Page 119 of Cocky Brutal Sinner

“I know I haven’t warmed you up for this, but you can take it, right?”

I nod. I know it’ll be a tight fit, but I crave that full, stretched feeling.

His seeping head presses up against my wet core. He pushes inside me, and we both moan. We watch our reflections as he sinks deeper until he’s bottomed out. He moves his hand over my stomach, tracing how far inside me he is.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you now?”

I nod again, and he chuckles darkly.

“I know you’re really turned on when you lose your words.” He pulls out, then pushes sharply back inside, hitting a spot deep inside me that makes my thighs shake.

“There it is. There's that face. Look at it, baby. Look at what I do to you.” He pulls out slow this time, almost all the way, and I watch his cock emerge from me slick and obscene. “That's what you look like when I'm inside you. That's what you look like when you're mine.”

He sinks back in. My knees almost buckle.

“And every time you stand in front of this mirror after tonight, you're going to remember exactly how you looked taking my cock.”

He slowly speeds up with every thrust until he’s pounding into me, watching my tits bounce in the mirror as he bottoms out again and again and again. A thin sheen of sweat glistens on his muscles, and I’m letting out indecently loud sobs of pleasure.

“I’m getting close,” I warn him as heat spirals up inside of me.

At my announcement, he has to slow down, get control of himself so he can make good on his promise.

“No,” I groan. “More. Don’t stop.”

I don’t care if he comes with me now. I need him to move.

Beau growls, bucking into me, reaching around my hip to rub my sensitive nub, bringing me to orgasm faster.

“Fuck, Brin—” It’s the tension in his voice that undoes me, and I come again, this time on his cock, my breath fogging the mirror as I scream my release.

I’ve barely come down from it, legs shaking like a new foals as Beau pulls out just long enough to carry me to the bed. He lays me down and swiftly crawls over me. It’s only a second before he’s on top of me, thrusting inside, gazing down at my face with a combination of tender affection and bottomless lust.

He braces one forearm beside my head, his other hand snaking down between us. His hips don't break rhythm.

“One more time, Brinley, Baby,” he says through his teeth, tension across his brows. “I want you screaming my name into this fucking ceiling, so the whole goddamn building knows whose name belongs in your mouth.”

Beau’s finger moves down to my clit. He circles it mercilessly, no longer dragging it out but drawing me out toward the edge.

“I want you here every night.” He pants. “I want this all the time.”

“Yes.” I slam my lips against his in a clash of teeth and tongues. “Yes, yes, yes.”

I scream his name as my orgasm draws me tight and sends me spiraling. He fucks me through it, coming right afterward and collapsing on top of me. We lie together in a sticky, happy mess until Beau drags himself to the bathroom and returns with a wet cloth.

He cleans me with the same focus he uses when he's plating a dish—slow, deliberate, like every inch of me is something he refuses to do hastily. When he's done, he kisses the inside of my thigh, then the curve of my hip, then my temple. Three kisses, three places. I file it away in the part of me that catalogs his rituals, because someday I want to be eighty and remember exactly how he loved me.

Then he crawls back into bed with me.

Our legs twine together, my head on his chest.

“You don’t have to, you know,” he says. “Move in. At least not right away. I feel like I put you on the spot. I don’t expect you to just drop everything and⁠—”

I kiss his chest over his heart. “I wanted it before you even asked. I’ll need some time to figure out what I’m going to do about my own place—and Eden, but, I love you, Beau.”

“Fuck, I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”

“And I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say it back.”