.

She could feel that strength oozing from his very pores, and it excited her.

It wasn’t just physical strength, however. Bryson’s mental strength was something that she’d sensed very early on and now she knew that Bryson was ready to be the kind of man she needed in her life.

The steadiness of his eyes, his determination, the things he’d told her about his past—to go against his entire family culture and expectations and follow his dreams—all of it made her want him more and more.

He held her thighs in his firm grip and kissed the inside of her legs, before hiking her even further up onto him as he dove down between her thighs. His mouth was hot and wet and perfect against her pussy.

The fact that he seemed to love what he was doing made it even better.

Add to that heady concoction, the fact that he was controlling her body and soul like nobody had ever done before, and Scarlett couldn’t help herself.

She rocketed towards the inevitable climax, and before she knew it—Bryson had broken her completely and utterly. She cried out, her hips arching into him, his tongue splitting her open, pressing her clitoris while she had the orgasm of a decade.

Her arms flailed, she almost started speaking gibberish. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her.

When it was done, she was out of breath and temporarily spent. Bryson looked down at her with a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded, her chest still heaving.

“I just love watching your come,” he said. “It gets me off.”

“I think you only love it because you know I didn’t want to give in first.”

“It’s not a contest.”

“Isn’t it, though?” She looked at him curiously. “I feel like everything with us is a contest.”

He shook his head. “I want more than that for us. I’m not playing games.” He climbed towards her, lowering himself on top of her once more.

Now that their bodies were slick with sweat and oiled up, it was even more erotic and sensual than before. Bryson began kissing her again, touching her everywhere. She could feel his hardness pressing between her legs, starting to open her.

She moaned as he groaned in release, the head of his cock slipping inside her pussy with one quick movement.

He slid into her tight tunnel, inch by inch, forcing his way inside, every movement a burst of ecstasy. Scarlett grit her teeth as her eyes rolled back from the sheer joy and bliss of him. His smell, his body, his touch, his love.

What more can he give me?

She didn’t know, she just knew she wanted it all.

Bryson was fully inside of her, and his belly was pressed against her stomach, and his lips were on hers, his eyes gazing into hers as he pulled his cock out and thrust it in again.

She grabbed his back, clawing. Bryson kissed her once more, rhythmically pulling out and thrusting himself into her, leaving her momentarily empty before filling her completely and totally.

It was magnificent, it was torturously pleasurable, it was exactly what she needed and wanted. She moved her hips in time with his stroke, and then he began moving faster inside her.

Their bodies combined, clawed, wrestling and holding one another until there was nothing left that separated them at all. Soon, she was coming again, and she didn’t care if his neighbors heard her scream.

Before she was finished, Bryson told her he was coming as well. “Should I pull out?” he asked.

“No, come inside me,” she told him.

Scarlett didn’t know what made her say it. Was it temporary insanity? She didn’t really know the answer. She’d simply told him and then he was thrusting again and again, and groaning loudly as he released everything inside her.

She smiled, hugging his body tightly to hers as he finished.

They lay together, their bodies still intertwined, Bryson still inside her, his hands running through her hair as he kissed her sweaty forehead.

“Was that stupid of us?” she exhaled, still shaking from it all.

“Maybe,” he replied, but he didn’t sound overly concerned.

He slid off her. There wasn’t much room on the couch for both of them to lie together, but they made the best of it. Scarlett turned and faced him, running her hands over his chest. He was still breathing quickly, but his body looked utterly languid.

Outside, the storm had begun raging again.

“This just feels right, doesn’t it?” she said.

He hugged her again, and she snuggled closer still.

“It does feel right,” he agreed. “I can’t imagine anyplace else I’d rather be than here with you.”

She looked up at him. “You mean that?”

“I swear.”

And he held her again, and they were quiet, listening to the sounds of wind and rain and Bryson’s heart was beating through his chest, and Scarlett closed her eyes, smiling.

Eventually, they went to Bryson’s room, climbing into bed together, snuggling under the covers. They didn’t bother putting clothes on. Bryson held her from behind, his hands covering her breasts, and she could feel him stiffening against her buttocks as he embraced her.

His breath on the back of her neck, Scarlett drifted a little bit.

“Do you ever think about your family?” Bryson asked, his voice loud, snapping her awake.

“My family? Why do you ask?” she said, turning her head a little.

“I don’t know. I was just thinking about my family, and everything I’ve been through with them. And then I remembered how hard things were for you growing up.

Do you ever think about your mom and dad? Your sisters?”

“Of course I think about them.”

“You miss them?”

“Sometimes. Even though they hated me, even though I was an outcast.”

Bryson kissed her shoulder. “I just don’t understand how anyone could have treated you so badly. I wish I could give them all a piece of my mind.”

Scarlett laughed, picturing what her mother would have said if he’d tried talking sense to her. “My mom wasn’t the type to take parenting advice. And my sisters…” she thought about it. “Sometimes it’s easier to fly under the radar and let the other person take the fall.”

“That’s pretty cowardly.”

“It’s called survival,” Scarlett corrected him.

“You didn’t take the easy way out when you lied and said that you started that fire.”

“But it was different for me. I was already used to being blamed, hated. I knew I could survive on my own.”

“I still don’t get it.”

She lay in Bryson’s arms, and suddenly thought of her father. “Strange you mention my family and everything. My father actually came looking for me today.”

“Your stepdad?”

“No, my biological dad. The one who left when I was just a little kid.”

Bryson rustled, sitting up in bed. “You’re kidding.”

She turned over and looked at him, but in the darkness his expression was hard to read.

“I’m not kidding,” she laughed. “He tracked me down at a bookstore this morning.”

“What did he say?”

Scarlett sighed, thinking about that moment when she’d recognized his face. She replayed the interaction in her mind. “He said he wanted to talk to me.”

“And then what did you say?”

“I told him he had nothing to tell me that I wanted to hear.”

Bryson was flabbergasted. “Your father tracked you down after more than two decades and you didn’t want to know what he had to say?”

“Not really. I can’t imagine what he could offer me after all these years. He left and abandoned me, and now he probably wants absolution—forgiveness. And I have none to give.”

Bryson sighed. “Okay.”

“I can tell you think I’m being crazy, but you don’t understand. I had to live that life, Bryson. My father left me with my mother, defenseless and alone. I had nobody and nothing, and I never got so much as a simple explanation from that man. So as far as I’m concerned, he has no right to come back now and ask me to hear what he has to say about anything.”

“That makes sense,” he said slowly. “But maybe—just maybe—your dad has something to tell you that will give you some closure.”

“I’ve got all the closure I need.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She felt anger rise in her chest, ready to come to her lips. She almost made a comment about how easy it was for a guy who was raised in a perfect family, with all the advantages and the access to the best schools—to tell her how to forgive the man that was at least partly responsible for her deprived childhood. Why was it, she wanted to ask, that rich people always thought they knew how poor people should live their lives?

Meanwhile, most of the rich people she had met would write a letter to the governor if their mocha latte wasn’t made just right.

But Scarlett didn’t say any of that. Instead, she just grunted. “Maybe.”

Bryson seemed to sense her frustration. He began rubbing her back lightly. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said softly. “I just want you to get the apology you deserve.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s ancient history.”

But now she was awake and thinking about it, thinking about her father’s face—

his haunted eyes.

Bryson laid back down and snuggled up to her, holding her tightly in his arms.

Soon, she could hear his deep breathing, regular and peaceful, and she knew he’d fallen asleep.

Meanwhile Scarlett was restless, her heart racing along with her thoughts.

Memories from the past began to flood her, colors and sounds and vivid experiences from her childhood. Maybe it wasn’t ancient history after all, she thought, as the tears rolled down her face.

***

When Scarlett woke up, Bryson wasn’t in bed with her anymore.

She blinked, looking around, trying to remember everything that had happened last night. Her stomach did a flip or two when she realized everything that had been said—and more importantly, done—by the two of them.

So now what? She wondered. Are we together? Is everything the same as it was before?

She hated not knowing. And she hated needing to know, wanting Bryson’s reassurance over and over again. At the same time, it was only reasonable to want to know where she stood with him. But she felt so guilty, so ashamed of her emotional frailty.

Everything was still relatively dark inside the apartment, and outside the rain was still pouring down.

Scarlett got out of bed, a little embarrassed at her own nudity. She needed a shower and some fresh clothes.

Just as she was about to go to the bathroom, Bryson walked into the room. He was dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie.

When he saw her, he grinned. “You look well rested.”