Filed To Story: Craving The Wrong Brother Book PDF Free by Elysian Sparrow
“I love you,” I say again. “And if you ever ask me that question again, if you ever doubt it for a second, I swear I’ll-“
His lips crash down on mine before I can finish the sentence.
I’m off the ground the next second. Those large hands of Knox’s are beneath my thighs as he lifts me up. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his valet, and my arms cling to him as tightly as my mouth does.
He moves us across the living room with urgent steps, heading for the stairs. I hear the soft thud of his boots on each step, the creak of the banister as we pass, and the faint sound of our breaths mingling.
When we reach the bedroom, he kicks the door open.
He walks to the side of the bed and sets me down. My head finds the pillow behind me, and I keep my arms wrapped around his neck, refusing to let go. He doesn’t try to pull away. But before climbing on, he bends to tug off his shoes, one after the other, letting them thud against the floor. Then he joins me. He hovers over my head, looking down at me with eyes that still burn with a need I can feel pulsing off his skin.
“Say it again,” he whispers. “Tell me how much you love me.”
I open my mouth. “1-“
But he leans in and kisses the tip of my nose, silencing me.
“Go on,” he urges…
Except it’s hard to concentrate when he’s kissing my entire face. His lips leave warmth blooming everywhere-on my nose, my cheeks, my forehead. I feel dazed. My heartbeat is no longer mine; it follows his rhythm now. My brain, too, is betraying me, choosing sensation over sense, drowning in the feel of him.
While he’s kissing my chin, I manage to breathe out, “My love for you is the same as my love for… imported peanut butter.”
“Hmm. The love’s not sounding all that strong right now.”
I chuckle, unable to help it. “Alright,” I concede, grinning up at him. “More than any of my book aliens.”
“Really? I find that hard to believe.”
“Cross my heart.”
“Your tiny heart?”
“It’s big enough to contain you.”
His hands trail gently down my sides. I feel the path of his fingers like electric shocks. When they reach the hem of my shirt, he starts to lift it, eyes never leaving mine. Inch by inch, cool air kisses my skin until the fabric is pushed up and his mouth finds the place just over my heart. He kisses there once. Then again. It makes my throat tighten.
I know what this is.
He’s still carrying whatever happened at Finn’s house. He hasn’t told me any of it, not yet, and I don’t ask. Not because I’m not dying to know, but because I know him. This, what he’s doing now, is how he breathes through it. How he holds the pieces of himself in place. So I let him. I let him kiss me Nike I’m the only thing keeping him tethered. Because maybe right now, I am.
His mouth drifts lower, tracing the dip between my ribs until he reaches the soft curve of my stomach. He presses his lips just below my navel, and I laugh, fingers slipping into his hair as I tug him away.
“Stop now,” I say, still laughing. “I know where this is headed. Any area below my waist is out of service.”
He lifts his head just enough to look at me, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’m not afraid of a little blood. I want you all over my face.”
“Eww,” I say.
“No way.”
He crawls back up to meet me. “You’re not being nice. In fact, I have a nine-month solution to the bleeding problem.
I narrow my eyes at him. “What would you even want a kid for?”
“Having two yous around wouldn’t be so bad.”
And that’s when it hits me-this isn’t the first time he’s mentioned kids. As I pull him back into a kiss to shut off the conversation, my thoughts drift Would I even know how to be a parent? What if I messed it up the way our parents messed us up? What if the kid turned out too much like him of to much like me? Or worse-like both of us?
Why am I even thinking about this now?
Maybe all these thoughts are entering my head because I’m underneath him, chest pressed to chest, heartbeats crashing, and he’s somehow pouring them into me. Like his body is a funnel, and I’m catching every drop. That’s what it feels like.
It’s overwhelming.
I pull away from the kiss to catch my breath and take the lead for a second. I shift my hips, moving in a way he understands means I want him on his back I want to look down at him, to take control of my senses for a little while.
He doesn’t hesitate. He lets go of me, rolls to his back in one fluid motion, and reaches for my waist to help me climb on top of him.
I straddle him like I’ve done a dozen times before, but somehow, this still feels new. The way his eyes track my every move. The reverence in them. It sends heat waves through me. Fully seated on him now, I take a second to breathe with my palms resting on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my fingers.
His hands move to my waist again, thumbs brushing slow circles just above my hips. I can tell he’s content like this. Letting me take the lead. Letting me explore. And God, he’s so beautiful like this. Laid out, quiet, eyes dark and dilated with want.
I reach for my shirt, lifting it over my head. The fabric whispers across my skin before I toss it aside.
Next, I’m pulling him up by his jacket and assisting in removing the said jacket along with his shirt. Now there’s nothing between us but heat and skin.
He cups my breasts with both hands, thumbs moving slowly over them, tracing the curve and weight.
“They’re slightly bigger,” he says, eyes darting between them and my face.
“Happens. Hormones.”
“You have a beautiful body, Sloane.”
I smile. “You’re just trying to get into my pants, aren’t you?”
“With the truth, yeah.”
“You’re shameless.”
“I need you.” pite my bottom lip, suddenly hyper-aware of the way his eyes fall to that lip. There’s hunger in them now. A different kind. Like just looking at me is setting something off inside him.
And that’s dangerous. Because even though my body’s ready to melt into his, I’m also aware of the tampon I’m wearing. Of how this is li possible time to be turned on. Yet here I am, feeling the wet pulse of arousal despite myself. And his hard length beneath me is not helpi
He reads it on my face. Of course he does.
Without a word, he shifts. A slow, grinding roll of his hips that presses him right where I’m most sensitive.
My breath escapes in a moan. My lips fall open. My hands clutch at his shoulders. I can’t even pretend I don’t feel it anymore
He comes up, one hand gripping my waist tightly, the other bracing behind him as his face finds the crook of my neck. He whispats into my dar
“You know you want it.”
Another grind. Another helpless noise from my throat.
“Knox-“I manage to say, though I don’t really know what I’m asking for.
“I know, baby. Take off the shorts. What you want is right here. I’ll give it to you.”
My hands are already moving, fumbling at the button with more urgency than coordination. Screw my stance on period sex. My fingers shake from nerves, from the sheer intensity of wanting him, needing him close.
The damn shorts aren’t coming off as quickly as I’d like. I rise onto my feet and drag them down, sliding each out of my legs and tossing them aside. The cotton hits the floor in a soft thump. Then I’m back over him, knees bracketing his hips, and my hands are already at his belt.
Knox watches me the whole time.
I slide the belt out in one quick pull and toss it aside, going for the zipper. When I finally reach in and wrap my hand around him, he jerks, hips twitching. into my palm.
His dick springs free, hard and ready, and as I hold it in my fist, he reaches up and pushes my bangs off my face.
“You look hungry,” he says.
I can’t pretend. “I am.”
“Food’s right here. All you gotta do is put it in your mouth.”
Those words are like a floodgate, releasing the pent-up need I’ve been holding back. I adjust myself, positioning my body so I can take him in my mouth. start at the base and lick a slow line up his shaft, circling the piercing at the tip with my tongue. I can taste the slight metallic tang of his precum, and it only spurs me on.
“Fuck,” he groans, his hands gripping my hair, holding me in place.
I take one of his balls into my mouth, rolling it gently with my tongue while I massage the other with my hand. His grunt of approval is music to my ears. Raising my head, I fit as much of his dick as I can into my mouth until he’s hitting the back of my throat. I hold him there for a moment, my eyes watering, before pulling back.
“Look at me,” he says. “Look at me when you do that.”
I meet his gaze, my eyes never leaving his as I take him in my mouth again, my head bobbing up and down.