Breaking Brent Part 16

She risked looking up at him and liked what she saw. Brent's back was against the couch, his head resting on the cus.h.i.+ons, hands fisted at his sides. Peyton smiled before she could stop herself. Caution was thrown to the wind and all of her inhibitions flew away as she worked the buckle on his belt loose. It came apart easier than she thought it would have.

The b.u.t.ton of his jeans was next.

She popped it easily and saw his stomach quiver. She licked the spot where the quiver had started and then licked the spot where the quiver had stopped. When she did, Brent sucked in a deep breath and the zipper released on its own.

Peyton realized at that moment that he wore no underwear. He was bare. There was nothing else separating his c.o.c.k from her. Desire fueled her movements. With ease and care, she ran her fingers across the hardened flesh she could see. She took his jeans by the waist and pulled.

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They didn't move.

Her gaze traveled the length of his body until they reached his face. When their eyes met Brent lifted his hips, letting Peyton ease his jeans down his thighs. When she looked back down, she swallowed-and almost choked.

He was huge.

Beautifully so.

His c.o.c.k was long and thick and perfect in shape and size. How could she have forgotten such an intimate detail about his body? Maybe she hadn't forgotten. Maybe she had blocked it out for her own good.

Veins ran the sides leading to the bulging head that was swollen and dark. She could feel herself getting slick and slippery as she looked her fill. But she wanted to do more than look.

She wrapped her hand around him, or tried to, then slowly moved her fingers and head at the same time. When the head of his c.o.c.k met her tongue she heard him hiss a curse. She didn't know what he had actually said, she didn't even know if it was English, and she really didn't care.

Peyton flicked her tongue across the bulging head of his c.o.c.k more than once. She was rewarded with a salty pearl of moisture from the opening. With her free hand, she moved her hair away from her face and took him into her mouth. As she slid her mouth down, covering as much of his girth as she could, he lifted his hips.

It took Peyton a second to notice he was pumping gently into her mouth. This time she moaned. The vibrations from her throat must have felt good because Brent moaned and pumped deeper. She took as much of him as she could, but it wasn't enough. She wanted more. Her hands stroked the flesh underneath her seeking lips as she worked her mouth farther down on him.

"Harder." His m.u.f.fled request brought her eyes to his. He was watching her. Watching her as she worked her mouth and tongue over his extended length. She drew him into her mouth once more, held the pressure and sucked. Her efforts were rewarded with a moan. Her own throat copied the sound.

Moving up and down, keeping a constant rhythm and a consistent amount of suction, she adored his c.o.c.k with her tongue and mouth.

Peyton willed herself to keep her own hands away from her begging body, but it was easier said than done. Each time his hips moved, bringing him closer and deeper into her throat, she felt the muscles of her p.u.s.s.y tense.

She was so consumed by what she was doing and the sensations running through her she gasped and squealed when Brent's arms surrounded her waist and pulled her beneath him on the couch.

Those perfect lips of his seized her own and fused them together. His kiss was always domineering and demanding, but this kiss was different. It was carnal. Peyton's eyes flew open when she felt the heat of his hand against her hip slip underneath her gown.

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She whimpered in the back of her throat when she felt the material pa.s.s her hip and then her waist until it rested just below her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The only thing separating them now was the thin white lace thong she had pulled on after her shower. Why she'd put underwear on she didn't know. She didn't bother with wearing a bra. Why the thong?

Because the things made her feel s.e.xy. They made her fell feminine. They made her feel wanted and desired-and Brent loved them. He always had. It seemed he still did.

Brent made quick work of disposing of her gown. It ended up in a ball next to his s.h.i.+rt on the floor.

He pushed his body away from hers and supported his weight on his extended arms. Peyton watched as the cords of muscles played beneath his skin.

She watched as his gaze raked her body, and the look in his eyes sent s.h.i.+vers from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He leaned down and kissed her once more, a quick kiss without pressure or play. He returned to his original position and said, "My turn."

98.

Chapter Fifteen.

Brent took a second to calm his breathing and control the l.u.s.t driving his body. He wanted nothing more than to rid her of the little sc.r.a.p of material she wore as panties. The white against her tanned flesh was intoxicating enough. When you added in her legs, her lips and her mouth she had the whole package.

When she'd sucked him into her mouth it had taken all of his control to keep from coming. He wanted to-what man wouldn't? But not yet. First he was going to see if she tasted as good as he remembered. He wanted to see if she tasted just as sweet as she did in his dreams.

Placing a hand on each of her hips, he pulled her farther down into the softness of the couch. With her back flat and her legs wide there was no stopping him from licking and tasting to his heart's content. His hands played along the lines of her legs and caused goose b.u.mps to form beneath his fingertips.

He inched back, moving his body away from the junction of her thighs. When his fingers reached for the lacy band just below her bellyb.u.t.ton she stopped him. Moving his hands away, she let hers take their place. She slowly moved the material down her legs and let the lacy sc.r.a.p fall to the floor beside them.

While she stripped for him he was awestruck by the perfection of her body.

Toned, honey-tanned legs, lean waist, flared hips and more. Brent's eyes traveled her body until they landed where he wanted his mouth to be. Her p.u.s.s.y was bare, devoid of hair, and he could see her glistening softness begging for his touch. He gave the lady what she wanted.

Bending at the waist, he let his tongue travel and trail the slick line of her p.u.s.s.y lips. Her hips bucked against his mouth, making him smile into her flesh. His tongue glided farther and farther until he found the center of her heat. G.o.d, she tasted sweet. Honey. That's all he could think. She was just like honey.

Brent brought his hands to rest on the insides of her thighs and gently pushed them apart. The action caused her to open completely for him. His breath hitched and his c.o.c.k begged to be closer. Not yet, he told himself. Not yet.

With an open mouth and utter enthusiasm, he licked and lapped at her. The grinding motion she was making with her hips brought her closer to his seeking mouth and then farther away. His thumbs rested on each side of her opening and he separated the folds and brought his tongue against her. She moaned-deep and low. Her hips thrust toward him and he let them. He savored her delectable taste.

He loved to feel her hands in his hair, pulling his face, mouth and tongue closer to her silky warmth.

With one hand, he held her open for his mouth while the other made its way to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He found her nipples with ease, especially in their hard, puckered state. He rolled one between his fingers and plucked gently. Her breath caught in her throat and then she moaned and he did as well.

He found the peak of her second nipple. It was as hard as the first, and he rolled it with precision. As he worked her nipple into a harder bud, he bathed her p.u.s.s.y with long, slow strokes. Her hips were becoming erratic and forceful. She pulled at his hair, sc.r.a.ped at his bare back, and tried pulling him to her with her legs.

He lifted his body from its bent position and watched as his fingers took his tongue's place. He flirted with her c.l.i.t, rubbing the tip of his finger over it several times before descending lower. When he found her entrance, Brent slid one finger fully into her body. G.o.d, she was tight. He slid his finger back and then added a second.

It wasn't right. She couldn't be this hot, this wet, this f.u.c.king tight. He wouldn't make it a full minute inside of her. Catching sight of his c.o.c.k begging and pleading to be closer, to be surrounded, he gave in to temptation. Keeping his fingers deep within her, working her, stretching her, making her pleasure mount, he reached for the billfold in his back pocket.

He flipped it open with one hand and removed the foil packet from the slot on the side. Brent increased his thrusts with his fingers while ripping the package with his teeth. With practiced patience and precision, he placed the condom on the end of his straining c.o.c.k. He rolled the latex over his flesh and caused a stream of pleasure to rise in him. Nope, he wasn't going to last long.

He eased his fingers from her body and moved to place his hard thighs in between her soft ones.

Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before both sets became fixated on the point that would soon join them. Brent took his c.o.c.k in his hand, ran it up and down against her and then slowly, so f.u.c.king slowly, slid into place.

"f.u.c.k!" He groaned. Too tight. She would squeeze him to death before this was over. He eased slowly away from her, allowing her body to stretch and soften around him. He gritted his teeth and he joined their bodies once again. Halfway to heaven.

"Look at me." Her gla.s.sy, glossy eyes met his. Perfect. "Watch me. Watch me make you come, Peyton. Watch me."

He let his gaze travel down. Seeing the picture their joined bodies created broke his control. Thrusting with force, he planted himself to the hilt inside of her. She moaned and he felt her legs trap his waist. He found his rhythm, which wasn't hard to do because Peyton was more than willing to help set their pace.

When he withdrew she arched to him. When he plunged deep she brought her hips up, meeting him in the middle.

He stiffened his arms, lifted his body and let go, taking her with full force. He pumped and thrust with all his might and felt his b.a.l.l.s draw tight beneath his cream-covered c.o.c.k. The faster he stroked, the harder he hammered, the more she moaned.

100.

"More," she panted, her nails dragging lines into his forearms. Brent gave her more. They went at each other with hunger. As much as Brent wanted to watch, he couldn't. He couldn't because he needed to kiss her. He needed to thrust his tongue deep in her mouth just as he was thrusting his d.i.c.k deep inside of her.

He surrendered to his need and captured her mouth, tearing at her with his tongue and his lips.

Sweet. So sweet.

Those where his last thoughts. Peyton clenched around him, sank her nails into his shoulders and screamed and moaned and groaned as she came. And she kept coming. Brent felt her muscles jump and tremble around him. It was his undoing. Locking their mouths together, he increased his tempo, drove himself deeper until he felt the o.r.g.a.s.m begin deep inside of his soul.

He came in heavy and long spurts and his arms, legs and whole body shook at his release.

Exhausted and satisfied, he let his body relax against hers. Even though they were finished, both of them sated, his lips still traveled across hers. She returned every other kiss. Her breathing was as labored as his was and the smile that creased her face was limp and lazy. The smile of a happy woman.

He wanted to stay as they lay forever, but that wasn't possible. With more regret than he should have had, he pulled away from her and stood up from the couch. He hitched the jeans he still wore to his hips and covered his semi-hard flesh as much as he could. Walking toward the kitchen, he sucked in a giant breath. He let the air fill his lungs and relax his muscles. When he grasped his c.o.c.k to dispose of the condom, he realized he was still more hard than not.

He couldn't get enough.

He couldn't get enough of her.

As he walked back to the living room he found Peyton pulling the soft cotton gown over her head. His voice must have startled her because she jumped when he spoke.

"You're not going to need that." Embarra.s.sed by her nakedness she blushed a light pink color.

"I'm not?"

"We're not finished. Not by a long shot." His made his way over to her and wrapped her in his arms.

She opened her mouth to speak but didn't. Taking her by the hand he led her to her room.

Inside, he watched her move to the bed first while he worked to remove his boots. Toeing each of them off as he walked to the edge of the bed didn't take a lot of effort. Once at the bed, he pushed the jeans resting against his hips to the floor along with his socks. From the corner of his eye he saw Peyton watching him from the far side of her bed. The comforter had changed as well as the wall color, but the room and its furnis.h.i.+ng were the same as the last time he had been here.

He quirked a finger in her direction and beckoned for her to come to him. She did without pause. His lips found hers without any trouble. One kiss after another, he drank from her swollen mouth. He lifted his head briefly and saw the light from the bedside lamp reflected in her eyes.

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Gorgeous.

"Now, let's see how this bed feels." He pushed her back onto the comforter and covered her body with his before she could speak or think. He liked her like this. Soft, sweet and willing. Of course, he kept the knowledge of who he was in bed with at the back of his mind.

"Peyton?" He lowered his voice as her name drifted from his mouth.

"Brent?"

He liked that. He liked the way her voice wrapped around his name. "I like that," he admitted, and it earned him a smile from her.

"What?"

His teeth found that sweet spot at the side of her neck where her pulse began to beat heavily once again as she spoke. He nipped with his teeth and heard her moan once more before answering. "The way my name sounds coming from your lips."

"Brent," she whispered. "Brent." With the last syllable out, he took her lips and then took her body well into the night.

102.

Chapter Sixteen.

Peyton stirred from her sleep hours before the sun even decided to come up. She tried to stretch and realized that a heavy hand rested across her stomach. That hand connected to an arm and that arm to a body-Brent's body. He lay beside her, sleeping on his side with her body pulled close to his.

He was warm and his even and slow breathing caused a drowsiness to fall over her mind, body and soul. She turned her head slowly and quietly and studied him. In his sleeping state he didn't look as harsh as he usually did. To most people, Brent was standoffish and not the easiest to get to know or to get close to, but she knew better. Brent was Brent. No, he wasn't as kind hearted as Nick, or as boyishly charming as Jace or Hayden, or as friendly as they came like Chase. Brent was something entirely different.

She used to relish in the fact that she knew him-really knew him. She knew that he liked sitting at home watching movies cuddled together on the couch as much as he liked going out and raising h.e.l.l. She knew that when asleep, his body was never far from hers. She also knew that the Brent she knew was totally different from the one most everyone else knew.