Badd motherf cker, p.8
Badd Motherf*cker, p.8Part #1 of Badd Brothers series by Jasinda Wilder
Made my already pulsing cock throb all the harder.
Her hands drifted up as we kissed, one settling on my arm to stroke my biceps, tracing my ink, the other buried in my hair above my ear and gliding down to trace the outside of my ear--and Jesus fuck me that touch, the softest, gentlest, questing brush of her fingertips over my ear...what was it about it that made me so crazy? It drove me wild, made my chest buzz and my heart hammer and my cock pound and my throat emit a snarl as I scooped her up, carving my hands over her round, juicy ass and lifting her up, pulling her hard against me, shoving my zipper into the tight wedge of her thighs. I slammed her up against the door, and thank god it was locked, otherwise we would have gone toppling outside.
The kiss went wild, then.
As if she were starving. As if this kiss could sate some deep need inside her, as if she'd never been kissed like this. Which had to be a joke, because how could any man have a woman like this in his hands and not go wild? I felt like an animal, my libido gone primal, demanding I paw her clothes off and ravage her senseless, fuck her boneless, make her mine, leave my mark on her pale cream skin. I couldn't stop. I was ravenous, monstrous, feral. My fingers clawed into her ass and my tongue slashed and tangled against hers and my hips drove against her core. She was whimpering, gasping against my mouth, moaning into my kiss, groaning into my lips.
I spun in place, walked three steps forward, and laid her down on a table, kicking chairs aside, my mouth never leaving hers. Her legs hooked around my waist, keeping me in place, firm against her denim-covered core. Didn't stop me from grinding, from moving as if I were fucking her, as if I could feel her tight hot wet pussy through the denim. Much more of this, and I would be. I was hard enough to drive nails at that point, and grinding against her so hard I was in danger of spooging in my shorts like a damn teenager, but fuck if I cared. I needed her, needed more, couldn't stop. Didn't even try.
She was sober, and she wasn't stopping me.
Hell, she was begging for more. Her mouth was wild on mine, kissing me back just as fiercely as I was kissing her.
I needed to fuck this woman.
My hands took over, took my train of thought and ran with it.
My hands left her ass and slid up her hips, pushed the cotton of her sweatshirt up to bare her belly, and then the sports bra. I broke the kiss, slid down her body to flick my tongue in her belly button, then kissed her stomach down toward the waist of the jeans, then back up to her diaphragm. Across her ribs just beneath the lower edge of the sports bra.
No way I could restrain myself, not now that I had my lips on her, not now that I'd gotten a double handful of that sweet ass of hers, and especially not now that I had her prone beneath me, her legs around my waist, her tits inches from my lips, just a bit of fabric between my mouth and her nipples.
A pull and upward tug, and her boobs slid free of the sports bra, and--god, I was just done, then. The sight of those fine-as-fuck tits was nearly too much. I had to clench my muscles and force my come to behave. Big, round, real, just a bit more than a full handful each...the most lush, beautiful tits I'd ever laid eyes on.
"Jesus, Dru." I heard my mouth saying what my cock was thinking. "You are so fuckin' sexy."
"Sebastian--" Her voice was breathy, erotic music to my ears.
I answered by sucking her nipple into my mouth, and they tasted just as fucking divine as I'd imagined last night as I watched the shower water trickle over them, and when I'd jerked off to the image of them last night and again this morning. And if I didn't get off now, I'd be making a trip to the bathroom to jerk off thinking about her again.
She writhed up off the table, pressing herself against me, moaning, cupping my head in both hands, and then I slid my mouth to her other breast and sampled the salty skin flavor of that one, palming the damp, puckered nipple of the one I'd just had in my mouth, and she whimpered again, and the sound went straight to my throbbing cock.
I flicked my tongue against her nipple, one after the other, thumbing and twisting whichever one I didn't have my mouth on. But she had other lips I wanted to taste, and I'd seen those too, just as plump and damp as the ones on her mouth, and I betted they tasted like sugar. I cupped her breast with one hand and flicked her other nipple with my tongue and brought my free hand to the fly of her jeans, ripped open the button and slid the zipper down, shoved my hand beneath her ass and grasped denim and cotton underwear elastic and jerked them down in one rough yank, baring her pussy.
She squealed, but the squeal ended in a whimper as I brushed my lips across her pussy, breathing out as I did so, and she smelled amazing, like good, clean pussy. Recently waxed, soft as silk. Seeping desire. Fuck, I could see the juices dripping down her labia. I licked them away, and she writhed, gasping, and then groaning long and low and fierce as I slathered my tongue against her clit. I dove right in, no fucking around, no teasing, just went straight for eating her pussy like a starving man.
She was twisting under my mouth in no time, bucking, writhing so hard I had to press my forearm across her hips to keep her where I wanted her. Which only drove her crazier.
"Sebastian! Fuck! God, your mouth, it's--fuck!"
"Come for me, Dru." I slipped two fingers inside her tight wet pussy, explored her channel, slid them out, back in, faster, faster, mimicking what I'd do to her with my cock the second I got the chance. "Let me feel this tight fuckin' cunt squeeze around my fingers."
I curled my fingers inside her, felt her shudder, felt her thighs clench around my hand with bruising, crushing force as she bucked up off the table to smash her clit against my mouth. I sucked her clit between my teeth and then flicked it with my tongue and fucked her with my fingers. I pinched her nipples, one then the other, sucked, licked, flicked, and fingered her to pulsating, clenching, spasming, teeth-gnashing orgasm.
Inside--Jesus Christ...I needed to be inside her.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck--Sebastian, oh my god, oh my god--" Dru panted, the words nearly lost in the grinding of her teeth and the hoarse whimpers.
Then, mid-orgasm, she completely lost her goddamn mind.
"STOP! STOP! Jesus Christ, what the fuck am I doing?" She kicked me away, fighting her orgasm, trying to stand up, to get away from me, trying, it sort of seemed, to even get away from herself, from the pleasure rushing through her.
She lunged off the table, and I let her. At least, until I realized she wasn't capable of even standing up straight, yet. I caught her, pulled her against my chest and held her as she shivered and shuddered through the last waves of her climax, and then crouched without letting go of her and snagged her jeans to drag them up her body. Got them to just beneath her butt cheeks and then slid her underwear up, tracing a finger around the circumference of the waistband to make sure they were up all the way around her body, then tugged her jeans into place, zipped and snapped them. Tugged her bra down over her tits--a sad thing, to have to put away such sweet tits--and lastly let her shirt fall into place so she was dressed.
She shoved away from me, stumbling backward, wiping at her mouth and staring at me in disbelief. "I can't believe myself. Fuck--fuck." She leaned against the table I'd just laid her down across. "I cannot believe I just--goddammit--"
"Dru, what's the problem? I thought you wanted that. It felt like you were into it, babe." I moved closer to her, mainly because I couldn't help it.
The woman was fucking magnetic. I was drawn to her helplessly. I had to be closer, had to get my hands on her again, in any capacity I could.
She skittered away, putting out her hands as if to fend me off. "Stop, don't, Sebastian--don't touch me."
I stopped, hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, hands off, but I gotta admit I'm a little confused." I watched her carefully, watching a river of emotions flicker across her features too fast for me to read any of them.
She shook her head. "That wasn't supposed to happen. I shouldn't have done that. Not with you, not now. Not at all. Jesus, I'm just so fucking mixed up, a
"Whoa, okay--just take a breath, all right? Why don't you sit down?" I pulled out a chair at the bar for her, and she sort of automatically sat down, breathing hard and scrubbing at her face. I went around behind the bar and pulled her a beer, because if I know anything it's when someone needs a beer. "Drink, Dru."
"I don't want a drink," she said, her hands over her face.
"Yes, you do."
She peered at me, then glanced down at the beer I'd pulled--a lightly hopped local ale. "Maybe I do. God, I'm a mess."
"It's allowed," I said, leaning on the bar closer to her, just so I could smell her intoxicating scent, if nothing else.
She took a drink, sighed. "You mentioned breakfast? I don't know if I can handle anything else on an empty stomach."
I strode over to the stairs, opened the door and yelled up. "Zane! Where the fuck is the food?"
"What, I'm supposed to serve your ass too?" Zane shouted back, but I heard his feet on the stairs.
He came down precariously balancing three plates in his hands. He handed me two of them, paused in the doorway as he caught sight of Dru hunched over the bar, curled around her beer and struggling to calm down...at ten o'clock in the morning.
He quirked an eyebrow at me. "That's all you, bro."
"Thanks," I said, rolling my eyes at him as he tiptoed dramatically back up the stairs. "Sissy."
"Hey, give me a tango with an AK over a weepy female any day of the week." He shut the door at the top of the stairs, and then I was alone with Dru.
Who was, yes, crying into her beer.
God help me.
Zane might have been on to something. What was I supposed to do now? I had no clue. I wasn't even sure what the fuck had just happened to make Dru freak out on me like that. All I knew for sure was she tasted like heaven on my tongue and felt like perfection in my hands and I was still so fucking hard in my jeans it was hard to walk.
I brought the plates over to the bar, pulled myself a beer--because, fuck it, why not?--set a plate in front of Dru and sat beside her with mine. She didn't openly flinch away from my presence--we were close enough that our shoulders were brushing. She picked up her fork, poked at the eggs a few times, and then dug in eagerly. I followed suit, but spent as much time watching her as I did eating.
"Not bad," I commented. "He overcooked the bacon and undercooked the eggs a little, but not bad."
She ignored me, focusing on the food, washing down every few bites with beer. When she was finished, she pushed the plate back a few inches, curled her hands around the pint glass, and stared down into the golden bubbling liquid.
I waited, sensing that she'd start talking when she was ready.
"I caught my fiance cheating on me with a bridesmaid on our wedding day. Yesterday, I guess. Feels like a whole other life, in a funny way. Like...the naive girl who thought she was getting married to a man she loved. I was that girl just yesterday, but today I feel like someone else."
"Was the bridesmaid one of your friends?" I asked.
Dru shook her head. "No. I don't really have any female friends, to be honest. No sisters, cousins, aunts, nothing. Just me and my dad. The bridesmaids were all my--they were all Michael's friends' girlfriends. And the one he was fucking, Tawny, she was a friend of one of the other bridesmaids. There were three groomsmen--Michael's three best friends--and Michael felt we needed a third bridesmaid, so Lisa asked her friend. I'd met Tawny like, twice? Maybe? We'd all get together for drinks, and Tawny was there a couple times. I never liked her. I always thought she came across as kind of slutty. Turns out I was right, apparently."
"Apparently," I agreed. "Think that was a one-and-done sort of thing? Like, he cheated on you just the once?"
"That's what I can't figure out. I can't come up with any warning signs I missed along the way. So, from that aspect I want to say, yes, it was the one time. But then that doesn't make any sense, does it? Why on our wedding day? It makes literally zero sense. On our wedding day, in his dressing room, in the same building as me. I was literally around the corner and down the hall, getting myself ready." She sniffed. "I was...I was having jitters, you know? Like, am I doing the right thing? So I put on my dad's coat over my dress so Michael wouldn't see me in my dress before the wedding, and went to see Michael. I thought he would calm me down, remind me why we were getting married."
"And you walked in on him fuckin' a bridesmaid."
"Not quite. I didn't actually go in." She took a drink, swirled the dregs. "His friends, the groomsmen and the bridesmaids, they were all sitting outside his dressing room watching something on one of their phones, laughing like crazy. I was like 'hey, what's so funny?' and they went quiet, like oh it's nothing. Just a stupid video going around. Then I heard him. I know the sounds he makes when he's fucking, and that's what I heard, which made me wonder why they were all so weird about that video. So I made them show me. And it was him, in that dressing room, fucking Tawny."
"They recorded it?" I asked, incredulous.
Who the hell would do that?
She nodded. "Through the cracked-open door. The funny part was that he had his tux pants around his ankles, right? And he was going at her like crazy, got a little too into it and tripped over his pants and fell backward onto his ass. His dick went flopping all over the place and Tawny was left wiggling her stupid little hips like he was still fucking her, but he was on the floor with his dick out and his pants around his ankles.
"They were watching this over and over again, cackling, while he was still going at it inside the room, fucking Tawny on our wedding day." She heaved a sigh. "I just don't get it. He couldn't wait till, like, after our honeymoon to cheat on me? He couldn't even make it through the actual wedding day? Like what the fuck? And me, like...what the hell is wrong with me that he'd claim to love me, that he'd propose to me, plan a wedding with me, and then cheat on me? And that I had no idea? What have I been missing?"
"He's an idiot," I said.
"Yeah. That's a given." She shook her head in disbelief. "But it calls so much into question. About me. Like...why am I not good enough? Why was I not enough for him? It's not like we never had sex, you know? We did. Pretty frequently. Not every day, but a lot. And I--I always thought it was pretty good between us. But I guess it wasn't. If he had to go to someone else, on our fucking wedding day, then obviously I'm missing something. There's something I didn't give him that he needed."
"Now that's bullshit," I said. I grabbed her knees and spun her to face me. "This ain't on you. He's the cheating bastard. One hundred percent of the blame falls on him. Even if you guys had been having trouble, like things weren't great and the sex wasn't on point all the time or whatever so he wasn't getting it from you--that doesn't give him reason to go fuckin' around with other girls."
"But that's my point. Sex was good. We both got off, or at least he did every time. I didn't always, but he did. He got it from me, and he still cheated on me, and god knows who else while we were together. I mean, there had to have been others in the four years we were together."
I felt a little unhinged, thinking about some other asshole with his ungrateful hands on this goddess. He'd had her sweet, sexy body all to himself whenever he wanted it...I couldn't imagine not making sure she went to bed so glutted on orgasms she couldn't stay awake any longer, so thoroughly fucked she couldn't walk the next day. I couldn't imagine not doing anything and everything to please her. God, I'd only made her come once, and she'd freaked out halfway through, but I knew watching her come would be its own reward every single time. Making her come, feeling her come apart, watching that beautiful face twist as she came, feeling that goddamned incredible body buck and writhe, her sweat under my hands, her pussy under my mouth, her cunt squeezing my fingers--Jesus, she squeezed hard, too. I could only imag
The asshole didn't deserve her.
He didn't deserve to fucking live if he had this woman, had the opportunity to make her his forever...and then wasted it.
He gave real men a bad name.
I was a player, sure. I fucked a lot of different women on a regular basis. There'd been threesomes, and foursomes, and two girls in the same night at different times. The most I'd ever had in one night, but not in my bed at the same time, was four girls and, god, I'd barely been able to walk the next day, but it had been fucking worth it. But I'd never made any promises to anyone. I'd always been up front about how shit was. I made it clear we were gonna fuck and she was gonna go her way. No cuddling, no pillow talk, no seconds. I'd only broken that rule once, for one woman. She'd been a cougar, and had taught me a few tricks; the sex had honestly been good enough that I'd been the one to want seconds when she'd been ready to leave after the first round.
I hadn't even had her once, and I wanted thirds, and fourths.
And the stupid bastard had given that up?
Dru glanced at me, and I realized I'd been spacing out, thinking. "What's that look on your face for?"
I shook my head. "You probably don't wanna know."
She tossed back the last of her beer and glared at me. "Don't tell me what I don't wanna know."
I finished my own beer and pushed the glass aside. Took her knees in my hands, slid a little closer to her. "Fine. I was thinking that I've never had it good enough with any one girl that I've ever wanted to bang anyone more than once. That's the truth. But you? Dru, if I got you into my bed, I'd never let you out." I stood up off the stool and crowded her space, stared down into her eyes, let her see the truth in mine.
Badd Motherf*cker by Jasinda Wilder / Romance & Love / History & Fiction have rating 3.6 out of 5 / Based on25 votes