Filed To Story: Craving The Wrong Brother Book PDF Free by Elysian Sparrow
“Oh, that’s it. You’re doing so good.”
I pick up the pace. I can feel him hitting the back of my throat with each thrust, and I relax, taking him deeper, my nose touching his pelvis.
“Shit, Sloane,” he hisses.
His body coils tight. I want to push him over the edge. But he suddenly pulls my head away, eyes wild.
He lifts me back to my previous position on his lap, keeping my knees on either side of his hips. Reaching between my legs, his fingers find the string of my tampon. He pulls. I don’t have time to see what he does with it because his mouth is on mine, kissing me deeply, his tongue exploring, claiming.
He holds me up with one strong arm wrapped around my waist, the other hand positioning himself at my entrance. I can feel the tip of his dick pressing against me. He then drops me down onto his length, impaling me.
J scream, my head falling back and body adjusting to the sudden intrusion. He’s so deep, so thick.
“Knox…” I say, digging my fingers into his shoulders. “Don’t stop. Take me.”
He obliges, his hips snapping up to meet mine. Every inch of him hits all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. The room fills with the sound of our bodies slapping together, the wet, messy sound of his cock driving into me. I can feel the warmth of my blood coating his skin, making it slippery. And it would be weird if only I was thinking beyond how good he feels inside me.
“Oh my god, Knox,” I say, needing more.
I ride him harder, my body moving of its own accord, chasing the pleasure that’s building inside me. I’m a moaning mess, my breath coming in short gasps.
He leans down, his teeth finding my nipple, biting gently, and I can only hold his hair to contain my pleasure.
“Knox,” I gasp. “I’m close. So close.”
When he pulls back, his eyes are wild. “Come for me, sweet girl. Make a mess on me.”
His words send me over the edge. body convulses, my inner muscles clenching around him. Wave after wave of pleasure consumes me, my orgasm as I try to run from the intensity of it. His own body is ready to snap. With a final, powerful thrust
He holds me tight, still moving, drawing, he comes undone, filling me up. He throws his head back, a guttural roar escaping his lips.
Our bodies stay locked together at Sankly, I don’t think I can move, I feel him still pulsing inside me.
He looks at me, eyes soft, a lazy grin tilti
I smack his chest without much strength” “hers of his mouth. “Sure you didn’t bleed out your e disgusting.” entire body supply?”
He laughs, not even trying to dodge the hit. His hands settle on my hips, thumbs stroking lazily over my skin. I attempt to shift off him, now self- conscious of the mess I made, but he refuses to
“No,” he says. “Stay.”
Co
“What?”
“I want to fall asleep like this.”
“I can’t free bleed all night on you.”
“Who says you can’t?”
“You’re insane. Let me go.”
“Nope. Stay put.”
His voice is so casual, but there’s something underneath it. A softness that I feel more than hear. And when he tugs me gently down to lie flat against him, I go. No resistance. My head finds the crook of his shoulder, and his arms come around me like muscle memory.
Then, quietly, he starts to hum.
That song again. The Russian lullaby from the other night. We lie there like that for what feels like hours. Or maybe it’s just minutes. Time’s slippery when you’re a bundle of tangled limbs and sweat and quiet heartbeats.
Eventually, I fall asleep.
And I stay that way. All night. Draped over him, legs tangled with his, one of his hands resting low on my back. Every time I stir, that hand’s still there making sure I wouldn’t drift away.
When the buzz starts, I think I’m dreaming.
But it doesn’t stop.
My eyes crack open slowly. The room’s still dim, so know it isn’t dawn yet. The buzzing continues.
Knox groans beneath me, and his hand shoots out toward the nightstand, fumbling.
“Turn it off,” I mumble into his chest. “It’s not even daylight yet.”
He drags the phone into view and squints at the screen.
“Bastard finally came to his senses,” he mutters.
“Who?”
“Your boss.”
Still half-asleep, I blink up at him. “Hunter?”
“Yeah.”
He taps the screen and answers it, switching to speaker.
“Save any gloating word that’s about to come out of your mouth, Knox,” Hunter says in greeting, “We need to talk.”
“Hello to you too, Hunt. Pretty shitty timing for a reunion, don’t you think? It’s not even six yet.”
“Well, I kidnapped your ex-wife last night, and I don’t know what to do with her,” Hunter says. “She’s all tied up here and barking my ears off. I had to put duct tape over her mouth. That woman’s up to no good. The sooner you come get her, the better.”
Knox sits up fast, dragging me with him.
“Come again?”
1
~~KNOX~~
My plans for the day certainly didn’t involve rescuing Soraya from a kidnapper who also happens to be my friend.
But here I am-behind the wheel, staring through the windshield at Hunter’s fancy-ass townhouse. The driveway is as manicured as the man himself. As I kill the engine, I take a moment to breathe.
I don’t want to be here. Not after last night. Not after dealing with my family’s mess. I had planned to spend most of the day sweating it all out on the machines in my home gym. Now Soraya’s caught in some kind of craziness, and Hunter, of all people, decides this is the week to start committing felonies in my name.
He doesn’t call for weeks, then reappears with an announcement that he’s kidnapped my ex-wife.
I step out of the car and shut the door with more force than necessary. The cool morning air does nothing to soothe me. I head up the stone path to the house and press the bell.
A moment later, the door swings open. It’s one of Hunter’s rotating household staff. He always says names are interchangeable, like furniture. Today’s version is a lean woman in her mid-thirties wearing a black turtleneck and matte lipstick. She offers a clipped nod.
“Good morning.”
I nod back. “Hunter’s expecting me.”
She knows that, of course. So she steps aside, and I walk in.
I find him in the living room. He’s sprawled on the couch, legs crossed at the ankle with his shoes on the damn couch. A tablet rests in his hand, and he’s scrolling.
“You know,” I say, “normal people would just call and say, ‘Let’s make up.””
My voice carries easily in the space, but he doesn’t look up. I walk toward him, each step echoing.
“First you threaten my girlfriend with a promotion,” I continue. “You should really work on your threats, by the way. Too unserious for a man of your status.”
Hunter finally lifts his head. That smug little smile he always wears when he knows he’s being an ass is already in place.
“And then you call me before sunrise to say you kidnapped Soraya?” I stop in front of him. “What are you going to do next? Send my brother gift vouchers in my name?”
“Don’t give me ideas,” he says, and taps something on the screen before setting the tablet aside.
I shake my head, but I sit anyway, dropping onto the couch beside his legs.