πππππππ: πππ«π€ ππ«π’π¬π‘ ππππ’π π/π ππ¨π¦ππ§ππ (O’Sullivan Brothers #4) by Rie Warren ➱ New Book Release
With a man like Bronson, there are only two options: end up dead or desperately in love.
WHEN I SAID I wanted to be on top, I thought Bronson’s eyes were going to bug right out of his head, and I smiled as I curled my fingers around the thick stiff length of him.
“What?” he blurted out, obviously thinking I meant I wanted to be the one doing the fucking.
I tried not to smirk or laugh when I repeated, “I want to be on top.”
The indignant look he gave me almost made me crack up.
Sucking on his jawline before tracing my lips to his ear, I breathed a horny little moan for him. “Not like that. I don’t want to top you, Bronson. I want to be in your lap so I can ride you.”
He reared back, a devilish grin growing. “Well then. Why didn’t you just say so?”
Letting me shove him back down to the couch, he spread his thighs wide. His cock rose up into full hardness from the nest of springy blond hair at his groin, his big balls pooling below.
“Christ.” I shivered at the sight of him with firelight dancing over his muscular body.
He beckoned me to him. “What are you waitin’ for, baby?”
“Still gonna need some lube.” Strained breaths pelted from me, and my dick that had been aching when he face-fucked me was now painfully rigid.
“No problem.” In the blink of an eye, he produced a small bottle from seemingly out of thin air.
“Jesus. What do you do? Keep it in hidey holes all over the place?” I crawled onto his lap, moaning when my cock slid alongside his.
And then my mind started wandering . . .
If Bronson kept lube all over . . . why?
Had he been lying about his other hookups not being at the house?
Before I even said a word, he scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s for you. Well, me. When we text, and I gotta stroke one out. Never know where I’m gonna be when you get me all horny.”
The relieved breath I released was hot and stuttering, turning into a hungry groan as his slippery digits skimmed down the tight crease between my buttocks.
“Kiss me,” he ordered.
“Uhhh,” I moaned out, his fingers rotating around my pucker before beginning the slide inside.
My mouth covered his, our tongues looping and lashing, slow and sensual . . . as slow and sensual as the way he opened my ass.
He smeared the lube around, making sure my entrance and his fingers were well coated. Then his slickened fingers entered me and twisted, pushing in, pulling back, and spreading me out.
Writhing uncontrollably, I finally had to break the kiss. I threw my head back, riding those thick digits faster while I rocked on his lap.
“Fuck, baby. If you’re not ready now, I ain’t gonna last.” The dirty appreciation in his voice ratcheted my arousal higher.
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