Four Letter Word

I dug my fingernails into his back and shuddered with need.

Oh, God, yes.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. YES.

“Trouble,” I panted.

He growled, twisted my nipple, and hit that spot inside that made my body tremble and tighten.

“Wait,” he grunted, thrusting harder. Deeper.

I shook my head, warning, “I can’t.”

“Wait, Syd.”

“Oh, God,” I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut and taking my hand out from between us, putting it on his hip and holding on.

Brian dipped his head and sucked on the skin of my neck, murmuring so good and so fucking good and fuck, Wild, FUCK. He kept thrusting and working my nipple, and I felt his breath catch just below my ear before his lips touched my cheek and he groaned, “Now, baby.”

Baby.

Oh, I liked that. I liked that a lot.

I liked it so much, I came harder than the first time, my head slamming back, hitting half pillow/half mattress, my nails cutting and dragging across skin and my hips pressing down, forcing Brian deeper.

He leaned back to look at me, meeting my eyes, and I saw his were nearly black and mad with want. He looked possessed. He looked beautiful.

Always. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, inside and out.

Then on a moan, he buried deep, cursed, and gave it to me, spilling his pleasure inside and sliding out at the last second to watch the last shot bathe my pussy.

“Shit, Wild,” he panted, then took his thumb and smeared it over my clit.

I gasped, reached down, and caught his wrist.

“Sensitive,” I breathed, still working for air. “It aches a little.”

He bent and kissed the top of my hand before I released him, then eased his thumb away, sat back on his heels, and continued staring between my legs while he rubbed my thighs restlessly.

His chest heaved. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive.

“Know I usually clean you up, but gotta say, babe, I like seeing you like this. I like it a lot,” he admitted, lifting his eyes. “You want a towel or are you good?”

The way Brian was looking at me right now, I’d be good for a while.

I hooked my feet behind his waist, bent my knees to draw him in, and reached for him.

“I’m good. Come here.”

He crawled over me, covering my body with his, and gave me a slow, wet kiss I felt all the way in my toes, then he rolled onto his back and took me with him, tucking me against his side so I was lying partially on his chest and partially on the mattress, my arm slung over his waist and my knee bent, resting across his hip. He slid his hand down my spine and cupped my ass, giving it a squeeze, then bent his other arm and tucked it behind his head.

I pressed a kiss to his chest and felt his fingers tense on my rear.

“That was amazing,” I told him.

“Always is,” he admitted.

“I know. I’m so good at it.”

He tickled my side until I squirmed and cried out.

“I’m agreeing!”

“You’re being cute,” he argued, keeping me in his hold when my body bucked uncontrollably. “What’d I say about that?”

“You’re not fucking me! And I told you, I can’t help it!”

I wiggled and tried moving away, but Brian held on tighter and kept pressing his fingers into the skin above my hip.

My eyes watered. Laughter caught in my throat and tangled with my breath.

I could’ve fought harder but I didn’t. I hated being tickled, but if he was doing it, I loved it.

I adored playful Brian.

I imagined a younger version of him in moments like this, youthful and spirited, a beautiful boy who didn’t have worries or regrets or burdens, who always smelled like salt water and sunscreen and the hot July sun.

“Brian!” I giggled louder when he went for the sensitive spot above my collarbone.

Sir barked at the door. His nails scratched the wood.

Brian stopped tickling me but kept his hold just as firm.

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

I twisted, pushed hard against his chest, and forced a stern look, hiding my happiness.

“You roused the boy. Now we can’t have alone cuddles,” I hissed, shook off his arms, and slid out of bed.

Brian fell back onto his pillow.

“Alone cuddles?” he repeated, fighting a smile while tucking his hands underneath his head and stretching his body out.

His cock was still half hard and lay heavy on his thigh.

I really wanted alone cuddles with that.

I snatched my panties off the floor, explaining, “Yes. I wanted time with you before Sir got done licking the peanut butter out of his Kong toy and came looking for us. Now because of your antics, we won’t have that. I can’t just ignore him.”

“Sure you’re heartbroken over it,” Brian joked. “Think you like time with Sir over time with me.”

I stopped halfway to the bathroom, panties in hand, shot him a look over my shoulder with eyes hard and narrowing, and firmly disagreed.

“That’s absurd.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“See you’re not arguing it, though.”

“It’s absurd and doesn’t even warrant the time to argue.”

“Using time to tell me it’s absurd, Wild. Could be using that time to tell me I’m wrong, but you’re not.”

My eyes narrowed farther.

“Now you’re the one being cute,” I told him because he was.