Page 27 of Campus Daddies
A shake of his head shows off his defeat. “She’s prepared for it all?”
“I think so. And if not, turn the comments off and call me. I’ll come over and help turn things around.” I reach out to touch his arm in reassurance.
The way he looks at me sears my insides. “You really would, wouldn’t you?”
I nod, searching for why that should surprise him.
“You know. As hard as I’ve tried, I can’t seem to fill the hole her mom left.” An immense weight seems to hunch his shoulders.
“You’re doing great with her.”
“Thanks.” He drains the last of his wine, and I sip on mine, nearly splashing it with how abruptly he sits up.
Brax takes the glass from my hand and sets it on the side table to his right before turning back to me, one big hand taking the ends of my hair between his fingers. “Am I deluding myself, or do you feel this?”
Breath freezes in my lungs. My bottom lip pinches between my teeth.
His gaze homes in on my mouth for a few long seconds before lifting to meet mine. He’s tipped forward a few inches. “This tension. Is it in my head?”
I shake my head, my near silentnoall I can manage against my better judgment.
Brax sinks a hand in my hair and drops his mouth over mine, a light press, then another, before he tilts my face for better access.
I’m lost to the sensation. The hunger. My fingers curl into the collar of his shirt and pull him closer. Need surges me forward, slipping my touch up the side of his neck.
Then, I’m drowning in heat, his mouth devouring mine with his own desire.
I haven’t been kissed like this in ages. Years.
When he presses me back in a little test, I willingly go, letting him lean me into the throw pillow behind me.
God, he’s so big that he actually makes me feel dainty.
But his kiss, the slide of tongue and teeth, makes me feel like a goddess. I draw my knee up his side, and the groan he rewards me with turns me molten.
Those big hands explore my body, cupping my ribs and waist, squeezing my hips and lifting me against his very evident and very hard length. The knowledge that I’ve done that to him makes me bold, boosts my confidence.
Sinking my fingers into his hair and tightening my grip earns me another low, grumbling noise of pleasure from the back of his throat, and his mouth drops to plant kisses, lick, and suck at my neck.
His grip shifts to envelop my breast in his palm. I have to bite back the whine it elicits.
The way he grabs at me has me burning up.
Finally, I let myself spread my palms over his shoulders and arms, exploring all of that glorious muscle and strength.
I gasp softly as his mouth travels down the skin across my chest, his hand drawing the loose hem of my plunging necklineaside and his thumb finding my hard nipple through the thin fabric of my bra.
My back arches, knees tightening around his hips.
“Fuck, Soph.” I swear he sounds half-drunk. “You’re like a fucking drug.”
And his hand is under my bra, squeezing before pinching and pulling at my nipple. My whine makes him shudder. I have to bite into the base of my palm as he slowly tortures me with a few soft plucks of that hard tip.
The other side of my shirt and bra exposes my other breast, and this time, his hot mouth surrounds my flesh, sucking hard until my panties are so drenched, there's no hiding how turned on I am. I mean, my shameless little moves have me humping his rock-hard stomach, so I’m not being subtle.
When he releases my breast and hovers over me again, I feel like prey fallen under a predator’s paw. I’m just waiting for him to pounce.
Brax kisses me again, hunger turned into a slow, all-consuming thing. A dangerous thing. There’s not a lot I would say no to right now. So when his touch travels down the center of my body and rubs over my mound, all I can do is grind into his hand.
