Holy Mother of Tats and Muscles

Delaney

 

 

 

BROOKLYN WAS CONCERNED ABOUT me, but to be honest? I could not wait to get my hands all over him. The moment he’d stepped into the living room and I saw his reflection in the windows, I knew I had to have him.

The unbuttoned shirt showed off his supercharged body—the well-sculpted broad torso—and those jeans. Those jeans plastered to the hard edge of his thighs, his ass, his . . . oh my God . . . the Girth Brooks cock made every single part of me swell with need.

In his bedroom he stood in front of me, not touching. His shirt hung open, his eyes hooded low, and his breath struck in and out of his chest.

“You’re in charge. Whatever you want.” His words came out thick and hoarse.

I drew my finger from his stomach and slipped it between my pursed lips. “Oh, I already know I’m in charge.”

I thought Brooklyn’s eyes were going to fall out of his head. His hips surged, bringing my attention to the long hard formation at his groin. Nnnnh, that belt buckle just set everything off perfectly. I figured I owed him a little payback since he’d gone down on me so completely I’d nearly lost my voice—coming so hard from the hot strikes of his tongue on my pussy.

My breasts brushed against the hair on his chest, and I reveled in the feel. I skimmed my fingers over his huge shoulders, behind his neck, into his thick, wavy hair.

Drawing him to my lips, I cried out when he cupped my backside, tugging me up and into him.

Our kiss long and hot and wet, I pulled away, panting.

“I want you.” His pelvis kicked again.

“I know.”

He palmed my breasts, thumbing across my nipples. I almost lost my concentration, but I stepped behind him. Dragging the shirt from his thickly muscled arms, I kissed down the center of his back.

“Oh, wow.” My fingertips skipped up the center of his laddered sinews fanning out. My breath held as I took in the total artistry and sheer fuckhotness of his ink-covered back.

“You’ve seen my tats before,” Brooks spoke in a ragged voice, and chills rose on his skin beneath my fingers. 

“Not close up.” The tat was a landscape of horses . . . steeds, a whole herd of them in black and shades of gray with majestic manes. Dust flying beneath their soaring hooves. Red eyes glowing.

The magnificent tattoo was made even more so by the muscular canvas of his entire back.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Placing my hands on his lean hips, I followed one curving line with my tongue, licking.

“Fuck.” Immense muscles flexed as his head craned back.

I bit then sucked along his lats.

“Jesus.” His shoulders knotted.

I kissed at his tats, sucking and swirling my tongue.

“Delaney . . .”

“Are you going to beg me now?”

When I rounded to face him, he curled an arm around my waist.

I stopped him before his mouth crashed to mine. “I thought you said I was in charge.”

Rushed ragged breaths chugged in and out of his chest. He looked at me as every sinew in his body—his highly trained form—tightened.

“Fuuuck. You’re the boss.”

I smiled, tossing his shirt onto a chair. “That’s right.”

“But no fuckin’ shit? I’m so close to blowing my load just looking at you.”

Walking toward his bed, I swished my ass. “I know.”

“I’d rather come in your cunt.”

A hot swirl of need simmered between my legs at his rough raw language. “Not my mouth?”

“Fuck, Delaney. Yeah, I want your mouth. Want your pussy. Want you wrapped around me.”

Spinning, I pointed to the bed. “Then why don’t you sit here?”

He jerked into action, long strides delivering him to the huge bed. He eased down, thighs spread. His stomach visibly flexed, muscles dancing beneath sun-bronzed flesh and the treasure trail of dark brown hair.

Leaning back on his elbows, he spread his legs, booted feet on the floor.

I positioned myself between his thighs. The length of his cock beat against the jeans. I touched the head then glided my fingertips to the crux, to the center seam where his balls bulged.

Brooklyn curled up, grunting.

I hastily unbuckled his belt. Thwacked it from the loops. Tackled the buttons on his jeans. I opened the triangle of soft, damp, faded denim, whimpering at the size of the root of his cock and the nest of curls.

“Babe.” His fingers danced along my jaw. “You gotta take my boots off first.”

“What?” I lifted dazed eyes to his, my hand burrowing into his pants.

He bucked up and grabbed my wrist. “If you wanna get at me, take the boots off.”

Those damn boots. I kissed his hip, following the deep rugged groove of muscle leading to his cock.

My hands skated up and down his thighs. My breath came in short fast pants.

I rose up, my breasts at Brooks’s face.

He immediately latched on, and I cupped him to me. Rough wet denim met my smooth legs as I tucked my hand low, finding his balls.

He broke his lip-lock. “Christ. Get me naked.”

“How am I supposed to take these off?” I kneeled at his feet, eyeing the boots.

The smirk curling one side of his beard warned me.

Brooks widened his legs and tapped a boot sole on my thigh. “Bootjack. Or the bare-ass method.”

Wetness spilled from my pussy at his hungry look at my body.

“You’re lying,” I said, raining my hair all over his abdomen like the lashes of a whip.

“Wanna find out?” He gripped the nape of my neck in a loose hold.

“Are you challenging me?”

He smirked, and every single hard muscle on his torso chiseled into high relief. “Wouldn’t dare.”

Standing . . . slowly . . . I turned my back. My hands caressed my body from thighs to shoulders to my neck, and I listened to Brooks grunt.

Biting my lip, I bent low over his left leg.

Naked, I knew he had the perfect view of my engorged need, the wetness spilling down my thighs, my ass on view.

“Delaney.” He groaned.

“Give me your foot.”

The boot rose, and I rocked forward when he planted his other sole on my butt. He pushed me forward, the cowboy boot coming with me. I quickly got back in place, my entire body fired up from the view I was giving Brooks.

The second one came off fast, and I imagined Brooks wasn’t far behind. I spun around, hands at his jeans. I dragged them down and off and . . . holy mother of thick cock.

He was long and thick and hefty when I weighed him in my palm. “Commando again? You really are a free-baller.”

His head knocked back. His hands danced on my shoulders. His cock kicked in my hand.

“Suck me.”

“I don’t usually take orders anymore.” I lapped at his full balls.

“I know. Just—”

“This time I don’t mind.” I admired his cock for a few more seconds because I loved the feel of his iron hard rod leaping in my hand.

Then I wet my lips and kissed the hot glossy dome. Precome dazzled my tongue, and I sucked it down my throat.

His hips jutted.

I bet his brain melted too.

I loved his cock. I could probably get off just by giving him head alone.

My stomach trembled when I slavered over him. On my knees because I wanted it, I licked up and down and rolled his balls into my mouth. Every time Brooks grunted, I moved to his cockhead and sucked at the ridge. I lipped his frenulum, lightly bathed his thick dick, wetting the shaft all over.

“Beer-can-cock much?” I bit my bottom lip, stroking him in my fist.

“Oh Jesus. Swallow it.” His toes curled, and he gripped his cock, rubbing it over my cheeks.

He slapped the shaft against my lips, and I more than welcomed him.

I loved it.

I wanted it.

Opening up to him, I slid my lips around the fat tip of his cock. I eased more and more of him into my mouth, listening to him swear as he stroked my shoulders and my cheeks.

Rising to his feet, he fucked my face with slow steady strokes, reaching the back of my mouth and pulling all the way out. Every time my lips rolled over the big cockhead, he groaned. The muscles on his thighs stood out harder.

His thumb moved to the corner of my lips, and he dipped my neck back until he was practically straddling my face.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you look so goddamn hot with my dick in your mouth.” He pulled the wet length back, ran his fist over the bulging veins then pumped me full again.

I spread my knees, the insides of my thighs damp, my pussy aching to be filled and fucked. I cupped his balls in one hand, my breast in the other, strumming my nipple.

“Yeah. That’s it.” Harsh deep breaths rolled in and out of his chest. “Play with those tits.”

His pace quickened. His dick got even harder. I pinched my nipple, moaning around the mouthful of incredible cock.

“I’m gonna come.” His thighs spread. His pelvis jerked. “Are you gonna swallow?”

I slid my lips free, tasting him with just my tongue. “Yes. Come in my mouth. I want you.”

“Put it back in.”

Reaching around to his ass, I grabbed his hard glutes and forced his ever-thickening cock into my mouth.

His dick kicked between my lips, and I focused on the head, tasting his male musk.

“Look at me when you—” The sudden swelling of his cock seemed to shock him. “Oh, Delaney. Fuck, fu—”

I glanced up at his face—his expression raw, his eyes half-mast. Then long hot streams of ejaculate exploded into my mouth. Spatter after spatter while he flexed and groaned and shook.

I loved his flavor. The warm wet flow. The sound of his rough voice. Swallow after swallow, I sucked on him.

“Taste good? Fuck, Delaney.” He pumped in and out a few more times, probably loving the sight of my come-coated lips stretching around the lethally thick pole of flesh.

“So good,” I whispered, licking my lips. “I want more.”

His entire body shuddered. “Goddamn.”

To prove my point, I sexily lapped at him. My tongue searching for every last drop of come. Brooks grunted and groaned, twisting his hips against my face.

“Jesus girl, I’ve got so much more for you.”

His cock stayed hard. It slapped upright against his belly when I let the rigid rod go. His balls still looked incredibly full.

I leaned back, my fingers sliding down my torso and into my pussy. “I need you inside me, Brooks.”

My hips danced and shivered, and with a sudden loud curse, he reached down. Brooks had me in his arms then on his bed. I stared as he loomed over me, my body a wet trembling mess of need. I lay panting, waiting for him to press his body onto me, for him to rub that massive cock against me, but he stayed just above me, looking but not touching.

“I need a condom?”

“I’m on the pill. I’m clean. I want to feel you inside me.”

He sucked in a huge breath and let it out with a harsh groan. “You sure?”

I nodded, rolling my hand low to feel the weight of his wet cock in my palm again.

“I’m cleared too.” His gritty voice shivered over me.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me then?” I drew my hands up the sturdy muscles of his arms and shoulders to his neck, tangling my fingers in the hair there.

His neck arched sharply, and the heat in his eyes when his gaze locked on mine made my body sing.

Then he grinned suddenly and boosted onto his back. “You’re in charge, Delaney.”

As soon as I straddled him, his grin slipped away. I grasped the base of his shaft and rose to my knees. Slipping the hot tip around my lips, I rubbed it against my clit, arching and rolling my body as the feeling of wetness spread, my moisture leaking onto his cock.

With a hand braced on Brooklyn’s wide chest, the hairs tingling my palm, I undulated into the zinging feeling of hot male cock against my sopping swollen pussy.

I loved the pelt on his chest. The brawn of his body. The pubes at his groin and his thunderous groan that told me he ached as much as me.

I knew I was teasing him. His features twisted. His lips parted. His heated eyes roved between my dangling breasts and the way I pleasured myself with his cock.

“You still want me in charge?” I asked coyly, rolling my hips so the slick wet noise between us grew.

He nodded, swallowing.

I dipped just slightly down, and his fat head split me. My pussy lips opened slowly, kissing, sucking then closing around the ridge of the huge tip.

I watched his abs tighten. “You wanna thrust all the way inside, don’t you?”

“Fuck yes.”

“But you won’t?” Achingly slow, torrid heat burning all along my body, I lifted up.

His cockhead slurped out.

A ragged rush of air streamed from his mouth.

Lowering again, I swallowed the tip inside. I held him there, just the fattest part inside me, and ran my fingertips up and down the amazing length of him.

“Fuck.” His hips shifted, slightly, just once after I’d repeated the same sexually agonizing move several more times.

Unable to do anything else, Brooks brought his hands to my breasts. He fondled and plucked my nipples, and I howled at the body-screaming pleasure.

I withdrew him from my slit again, and his head beat back against the pillows.

A slow smile curved my lips. Draping myself on top of him, I slid my hot cunt over the hard roll of his cock. I bit his earlobe then licked it, my breath trembling.

“Want to know what I want?”

“Yeah.” His big palms slipped to my waist, and he moved with me, rocking his cock along my simmering pussy.

“I want you to flip me over. Mount me. And fuck me full of your cock.”

His jaw clenching, he stared at me with flashing eyes. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Sitting up, I slapped his cock against my bright pink pussy. “Yes, I do.”

All his restraint tore away. Within seconds, he had me on my back, my thighs spread, my hips kicked up.

“You want my cock? You’re gonna get it.” With a roar, Brooks thrust that epic length all the way inside.

I screamed as he plunged into me, absolutely stretching me. His balls slapped against me, and he rested for a moment, grinding. An instant blinding orgasm ripped right through me—wild intense heat radiating from deep where his stiffness penetrated me.

“Yeah.” He sneered down at me. “That’s it. Come on my cock.”

Ramming, rough and raw, Brooklyn took me. I fucked right back, exquisitely full. So aroused even after the first orgasm. Clutching at him with every hard, long stroke, I wrapped my legs around him. I felt him pumping. The hairs on his chest teased my nipples for just a moment before he reared up on his massive arms, swinging that heavy cock in and out of me until the swirling heat gathered again.

My entire body quaking, I heard him shout. He unloaded inside me as my body sealed tight around him. My insides clasping him, pulsating, eating up every hot spurt exploding from the cock he continued to fuck in and out of me. Milky come covered the root he kept driving into me, and I came again, my stomach full of butterflies.

His hips stilled. I clinched him deep inside me. He dropped over me, warm wet mouth slipping from my lips to my cheek to my temple.

“So good,” I groaned out, releasing my weak legs from around his hips.

“You, Delaney Jones, are one hell of a wild fuck.”

A triumphant laugh bubbled out of me.

He rose up to peer at me with an eyebrow cocked. “You think that’s funny?”

“No. It’s just . . . Guess I don’t need to be worried I’m frigid anymore.”

“Frigid? Where the fuck did that come from?”

I ducked my head.

He tipped my chin back up. “Are you serious? That fucking asshole?”

Flipping us over so I lay halfway across his chest, he smoothed a comforting palm along my hair and down my back. “Hell no. You’re not frigid. That was . . . yeah. Beyond the hottest experience of my life.”

I smiled, idly playing with one of his nipples and tugging my fingers through the pattern of hair on his chest. “Mine too.”

“You tired?” I loved the way his voice rumbled against my ear.

“No.” But I yawned just after that.

Brooks pulled a blanket around us, and I fell asleep within his arms, warm, satisfied, protected.

****

I woke up sometime later, completely cuddled against Brooklyn. I had to admit, he was a better sleeping partner than snoring Raquel or groping Sammy. And he felt so strong, smelled so good—still with a hint of salty fresh air.

Careful not to wake him, I leaned over. My hair brushed against his nose, and he smiled in his sleep, mumbling my name. I gently touched the perfectly sculpted beard and the slight parting of his lips. He was simply mouthwatering.

I disentangled from him and rose from the bed. Pulling on his shirt, I tiptoed from the room. Downstairs I found the kitchen, more well stocked than mine in my little apartment. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sipped at it as I walked through the house. There didn’t seem to be any signs of his ex anywhere, not even in the bedroom. The place was thoroughly masculine, just like him. And inviting, just like him.

I finished the water, returning to his room. I cleaned up a little in the adjoining bathroom, noting his aftershave, his razor, the massive shower with multiple heads. A frisson of arousal tingled through me at the idea of soaping and washing him from head to toe to . . . good Lord, his cock.

In the bedroom, I walked to his dresser. A brush. A watch. A photo of what had to be the ranch in Texas and a weathered-looking man with his same smile—it had to be his granddad.

Big, gruff . . . soft-hearted Brooklyn Holt. My heart gave a little jump in my chest. Then I noticed myself in the mirror. I definitely wore the look of a well-fucked woman. And my chin, cheeks, breasts, and belly were a little red.

“Who said you could leave my bed?” Brooklyn’s low teasing voice rumbled behind me.

“I was just casing the joint while you were asleep,” I joked back.

“Uh huh.” He padded up behind me, naked, sleep-rumpled, even more mouthwatering.

“I have a beard rash.” I pointed at my chin.

He took my earlobe between his lips and cupped my breasts. “Here too.”

“Probably between my legs as well.”

“I hope so.” He crowded closer behind me, his fully hard cock dragging across the small of my spine. “You’ll get used to the beard.”

Slanting my neck, I pushed back against him. “I like it.”

“I know. Now come back to bed. Not done with you yet.”

He towed me with him then placed me gently on the bed before following after me. His eyes shined, skimming over my breasts.

I turned onto my side and traced the hilled muscle of his bicep. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Well”—I stumbled a little—“you said you wanted kids.”

He leaned up on an elbow. “So did you.”

“But I don’t know if everything works after . . .” My hand fell to my tummy.

“I didn’t ask you to marry me or anything.” He looked at me, completely deadpan.

“Brooks!” I slugged him on the shoulder.

His face sobering completely, he cuddled me closer. “Sshhh. I’m not taking this lightly. I’m not taking you lightly.”

“You’re not?” I asked as a tiny flare of hope bloomed inside me.

“Fuck no. Do you know how much I’ve thought about you? I would’ve asked you out a hundred more times if I hadn’t been so shit-scared of you blowing me off.”

“I was kind of hard on you, wasn’t I?”

“Understatement. But so worth the wait.” His nose nuzzled against my hair. “I’m not that kind of man. Not like—”

I pressed a finger against his mouth. “I don’t want his name said in this bed.”

Brooks nodded, kissing the tip of my finger. He nudged me over then spooned back against me where he felt so right.

“Anyway, the kids thing isn’t important. Not right now. You are,” he said quietly.

Again, that glimmer of hope surfaced.

I snuggled into him. “Okay. But I don’t want there to be expectations if I don’t know if I can—”

“The only thing I expect is for you to be exactly who you are.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you something?” His placed his palm on my belly. “Did you name her? Your daughter?”

My hand covered his, holding his warmth against me as I whispered, “Katelynne. Little Katie.”

Softer tears fell that time, a sort of ending, because sharing the pain of the past with Brooklyn finally healed the last wound inside me.