On Dublin Street

“Fuck,” Braden responded, the burr of the word vibrating against my lips.

No time to complain about him leaving my mouth, I felt the air blow through my hair and we were moving into the hall, down the hall, into my bedroom and then I was falling. I hit the mattress with a surprised ‘oof’ and stared up at Braden indignantly. “Was that necessary?”

“Strip,” he answered gruffly, unbuttoning his shirt with quick, nimble fingers.

My sex clenched. My jaw did too. “Excuse me?”

He stopped what he was doing and leaned down over me, his hands on either side of my hips on the mattress, his face in mine. “A second proposal: when we’re fucking, you don’t argue with me.”

“Bu-”

“Jocelyn,” he murmured in warning.

My eyes dropped to his mouth, the mouth I wanted back on mine. If that meant not arguing during sex, fine. I’d just argue with him when we weren’t having sex. “Why do you insist on calling me Jocelyn?” I made sure my tone wasn’t argumentative, just curious. Because I was curious.

His lips touched mine, soft, gentle, and he pulled back, those pale blue eyes of his bright with heat. “Joss is a girl’s name. Possibly a tomboy’s name.” He smirked. “Jocelyn, on the other hand, is a woman’s name. A really sexy woman’s name.” He pulled back. “So strip, Jocelyn.”

Okay. He could call me Jocelyn.

I sat up and lifted the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. I threw it across the room and took a moment to watch Braden strip out of his own shirt. It dropped to the floor and I watched it, before letting my eyes travel back upwards. I smiled in anticipation at the sight of the hard-on tenting his pants, and then my mouth went dry as I took in his naked torso.

Braden worked out. Like really worked out.

The waist of his pants hung low showing off his flat stomach and the sexy v-cut of his muscles there. I bit my lip. I wanted to touch him. My eyes followed his six-pack up to a strong chest and broad-shoulders. And it was all nicely wrapped up in unblemished golden skin.

“Fuck, Jocelyn.” I looked up and found his gaze blazing even brighter than before. “If you keep looking at me like that, this is going to be over far sooner than I’d like.”

Hmm. I liked that. I liked that I had power over him. “Well, we can’t have that.” I gri

His eyes drifted from my chest to my face and suddenly he looked a little angry. I stiffened in surprise. “Do you know what it’s been like for me since that day in the flat? Sitting across from you in bars, at di

Oh, he was good.

His eyes narrowed as he reached for the buttons and zip on his suit pants. The zip slid down loudly. “I’m going to make you pay for making me wait to have you.”

The throbbing between the legs got worse. Sounds good.

I reached up and unwound my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders in all its glory, shivering as the need in Braden’s eyes sharpened. “Fine,” I agreed huskily.

I don’t know which one of us got our pants off faster after that, but one minute I was trying to take back some control with all my sexy attitude and hair. The next minute I was panty-less on my back, my breasts pressed against Braden’s chest, my thighs spread open to accommodate him between my legs… and I was staring up into his eyes, breathless with anticipation.

“What are you waiting for?” I murmured.

His gave me a wry smile. “For you to back out.”

I huffed in a

“So? You have been before.”

“Braden!” I hit his shoulder as he chuckled softly, and his laughter caused his lower body to move–that long, thick, delicious cock of his sliding down over my belly and back up again.

I gasped at the pulse of pleasure the tease of the action caused and Braden groaned in answer, his lips falling on mine. I’m sure the kiss was meant to be slow, sexy, tormenting. It started out that way.  But weeks of forestalling this moment had made us both a little impatient. The kiss grew aggressive, bruising, my hands gripping tight to his hair, his hands kneading my waist, my ribs, my breasts. My breasts were particularly sensitive, and when his thumb brushed my nipple, my hips jerked against him.

“You like that, babe,” he murmured, not really asking since the answer was obvious. His lips trailed kisses down my jaw and neck, my hands slipping out of his hair to his shoulders as he stopped at my right breast. He placed a soft, deliberate kiss to the rise of it and I swear I stopped breathing. Another kiss. Another.

“Braden…” I begged.

I felt him smile against my breast just before I felt the wet heat of his tongue against my nipple as his lips closed around it, drawing it in deep. A sharp lance of lust shot through my sex. “God, Braden!”

He did the same to the other breast and I found myself tilting my hips into his, more impatient it seemed than even he was. Then again, it had been longer for me.

“Babe,” his voice rumbled above me as his hand slid down to my hip, stilling me. “Are you wet for me yet, Jocelyn?”

Yes. God yes. “Braden…”

“Answer me.” I could feel his hand moving downwards; felt the graze of his fingers high on my i

When I thought about this afterward, I couldn’t believe I wasn’t embarrassed by his question, or his demand. Or how turned on I was giving into that demand. I’d never had a lover speak dirty to me during sex, but it was working for me. “I’m wet for you,” I whispered against his mouth.

Satisfied he kissed me, a deep, exploring kiss, and his tongue slid over mine as his fingers travelled an inch higher. I jerked at the first touch of them brushing against me. No one else’s fingers had been down there in a while. In response Braden’s kiss grew harder, his touch gentler. My lips broke from his in a moan as he slid his thumb into me, finding my clit and pressing down on it.

“Baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, his head falling to the bed beside mine, his lips on my neck as his thumb slid out of me, replacing it with two thick fingers that slipped slowly inside my cha

“More,” I pleaded.

And he gave me more, thrusting his fingers in and out of me. He rose up on his other arm to look down at my face as he worked me towards orgasm.

“Yes,” I sighed, feeling it coil and tighten.

And then his fingers were gone.

“What-”

“You’re not coming until I’m inside you,” he told me, his features harsh with need as he pi

Well I wasn’t going to argue with that.

I held onto my sigh of pleasure at the feel of his throbbing cock at my entrance. He rubbed against me, teasingly, and I wanted to grab his ass and force him inside. But he held tight to my wrists, gri

“Braden,” I growled impatiently.

This only made him laugh. “What, babe?”

“If you don’t hurry up, I’m backing out.”

“Well we can’t have that.” He thrust hard inside me and I whimpered, stiffening at the flinch of discomfort I felt as my body struggled to accept his size.

Braden’s whole body tensed, his eyes dark on me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, exhaling as my body relaxed around him.

His grip on my wrists loosened, but he didn’t let me go. Instead he nudged forward tentatively, his jaw locking, his eyes closing as if he was in pain. “Jesus, Jocelyn,” he breathed hoarsely. “You’re so fucking tight.”