Page 63 of Claimed By The Other Brother

The bathroom is upscale—marble counters, a large mirror, soft lighting. Spacious enough that we're not cramped, private enough that no one can see us.

The moment the lock clicks, Dax is on me. He steps forward, his large hands gripping my waist and sliding over my body with an urgency that leaves me breathless. His touch is firm, almost rough, as his fingers press into the seams of my dress, squeezing my hips, my ass, like he's desperate to claim every inch of me.

I gasp as his mouth crashes into mine, the kiss searing and ravenous. My hands fly to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging as our lips move in frantic unison, the taste of him intoxicating and overwhelming.

Without breaking the kiss, Dax lifts me like I weighnothing, placing me on the cool surface of the expansive sink counter. My legs part instinctively as he steps between them, his body pressing into mine, solid and unyielding.

His mouth leaves mine, trailing heat along my jaw, down my neck. I tilt my head back, giving him access, and my hands reach for his suit jacket, fumbling to slide it off his shoulders.

He shrugs it off with a sharp movement, tossing it carelessly onto the chair beside us. His hands roam down my thighs, the rough pads of his fingers sliding under the slit of my dress, caressing the sensitive skin. My breath hitches as his touch grows bolder, his hands kneading my flesh, trailing higher until they brush against the damp silk of my panties.

"You're so wet,” he growls, his voice thick and primal, and a shiver courses through me.

His fingers hook the edge of my panties, sliding them to the side, and then he's inside me, two fingers plunging deep with a confidence that steals the air from my lungs.

A sharp moan escapes my lips, and my legs fall wider as his fingers pump into me with relentless precision. He spreads me open, his movements skilled and unrelenting, and my head falls back against the mirror as I feel the pressure build.

Then, suddenly, he lowers himself, his mouth replacing his fingers as he buries his face into my core.

I cry out, my hands flying to his hair, gripping tight as his tongue finds my clit, flicking and swirling with devastating expertise. His fingers are still inside me, curling tohit that perfect spot with every thrust, and I'm unraveling.

My thighs tremble around his head as his tongue dips lower, teasing my entrance before plunging into me, the sensation blinding.

My breath comes in gasps as the pressure coils tighter and tighter. His thumb rubs deliberate circles over my clit while his tongue and fingers work in tandem, pushing me closer to the edge.

"Dax," I gasp, unable to hold back the tidal wave of sensation crashing over me.

My orgasm hits hard, my body convulsing as I release, my juices spilling onto his chin. He groans in satisfaction, licking me clean as I shudder in the aftermath.

Before I can catch my breath, he stands, his fingers still slick with me as he unzips his pants. My gaze drops to the thick length that springs free, and I can't help but reach for it, wrapping my hand around him and stroking slowly. He's rock hard, pulsing in my palm. I feel powerful holding him like this, watching his jaw clench with restraint.

But Dax doesn't waste time. He pulls me off the counter and spins me around, pressing my front against the wide mirror. The glass is cool against my heated skin. I brace myself as he lifts the back of my dress, exposing me to him entirely.

He fists his cock, the head brushing against my slick folds before he smacks it against my ass, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room. I gasp at the contact, and thenhe's sliding inside me, stretching me so completely that I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming.

His hand tangles in my hair, tugging my head back so our eyes meet in the mirror.

"Look at me fucking you," he commands, his voice a growl, and the feral dominance in his tone sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through me.

I do as he says, watching his face as he begins to thrust, hard and deep, the reflection capturing the raw intensity of his movements. My body rocks against the mirror with each powerful stroke, and my moans fill the room, unrestrained and desperate.

"Quiet," he hisses, his hand moving to cover my mouth.

"People can hear."

The reminder that we're in a public bathroom, that anyone could be outside, that we could be caught—it makes everything more intense. More dangerous.

I bite down on his palm to muffle my cries as he pounds into me.

He tightens his grip on my hair, pulling harder, and I cry out against his hand, the mix of pleasure and pain pushing me higher. His eyes are locked on mine in the mirror, a storm of lust and something darker swirling in their depths.

"Say my name," he demands, moving his hand slightly so I can speak, his hips slamming into me with a force that leaves me breathless.

"Dax," I moan, the word breaking on a gasp as he drives into me harder, faster.

His pace is relentless, his cock hitting every nerve, every sensitive spot, and I can feel the tension building again, coiling tighter and tighter in my core.

"That's it," he growls, his voice rough and guttural.