Thank you to @stardust-in-his-eyes for letting me use your idea! :)
He presses his lips to your forehead while you shiver, too uncomfortable to enjoy the feeling. “Oh yeah, baby, you definitely have a fever,” he says.
“I don’t feel good,” you moan.
“I know, love.” Brendon tucks your blanket around you and then slides his arms under you. “I’m taking you upstairs,” he whispers in explanation. “You need to go to bed.” You make another pained noise. He pulls you tighter against his body when he walks up the stairs, so he doesn’t jostle you. You shudder when he places you on the bed. The cool bed sheets are normally pleasant, but even with your blanket burrito wrapping you, you’re too cold to enjoy them. Brendon covers you in your weighted blanket and lays down next to you on top of it.
“Go away,” you shoo. “I’ll get you sick.” He pouts, not moving. You want to shove him off the bed, but you don’t want to take any of your limbs out of the blanket, so you settle for a glare until he gets the message.
“Fine, baby,” he finally says, rolling off the bed. “I know when I’m not wanted. Guess I’ll just be all alone,” he mopes.
You close your eyes, trying to melt into the bed. “Your emotional manipulation will not work on me. You can sleep in the guest room.”
•••
“Out,” you say, not opening your eyes but hearing his footsteps. Brendon’s been trying to sneak into your bed all week. You’ve been staying hyper-vigilant, so he doesn’t get sick, but your willpower is waning the longer you’re without his cuddles.
“I’m not here to snuggle,” he assures, but his tone is slightly glum. “I brought you tea.”
You open one eye to check, and sure enough, he’s wearing a mask and gloves and holding a thermos of tea. He props you up with pillows so you can drink without spilling on yourself. “Thank you, Bren.” You take a sip of the tea, and the warmth and peppermint immediately soothe your throat.
“Of course, baby. Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable? Do you want soup or a bath or more fever meds?”
You shake your head. “It’s just nice to see you. I miss you.”
“The doctor said it should be safe for me to be near you tomorrow, love. So just stay strong until then,” he comforts.
•••
Every hour that goes by just makes you want him more. You know you were the one insisting he stay away, but you’re starting to regret holding on so firmly to that stance. He comes out of the master bathroom into the bedroom, wrapped in only a towel, and you whine. Loudly. “Let me blow you,” escapes your mouth before you can stop it.
He looks up from adjusting the towel around his waist with a surprised expression. “Baby, no- Illness,” he stammers out, flustered.
You sigh, crossing your arms. “I know. I know. Contagion. Plus, my throat hurts too much to blow you,” you say. “But you’re silly if you think a little bit of illness can get in the way of my horny slut impulses. If anything, it’s made them worse going so long without you. I miss feeling you get hard in my hand and then feeling you hold back from thrusting into the wet heat of my mouth and finally, when you can’t take it anymore, coming on my face or tits.”
Brendon’s eyes are wide in both shock and lust. “Jesus. You really are desperate.”
You nod quickly. “Very,” you confirm, but a coughing fit overtakes you, and Brendon’s lust disappears, quickly replaced with pity and concern. He hands you a glass of water and rubs your back as your fit subsides. You sip the water. “Thank you, B.”
“Of course. I’ll do whatever you want when you’re feeling better,” Brendon promises. “Now, if you don’t need anything else, I’m going back to the guest room where I’ll miss you dearly and count down the minutes until tomorrow when we can safely snuggle.”
•••
“Brendon, I’m on the third day of my antibiotics; I’m not contagious anymore. You can come cuddle now,” you rasp as loudly as possible through your still sore throat. You get out your phone to text him, figuring he won’t be able to hear you.
Before you even type in your passcode, Brendon is leaping onto your bed, pulling you into his arms. “The next time you’re sick, I’m just risking infection. I missed you,” he says into your hair.
You melt in his arms. “You’ve been risking infection all week, B: bringing me soup and Gatorade and toast, helping me shower, reading to me from across the room,” you point out.
Brendon makes a noise, considering what you’ve said. “Yes, true, but I couldn’t do this,” he says before kissing all over your face.
You smile, letting him finish before lunging forward to kiss him for real. You nibble on his bottom lip before his mouth parts to let you kiss you deeper. You lick around his lips, moaning happily. “It’s good to have you back, Bren,” you say when you finally part.
He affectionately squeezes you tighter. “Bet it’s not as nice as having you back. You, at least, had an illness to distract you during the lonely nights.”
“And you call me dramatic.” You roll your eyes playfully.
•••
“One more episode,” you beg, internally cursing yourself for not grabbing the remote from him when you had a chance. You’re admittedly barely watching the show, but he’ll make you sleep now that the episode is over, and you love the way he’s holding you too much to be unconscious for it.
Brendon clicks off the television. “You need your rest, princess. I need my girl one hundred percent better. I hate to see you sick and miserable.” He pets your hair soothingly when you start to protest. “Just a little nap, baby. And then we can take a warm bath together, and I’ll bundle you up in soft towels to watch more TV together.”
You roll over so he can see your pout. “I don’t want to sleep. I’m not even tired. I want to hang out with you,” you complain before you gasp as an idea pops into your mind. “But, I know something that’ll tire me out,” you say, suggestively running a hand down his chest to the front of his pajama pants.
“Baby,” he warns.
“Pleeease,” you wheedle. “I’ll go right to sleep with no complaints.” You play with the drawstring on his pants.
“Still, love, that doesn’t sound very restful. You’re sick. You shouldn’t be working too hard.”
“I’ll just lie here while you do all the work, Brendon. And you know I always sleep so much better after coming hard. Especially on your cock.” You start to stroke lightly over the front of his pants, just a tiny tease. You make a small triumphant noise to yourself when you eventually feel him slowly begin to swell under your fingers as he thinks about making love to you. “C’mon, B, I can feel you. I know you want to,” you coax.
You keep stroking him for another minute in silence, letting him decide. He finally rolls over on top of you, almost fully hard now. He leans in, so his mouth is just barely touching yours. “Fine, you’ve broken me down. But then you immediately go to sleep, okay?”
“Yes. Right to sleep,” you readily agree against his lips, and he kisses you hurriedly while you work together to get his pajama pants off. Finally, you move your sleep shorts to the side, a familiar move for when you both wake up in the middle of the night desperate for each other.
He sinks into you slowly, a hand on your hip to keep you from bucking up and meeting his thrusts. He knows how easily you can turn tender lovemaking into frenzied fucking, especially when you’re as needy as you are now. You’re being a good girl for him though, worried that he’ll stop if you don’t hold onto your end of the bargain and stay mostly still.
Brendon pulls almost all the way out before he rocks forward again, taking the time to rub his pubic bone against you. He expertly hits your g-spot with his cock while he grinds against your clit and the deep satisfaction you feel is overwhelming. You cry out and rake your nails down his back. His subtle but perfect movements stutter slightly at the unexpected pain mingling with the pleasure around his cock. He recovers quickly, resuming steady thrusts.
You realize your eyes are closed, and you open them to look up at him, expecting to see his face tipped back in bliss. Instead, he’s focused intently on your face, almost studying you. He leans down to kiss you deeply, his soft lips working against yours meticulously. You moan into his mouth, relishing the feeling of his tongue on yours.
You wrap your legs around his to feel him deeper inside you. He moves his hand from your hip to stroke your clit, and you contract around him repeatedly. “So good for me, baby. I love you,” Brendon murmurs against your lips before pulling off your lips to nibble on your jawline.
“Love you too, Brendon,” you gasp. “You take such good care of me.”
His stomach tenses, and he rubs your clit faster.
“Are you about to come for me, Brendon? I’m almost there for you,” you tell him.
“So close, baby. You’re so tight and wet around me. Can I come inside you?”
You come around him, biting his shoulder. “Yes please. Come inside me,” you moan.
You feel the hot pulse of him coming in you before he relaxes and cuddles up with you. “This was a good idea,” Brendon says to you, but you’re already halfway asleep, exhausted by the rush of good hormones in your body. Brendon chuckles softly, stroking your arm. “Sleep well, love. Feel better,” is the last thing you hear before passing out in his arms.
Fluff and smut. So much smut. I haven't written anything in a long time, so I need to catch up. This hasn't been edited at all bc I get too hung up on revisions and never post lol
Reader x Brendon.
Warnings: So...we’ve (@loverontheleft) created a points system for smut.
0.25 for handjob
0.25 for fingering
0.5 for blowing him
0.5 for going down on her
0.75-1.0 for sex, vanilla
1.5-2.0 for sex, advanced positions
3.0 for bondage, spanking, other kinks (threesome/toy-incorporated sex), or public sex.
This has a score of 7.5, along with dirty talk, general language.
Word count: 7.2k
Summertime danced over the teardrop crystals running down his smooth body as his triceps flexed, lifting himself up from the pool edge. Catching his footing, he straightened up and flicked the water from the tips of his dark hair with both hands.
Treading water from the center of the pool, sunlit ripples refracted sparkling light along the Tiffany Blue pool walls. Although the large sunglasses covered much of your face, the slight uptick curving your lips alluded to your secret, sinful thoughts.
Even though you’d just been dating a few weeks, Brendon recognized the silent smile. He’d seen it too many times, by fans, friends, lovers, to be surprised by it.
Breaking the tension of your gaze, he lifted a bright orange beach towel up to his chest with both hands. Closing his eyes tightly, his lips pursed and made a kissy sound, eliciting a giggle from high in your chest.
As you swam to the edge where his wet footprints disappeared on the scorching cement, he dried his hair and face briskly. Your slow exhale didn’t go unnoticed as he ran the broad towel down his body.
It felt like some kind of cruel reverse striptease as peeks of his tanned skin disappeared under the towel. A dry breath caught in your throat as he smoothed his left hand over the front of his shorts, checking himself before dropping the towel over an adirondack chair back.
He was always at least half-hard whenever you were together. The first night you met, it sent a shock through your body, feeling it pressing, thick and throbbing, into your belly as you danced together at a friend’s wedding. It made heat rise to your cheeks and dampen your panties, which he pulled down with his teeth between speeches.
Impossible. It didn’t just feel impossible. It was entirely impossible to draw away from the gravity of his gaze, the heat of his fingertips dancing up your thigh, his breathy moan vibrating to your core as his soft lips drew over yours, just under the hem of your sapphire tea dress.
He chuckled mirthfully, collecting your dry towel in his fist before stalking down the length of the pool to the shallow end. And you swam after, not unlike a lovesick pup.
Waiting on the top step leading into the pool, he stretched open the wide towel. His dark eyes twinkled something mischievous as he called out to you. “Come on, babe. About time for lunch.”
Getting onto your feet, you walked the last few steps into his arms. Tossing one edge of the towel over your head, he collected you to himself, squeezing you tightly for a moment before rubbing your arms and shoulders briskly.
“Tha-a-ank yo-o-ou, Brr-en-don,” you elongated, letting your voice vibrate with the energetic rub-down.
He ducked under the edge covering your head and nudged his nose to yours. “Of course,” he grinned, as his hands slid over the orange terry cloth, down your sides to your hips. His fingertips massaged at the bikini line he said that he loved so much.
Tugging the towel from around you, he tossed it with his and laced fingers between yours, leading into the cool shade provided by the palm tree nearest the back door. Just as he reached for the handle, your free hand stroked along his spine.
The muscles tensed in his back and he froze. And for a split second, you started to giggle at how responsive he was to your touch. But his arm snaked around your hips and drew you to his chest so quickly, you squealed in surprise instead.
Dark-eyed like a cat mesmerized by a feather, his gaze followed the water droplets trickling from your clavicle down the curve of your cleavage, pressed firmly to his chest. Cursing under his breath, he cupped the back of your neck and descended onto your throat.
“Fuck,” he swore through gritted teeth, grazing and tugging at your flesh, “you don’t know what you fucking do to me.”
Running your hands through his damp hair, you arched just slightly, as much as his firm grip on your hips would allow.
“I know what you do to me.” You panted, feeling a thumb hook and tug away the left cup of your top. Nibbles and kisses gave way to parted lips and a tongue that swirled your soft nipple into his mouth.
Digging crescent nails into his shoulders, gasping as his tongue ran circles around the hardening nub. The slightest graze of a sharp tooth before he moved to the other side sent a shock down your body and a pulse between your thighs.
His palm slid down your belly and felt the slick heat pooled in your bottoms. His middle finger slipped along your slit and then swirled all of the slick liquid around your swollen clit.
Straightening up, he tossed his hair back and arched a brow, watching your tense expression. Pressing you back against the glass door, he pinned you there with his dark gaze and two fingers massaging into your aching cunt.
Planting his forearm to the cool glass above your head, his slippery fingers continued their torturous work between your thighs. You clutched onto his bicep like a security blanket.
“Aw, my sweet girl,” he chided gently, nuzzling your ear, “d’you like that?”
The pace of his ministrations almost felt like too much, forcing a strangled mewl as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder and came undone embarrassingly quickly on his hand.
He stroked your wet hair soothingly and collected the nails dug into his hip. With a quick kiss of your fingers wrapped around his thumb, he tossed your arm around his neck and pressed his mouth to your nape, soothing your quivering form with gentle kisses.
Between the friction of your bodies, the ties must have come undone because his shorts slipped dangerously low around his hips. The fabric barely contained his throbbing cock which you mercifully took in hand and began to stroke.
Hissing a sharp breath through his teeth, he grabbed your wrist and held your hand still—except for your thumb circling the dew drops collecting at the tip.
“Give me… a second…” he panted, closing his lust-blown eyes tightly.
“I want your cock.”
“If you don’t give me a second,” he warned with a breathy chuckle, “this is gonna be over before it starts.”
Leaving your top just as he’d pulled it away, you sunk down onto your knees and gave him your best pout. “I’ll be good, I promise.”
Holding under your chin, he thumbed over your cheek. “You’re always my good girl.”
With a smile in your eyes and his hand still under your chin, you lifted up from sitting on your feet and licked a long, slow stripe over the head of his cock. He gasped and pulsed when you showed him the clear liquid you’d collected from him still shiny on your tongue.
“My fucking best girl.” He bent down, holding your jaw up to himself, and kissed your lips.
Wrapping two fingers and your thumb around his base like a cockring, you squeezed and drew him into your hungry mouth. His fingers laced into your hair, encouraging your enthusiastic sucking. Your fingers trailed up his v-line to his hips when he straightened up and dropped his head back. He rocked himself forward, meeting the bobbing of your head until you coughed around the head in the back of your throat.
Lips parted and brows lifted in the center, his hazy gaze met yours. “I’m sorry, baby,” he soothed, reaching down to draw himself out of your mouth. “It’s just so g–ah fuck…”
Whimpering in protest, both of your hands slapped flat against his stomach and clawed down his body, immediately leaving red lines. Catching the head between your lips as he was pulling out, you sucked onto him hard, tasting all of the salty liquid begging to be swallowed.
“Fuck–okay! Okay!” he conceded, letting you take more of him into your mouth again. “It’s your cock. Do what you want.”
Hearing the words “your cock” delivered a spark of electricity to your soaked pussy. It clutched with desperate need around absolutely nothing. And that needed to be rectified. “I need you to fuck me, B.”
You loved seeing him like this; his wet hair pushed back, that perfectly pained expression across his brows, his panting, parted lips and the blush that spread down his neck and chest. Even the muscles along his stomach quivered.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, registering what you asked of him. “What? OH!”
Swirling your tongue over his tip, he gasped and gripped his cock tightly.
“Ah–shit!” he cursed, hearing the doorbell chiming inside.
You rose to your feet, pawing his heated chest as he uncomfortably shoved his cock into his shorts. You wanted to tell him to ignore it, and focus all of his attention on you. You needed his hands on your body, to live in that moment together like it’d last forever.
“Don’t…” you murmured, nuzzling along his jawline, swaying into his body. But he was already pushing his hair back and straightening his posture.
“Ah geez–I’ll uh–get rid of them,” he promised, catching the back of your neck to draw you in for a quick kiss before dashing off.
You loved the man he so rarely showed to anyone else outside that front door.
When he really turned it on, he could be the smoothest motherfucker in the room. It was incredible to witness firsthand. All of his impulsive energy vanished the moment he slipped into one of those perfectly tailored suit suits of his. You were fairly sure he gained a couple inches in height fixing his cufflinks in the mirror.
But when you and he were alone, in the house or by the pool, it felt like he could take a breath. His laughter rolled easily and he threw his whole body into it when he did. He’d pat his chest or stomp his feet as you giggled together over anything at all.
And he put his whole body into it when he wrapped an arm around you and cuddled you close, kissing your cheeks and neck as the easy laughter melted into a sigh. You loved the way he tucked you under his arm between himself and the couch. You could just be still together, best friends settling down together while the world spun too fast just outside the two of you. It made you feel like you were his favorite girl and only one in his entire world. You nuzzled into his neck and he thumbed over your shoulder where you’d drift to sleep listening to the soft hum of some tune he hadn’t written down yet.
Now wasn’t one of those times, however.
Although you didn’t catch what he was talking about to the person on his doorstep, you recognized his staccato cadence. He sounded frustrated. And trapped in the conversation, however brief it might be.
Blocking the way in through the door with his body, he kept you protected from the visitor’s view. So you took the opportunity to slip up behind him and take his hand from the door edge anchored above his head.
Momentarily distracted, he glanced over his shoulder. When you offered him a gentle smile, his fingers relaxed in your hands. He thumbed your cheek gently as your lips pressed inside, kissing his palm.
“That’s fine. You can pull your truck up to my back gate,” he answered the tech, sounding noticeably more calm. “No problem, man. Call me when you’re headed out.”
Ignoring your promise to “be good” just a moment previous when you were on your knees before him, you kissed inside his hand again, and then moved it down your throat. He rubbed his thumb along the side of your neck, showing he was right there with you, despite the presence on the opposite side of the door.
A wicked idea took your thoughts, watching his chest rise and fall. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat at his pulse point where you held his wrist. He was struggling to keep it together. And you wanted to push him.
Tilting your head, you lifted his thumb into your mouth and sucked deep, rolling your tongue over it. His breath caught and he cleared his throat, running his free hand through his hair.
Taking his thumb from your lips with a final lick, you used his whole hand to stroke down your sternum and cupped over your breast. Without any other intent of motion on your part, he thumbed over your nipple like a single cord on his guitar.
A gasp escaped from your parted lips as he kept talking, moving his warm hand over to the other breast, groping and massaging your heated flesh. When he caught your nipple between his knuckles and tugged on it, you whimpered aloud. To keep yourself quiet, you pressed your mouth to his shoulder.
His warm, clean scent, the heat radiating from his body, the taste of chlorine and salt on his skin occupied your senses. So you weren’t paying attention when the conversation ended. Hazy and half drugged on his taste and the need for more of him - all of him - made you move slowly, chasing after his touch when he closed the door and stroked your hair back, kissing over your cheeks and forehead.
There was a smile in his rasp, as he held your face in his hands and kissed over your lips with intention, pausing between kisses to speak low and close, drawing you even more out of yourself.
“You’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?” he praised, slipping a hand behind your back to release the pointless ties on your bikini top. He fisted the tiny bit of fabric and shoved it into the back pocket of his shorts. “There, that feels better, hmm?”
All you could do was moan helplessly, feeling his hand rubbing your back where the string had bitten into your skin. Just as you were about to shuffle into his chest and nuzzle into his neck, he swayed back with you. His hand protected your shoulder blades from hitting the door frame. And he pinned your hips with his, dropping his head to kiss your neck hungrily.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” he purred, flashing his dark eyes at you from under his fallen hair. “I need more of you. Fuck–”
Before you could say a word, he slipped down onto his knees, kissing down your stomach. Still tugging on the ties at your hips, you felt his mouth open and close between your legs, kissing you through the fabric.
You gasped, pushing both hands into his hair as he finally let the fabric fall, and opened his mouth again, this time pressing his lips to your skin. His eyes slipped shut in ecstasy as he slipped you his tongue, tasting you over and over.
Scooping a hand behind your thigh, he lifted your knee up over his shoulder so he could open you wider. “Shh, honey, I got you,” he soothed, hearing the huff of breath pass over your lips. He reached up and let you hold onto his hands, wrapped around your hips to keep you steady.
He dived in again, kissing at first, tasting every drop of you, until his nose nuzzled against your clit, making your nails press into his hands. Your gasp made his cock twitch so hard in his shorts, he had to reach down to untie them and let the head slide up from the top of the fabric.
Teasing the tip of his tongue into you, he nuzzled you again, and your hips jerked forward. He swallowed hard, slippery liquid covering his face as he watched you carefully. Although he wanted desperately to stroke his cock, watching his gorgeous girl writhing on his tongue, looking down at him so desperate and blissed out, he didn’t dare change pace.
“What… do you… want… beautiful?” he asked between licks.
“F-fuck… fingers…” you panted, holding his hand and grabbing onto his hair. “So… close.”
“Hmm I know you are,” he purred, slipping his middle finger along your pussy, gently entering where his tongue had been teasing.
“Fuck, B… more… I need two finger– ah Brendon, yes. Faster. Fuck–-”
Although you were partly mumbling, tossing your head back, desperately rocking yourself into his two long fingers, he understood completely what you were asking for. His long tongue swirled over your clit as he fingered you fast and deep, drawing a cry from you.
“Br– fuck I’m gonna– I’m…”
“That’s it, gorgeous,” he encouraged. “So fucking good for me. Come on my fingers. Come in my mouth.”
Flicking your swollen clit with his strong tongue, he pumped your pussy with his fingers, curling them at the last moment as you swore and clawed at him.
Your body trembled as it released such an intense orgasm, he pressed his forearm to your stomach to keep you from squirming too much as he licked and kissed you through the last tremors.
When he lifted onto his feet again, his arms draped low around your back as you melted into him, catching your shaky breath. A sudden soft giggle from you surprised him.
“You okay, honey?” he asked, arching a brow.
Your head lifted, smiling up at him, as you drape an arm lazily behind his neck. “You’re so goddamn hot. Fuck, B.”
The concern faded from his brow and he chuckled, catching your lips with his. “You’re so hot, babe,” he corrected, nuzzling you gently. “And I want you so fucking bad.”
You cooed, reaching down between you without looking. He gasped when your hand closed over his head and started pumping him slowly in your fist. The smile fled his face and lips slackened as you felt the heat throbbing in your hand. It was obvious he was well overdue to be touched like this.
“What d’you want?” he rasped, touching his forehead to yours.
“Earlier I said I wanted your cock,” you reminded him, sliding your hand into his shorts to stroke all of him. “I need it, B.”
His swollen lips, pressed to yours, kissed you with a deep inhale. “You sure? Not too soon after–”
Kitten licking your taste from his lips quieted his concern. “Fuck me, Brendon.”
Dipping low, his hands slid behind your thighs, under your ass, and he stepped into you, lifting and spreading your thighs over his hips. Pinned between him and the door, you hugged onto his neck as he rolled his hips, nudging his cock blindly against your slick pussy. Feeling his heartbeat against your thighs, along your pussy, pushing up against your ass, made you gasp and whimper.
Once you reached down to help, and felt the tip pressing into you, his mouth found your neck and he began to pant against your flushed skin. It was clear he was trying to wait, inching in desperately slowly, to give you time to get used to his thick cock. The muscle along his shoulder and down his arm ticked and twitched, as he held you and waited.
Wanting to take all of him, you squirmed and arched as every inch of him stretched your insides. “Ah… feels so full. So good…” you panted, rocking your body as you slid the rest of the way down onto him.
He groaned in agreement, pressing his teeth against your neck. Rocking his hips, he withdrew himself part way and slipped back in, testing your grip on his throbbing cock.
“Shit,” he cursed, lifting his head. A concentrated bead of sweat rolled down his temple to the hollow of his neck. “You feel so good, babe.”
Locking your ankles around his ass, you squeezed his hip bones with your thighs. You could feel the wetness slipping from you onto him and it made a lewd, slick sound every time he grunted and bounced you.
What started as a gentle rocking, quickly became fast and hard pounding. His hips rolled into you until the head of his cock rubbed into that perfect spot in you that made you cry out every time he hit it. Once he heard the sound, his mouth found your neck and his hips snapped quickly, to keep that sound coming from your lips.
“B… I’m gonna…” you gasped, as he took one of your bouncing breasts into his mouth. The orgasm slammed into your whole body, making you curse and tug at his hair as the shockwaves rolled through your core.
Dragging your nails up his back, he slipped himself from you and set you back onto your feet. His cock slapped against his stomach, and pulsed between you. Cradling the back of your head in his spread fingers, he kissed your mouth, slow and lazy.
Hazy and completely in love, you gazed up at him and pawed his red chest. His raspy chuckle warmed your insides - until he tied his shorts again and reached for his t-shirt.
“No, what are you – B? Are you… You leaving me?” You mumbled, folding your arms across yourself, suddenly feeling very naked.
His brows lifted in the center, hearing your brokenhearted line of questioning. “No, no never, honey,” he crooned gently, caressing your cheeks. “My phone buzzed while we– The contractor outside probably has a question.”
“Oh.” You sighed, watching him slide into shoes next to the door.
You hadn’t been together long enough to know if you played sub and dom games together. But if you had, then the sub drop was hitting hard and he saw it in your confused expression.
Stroking your arms, he arched his brow and asked gently, “You wanna go have a shower for me while I take care of business?”
When you nodded, he smiled and kissed your fingers. “Good girl. I’ll be right there, honey.”
“B…”
***
You waited in the shower 20 minutes, letting the water run down your cooling body, but he never came in to join you. It wasn’t until you wrapped a towel around yourself and disappeared into his closet that you heard the bathroom door shut.
You knocked twice, but the shower ran loud and he sang something you didn’t recognize above the sound. Almost as fast as he disappeared, he reappeared in the bathroom doorway, fisting the towel low around his hips. Dripping on the carpet, he was in such a rush, he hadn’t bothered drying off yet. His tense expression lifted, seeing you perched by the bed.
“Hey! I’ve got some people coming over in about 10. You wanna join us for drinks out on the patio?” Rubbing the water from his eyes, he came close enough to squeeze your hip and kiss your neck, before making a bee line for his dresser.
You reached for his hand but just missed it as he slipped away. “I didn’t realize you were working today.” It was hard to hide the sulk in your tone. “I thought we could be together tonight.”
Dropping his towel in a puddle at his feet, he bent to slide on his black boxer briefs. “I know, babe. I’m sorry,” he apologized as he tucked his bobbing cock in. “It’s sort of an impromptu thing–just some of the guys on the production team.”
When he glanced up, past the hair fallen in his eyes, he noticed you standing stiffly, clutching the hem of your towel in both fists. Slipping his arms into a black button down shirt, he crossed to you and kissed your pout. “Come on, baby. We’ll still be together.”
He curled his fingers around your hips and rubbed his thumbs into your hip bones. Bending his knees to draw your attention upward, your gaze didn’t meet his. You were too focused on the blush across his upper chest.
Instinctively, your fingertips trailed up his stomach and chest, up over his shoulders inside his open shirt. Feeling the heat of his skin under your palms wasn’t enough. So your lips pressed to his chest, leaving a burning trail of kisses up his throat and neck. His head tilted, allowing you access to the spot behind his ear that made him shudder whenever you kissed there. He groaned and gripped your hips tightly when you licked a drip that trailed down his neck past the collar of his shirt.
“Honey, we need to get ready…” His throat suddenly dry made his voice husky and low. Despite his warning, his head dropped and he kissed your shoulder.
When your arms looped around his neck, the towel tucked under them released and pooled around your hips where he held you still. “B… I am ready,” you breathed, feeling his chest radiating heat against your bare breasts.
He cursed under his breath, letting go of your hips so the towel dropped onto the floor. Brushing his parted lips to yours, he stroked your arms looped behind his neck, and down your sides. Your mouth closed over his swollen lips and he thumbed under your breasts, pressing his fingertips into your sides. You moaned into his mouth when both thumbs circled your hardening nipples.
Dipping down, he caught behind your knees and lifted you onto his hips just long enough to move the couple steps to the bed. Planting a palm on the mattress, he eased you back onto the bed with his arm looped behind the small of your back. When he stepped back, you started to sit up on your elbows, but paused like prey recognizing the black in his eyes.
Peeling the button down from his shoulders, he dropped it and pressed your thighs further apart with one of his knees. “Fuck you are so ready,” he groaned, pulling down his briefs in one smooth motion as he shouldered both your thighs, spreading you wide to bury his face into your soaking cunt.
“Geez–shit–Brendon!” you gasped and arched off the bed, but he gripped you tightly to keep from squirming. He left handprints over the top of your thighs from how tightly he held you in place as he gorged himself on you. The flick of his tongue against your clit and how he slipped the tip into you before flexing his tongue, spreading your aching pussy over and over almost felt like too much. Almost.
Your whole body trembled when he pressed your thighs open wide, holding you down with the strength of his forearms. Helplessly letting your arms fall over your head, you clawed onto the sheets and hissed through your teeth.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he purred, wrapping his hands around your waist, dragging you further down the bed. Your brain went fuzzy focusing on his tongue plunging in and out until you absolutely couldn’t take any more.
Your toes curled and legs tried to close, but he’d adjusted to cradle your hips in his arms, his biceps resting under your ass so he could curl his arms up and over your thighs. Both his strong hands slid down your pubic bone, holding you open with his thumbs while he flicked his tongue over your clit with such precision, you arched in his arms and shrieked his name.
Sitting up, he climbed onto the bed between your legs. On his knees, he spread and lifted your knees, resting them over his thighs. “My gorgeous girl. So fucking pretty. Look at you.”
He chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow and licked his swollen lips. He loved seeing you like this: completely overtaken with lust, panting and pupils dilated, body just past the edge of ruin trembling before him. Running a finger down your heaving chest to your belly, he finally caught your gaze through hooded eyes.
Reaching for him with a shaky hand, he leaned over and palmed the mattress next to your head. He smiled wolfishly, as you panted, pawing at his chest and up his sides. Taking the cue from your legs spreading wider under him on the bed, he ventured to speak for you. “More? Honey, you can’t even speak. How about you rest while I finish getting ready?”
But you whimpered in protest and lifted yourself up onto your elbows. “Brendon,” you sighed, swallowing hard, trying to collect your thoughts. When eloquence didn’t arrive, you sighed again and resigned to speaking your mind instead.
“Brendon.”
“Yes, baby.” Flashing his bright smile, he settled back onto his knees between your legs again.There was something so pure about these moments when pretense melted away.
“Brendon. Are you going to make me beg?”
“Hm, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Yes, you do!” You groaned and fell back on the bed, throwing your arm over your eyes. He snickered and smoothed his hands from your hips, up your ribs and thumbed the curve under both breasts. You sighed, letting your arm drop on the crumpled sheets above your head.
Leaning over, he nuzzled your nose with his. His fingers slid between yours. It made the breath catch in your throat when his voice dropped, low and sultry, speaking like you were in a crowded room and he had a secret to tell. “I need to hear you say it..”
The look in his dark eyes, the sound of his sudden baritone, and the squeeze of his fingers between yours made your whole body shudder with pleasure. As frustrating as it could be when he refused to take the lead, especially when you were desperate to be manhandled, you appreciated his constant pressure on consent.
“I need you to fuck me,” you told him simply, after a pause, adding a polite, “please.”
He searched your expression for a moment, staying completely motionless hovering over you. Then as if a switch flipped, his lips grazed yours, and a hand slipped behind your knee, drawing you apart further as his body eased down onto yours.
“Fuck, I need you,” he breathed into your mouth, still watching your expression as your nails dragged down his back. The slippery head of his rigid cock slid up and down your lips. When he found you start to give way, he shuddered and pressed his hips down and forward, spreading your weeping cunt around his twitching cock.
Continuing to push in, with your silky walls gripping onto him with every inch, he didn’t pause until he bottomed out and felt your clit pulsing against the base of himself. When he released your knee from the crook of his arm, you spread wide on your own and moaned about feeling so full.
His stomach twitched and his head dropped into your shoulder. Squeezing onto one of your hands, he slipped his other forearm under the small of your back to help you move under him. When your hips lifted over his arm, you hissed and clawed him sharply. He didn’t even need to move inside you for his cock to press right into your already lifted cervix.
“You okay?” he whispered, feeling himself hit deep inside you.
“Mm, it’s good.” You swallowed hard, feeling the lines you left along his back. “Sorry.”
“S’okay,” he gave a breathy chuckle. Drawing his hips back, he pulled out nearly the whole length, and then slid back in, pressing this time not quite into your cervix. You moaned, feeling the head of his cock dragging along your insides. That was the exact sound he listened for.
Rutting turned to thrusting, then pounding. He grunted from the effort, trying desperately not to come too quickly. But the slick sound of his cock slipping in and out made your stomach tense and cunt pulse.
“Shit–” he gasped, tossing his head back. His cock twitched, once, twice, and he glanced down at you with sweaty hair plastered to his temples, mess across his forehead. You reached up and stroked the hair from his eyes and he swallowed hard. You could tell he was on the edge, the way his body shook and mouth hung upen as he panted. The blush spread across his chest, up his neck to his cheeks.
“Fingers,” you mewed, watching him lick two long digets despite the slippery mess already between your thighs. His hand slipped down between you and slid up and down the hood of your swollen clit, causing your whole body to jerk under him.
“You like that, babe?” He groaned feeling you tightening up on him as you writhed under him.
“So good–don’t stop! Fuck. F–fuck!” He began working his cock again, thrusting and watching your expression as he furiously rubbed your clit. The lewd slapping sound filled the room almost as loud as your whining for more cock. “I’m gonna… Fuck me. I’m gonna come…”
Feeling your pussy clamp down on him like a vice, he took his hand from your pussy and nudged your clit with the base of his cock, pushing you right over the edge. You wailed his name, and shuddered all over as he chased his. Barely able to move, only between sharp contractions, he panted and thrust into you, burying his nose in your shoulder.
Then he tossed his head back again and froze, only his cock pulsed into you with such a hard heartbeat, it made you gasp. The warmth spread in your belly and he dropped down onto you, barely able to move, except his fingers caressing the top of your damp hair.
As expected, the doorbell chimed but the mood had changed entirely in the room.
“Guess I better go get that, hm?” His lazy kiss ended with a sigh as he rolled over onto his side and caressed your cheek. Lost for words, you nodded and lifted to catch one last kiss as he got up to dress again. “Take your time, honey. I’ll see you out there whenever you’re ready.”
***
“Alright, tough guy! Brendon, you’re up.”
Laughter echoed through the house from the open patio door. The sun had long since gone down, and everyone sat under the warm glow of glass globes strung overhead, either on benches near the purple gaslit fire or in chairs in a semi-circle facing the pool.
You hadn’t meant to sleep so long; you hadn’t meant to sleep at all. But turning over in his bed, nuzzling into the pillow that still smelled of his cologne and shampoo made you drowsy. So when you woke naked, you jumped up quickly and dashed to the bathroom to fix your hair and find something to wear from your overnight bag.
Padding out in bare feet, the navy blue print tie-strap mini dress swung against your bare thighs. With just a quick swipe of mascara and your hair half thrown back, you stepped out into the warm night air and found Brendon with an old-fashioned in one hand and a cornhole beanbag in the other. He whooped after his toss and pumped his fist in the air, taking a long sip from his ice-filled glass.
With his arm lifted, you took the opportunity to duck into his side and wrap your arms around his waist. He sputtered, swallowing his drink and slipped his arm around you. He smiled broadly, squeezing around your shoulder, drawing you in closer as if that was even possible. “Hey babe! I wasn’t sure you were going to join us.”
You leaned in and whispered into his collar about falling asleep. “Sorry, didn’t mean to,” you blushed, glancing around at the nine others otherwise engaged in conversations or playing the cornhole game in the near-dark yard.
He thumbed your strap and chuckled, pressing his lips to your temple. “It’s alright. I know you need those sleeps. Should call you ‘Kitten’ since you’re part cat, hm? My sleepy kitty cat.”
Flashing a sideways glance, you feigned annoyance at his teasing. Pushing his bottom lip out, he pouted and dug his fingers into your waist, drawing you close. “I’m sorry, Kitten. I need another drink. You want to go inside and get a saucer of milk with me?”
You broke and giggled at his curled hand drawn up to his chest that he pretended to lick and rub over an invisible cat ear. “I could do with a drink. Probably not milk. Doesn’t mix well…”
Catching his outstretched hand, you backed up to the open doorway, dragging him with you. His slightly glazed over eyes and reddened cheeks indicated he had more than one saucer to drink tonight himself. “What are we having, B?” you asked, moving to the far side of the kitchen island, opposite the glass patio doors where all of the liquor had been relocated from the bar.
“I’m having another of the same,” he said, dropping fresh ice into his glass before reaching for the bourbon. From across the island, he motioned to you with his nose. “What can I make you, babe?”
Groping through the fruit bowl, you pulled a mango from the pile. “Daiquiri?”
“‘Course,” he nodded, taking a sip of his fresh drink. Coming around the island next to you, he took the pink and green fruit from your hand and set it on the board to begin slicing.
Swinging around the kitchen, you opened and closed cabinet doors in search of the blender. “It’s up top, babe,” he instructed, pointing with the knife before reaching for his glasses with a clean hand.
When you returned with the appliance, a silent smirk lifted the corner of his lips as he sliced the orange fruit into cubes.
“What?” You probed, looking for an electrical outlet. Without looking up, he pointed around the side of the makeshift bar before returning to his work.
“Nothing.” The smile in his eyes as he pushed his black rimmed glasses up with the back of his wrist indicated otherwise.
“What?” You pressed, returning to his side as he dropped the soft fruit into the blender. He shrugged, holding the lid down with his palm and flipped on the switch, openly grinning.
Ducking under his extended arms, you forced him to look at you. He giggled and flipped off the switch. Working around you, he reached for a glass. With a huff, you turned away, facing the countertop to watch him finish putting your drink together.
Once he dropped a straw into the bright orange drink and handed it to you for a taste test, he wrapped his arms around your hips and put his head over your shoulder.
You sipped, cooed, and sipped again, letting him rock you gently back and forth. He warm lips pressed to your neck, letting you settle back into him further with a content sigh.
Sweeping your hair over one shoulder, he nuzzled your neck and kissed behind your ear. “No panties tonight, baby?”
A matching smirk spread over your lips and he nibbles at your neck playfully. Dropping your head back against his shoulder, your free hand pushed through his hair.
He smoothed a palm down your belly, lifting the soft fabric just enough to slip his hand underneath between your thighs. A gasp filled your lungs as he rubbed you gently.
“Shh, shh,” he hushed, slipping his middle finger through your slick folds. “I wanna make you come with everybody right there.”
Another burst of laughter erupted from the open doorway. Anyone could look in and see your intimate embrace. But you were too lost in his body curled around yours and the dexterity of the fingers rubbing your clit with the dexterity of a guitarist with a mezzo-piano touch.
It took just a minute for him to play your body into a shuddering crescendo. He caught your moan with his mouth, kissing you through it.
“That’s my girl,” he grinned as you melted hazily, letting him take the weight from your weak knees.
Smoothing down your dress, he showed you his dripping fingertips. Without a second thought, your tongue darted out and licked his fingers, which he then held for you to suckle onto.
“Fuck.” He groaned into your shoulder, pressing into your ass so you could feel the massive erection throbbing.
Silently, you lifted onto your tiptoes and leaned forward over the counter, reaching back to feel the cock straining against the front of his black jeans. A quick glance over your shoulder was met by his lust blown gaze. The smile fled from his expression entirely.
You caught his zipper but he caught your hand and arched a brow.
A couple of the ladies headed to the bathroom to change into swimsuits. He pointed and cleared his throat. “Down the hall, to the left.”
Because you had no idea who was about to walk through next, he leaned over and pressed his ear to your lips.”
“Fuck me, B.”
Your demand was met with zero resistance. Unzipping himself under your skirt, he freed his cock with a relieved sigh and pressed it down between your cheeks.
His hips jerked when you reached down and helped guide him into your opening. Muffling his groan against your shoulder, he gripped your hips tightly and angled you both so he could push his thick cock in all at once. Feeling it dragging against your insides in this new position made you moan and grip the edge of the countertop.
Both girls now in their bikinis waved to him and pointed to the towels they took from the bathroom. He waved them on, indicating it was fine before they diseappeard back out the door.
He throbbed buried deep inside you, but spoke so calmly. You had no idea how he stayed so cool. Barely able to keep yourself together, you opted to keep your mouth occupied by sipping on your drink.
The moment they were gone, he drew back and thrust into you, hitting that perfect spot. He caught your howl with his hand wrapped over your mouth.
Gripping onto your shoulder and hip, he drew you back onto his cock over and over. Fortunately, Dillon had turned up the music on the newly updated sound system outside, so the slapping of your ass against him was drowned out.
Your head dropped as he plowed into you, grunting and thrusting to fill you before someone else walked in.
“Fuck… B…” you breathed, struggling to keep your forearms pressed to the cool countertop.
Arching over you, he whispered in a low rasp, “That’s it. Come all over my cock.”
He tugged at your hips, straightening up again and you closed your mouth over the back of your hand to keep from screaming as he rubbed, with short, quick thrusts right into the swollen spot that made you squirm and come sharply closing down on him.
His head dropped back, mouth open in a silent moan, hips slamming into you the final few thrusts stolen by your pussy milking the orgasm right out of his cock. He froze, pressing your hip bones hard into the edge of the counter as he gave you every last drop of everything he had.
Lifting your head and tossing back your hair, you were the one to freeze this time. Hazy eyed and panting, he glanced down at the slick mess between you as he withdrew himself carefully, aware how sensitive you always were right after.
Just as he tucked himself into his shorts again, in fact, mid-tuck he glanced up and froze like you had been.
Dillon was leaning into the doorway, thumbing over his shoulder.
“Think I kept ‘em all occupado while you guys partied. But you’re up next on karaoke, B. I can’t keep ‘em from requesting your power ballads, dude.”
