Brent didn’t rush. He stayed with me, his mouth teasing and exploring until the tension in my body shattered completely. A strangled cry escaped me, my hands gripping his hair as waves of pleasure coursed through me, leaving me trembling and breathless.
He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh before standing, his hands trailing up my body as if he couldn’t bear to lose contact. When his lips found mine again, I tasted salt and heat, and it made my head spin.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough, his thumb brushing my cheek.
I nodded, still catching my breath. “Yeah.”
His gaze softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”
***
He guided me backward until my knees hit the edge of the bed, and I sank down onto the mattress. Brent followed, his body warm and solid as he knelt between my legs. His hands skimmed my sides, his touch light but deliberate, before cupping my breasts.
I gasped as his thumbs brushed over my nipples, sending another jolt of heat through me.
“Brent,” I murmured, my voice trembling.
He didn’t reply—at least, not with words. Instead, he leaned down, his mouth closing over one peak, his tongue teasing in a way that made me arch into him. His hands roamed, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin as if he wanted to memorize every inch of me.
“You’re amazing,” he said against my skin, his breath hot. “Every inch of you, Bethany.”
My heart stuttered at the sincerity in his voice, but before I could respond, he shifted, his lips brushing along the curve of my neck, down to my collarbone, and lower still.
When he leaned back, his eyes locked with mine, his gaze dark and steady.
“Turn around,” he said, his voice rough, the words sending a shiver racing through me.
I hesitated for half a second, but the way he looked at me—so sure, so full of intent—erased any doubt. I turned, my pulse pounding as I leaned forward, my hands pressing into the mattress.
Brent’s hands found my hips, his grip firm but gentle as he guided me into position. He pressed a kiss to the small of my back, the sensation both tender and electrifying, before trailing his lips along my spine.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice full of reverence.
When he entered me, it was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment. My breath hitched, my body arching as he filled me completely.
“Betty,” he groaned, his voice thick with restraint. “You feel so good.”
The rhythm he set was unhurried at first, each movement sending sparks shooting through me. His hands slid up my sides, then forward, cupping my breasts as he pressed kisses to the back of my neck.
“You okay?” he asked again, his lips brushing against my ear.
“More,” I whispered, my voice shaky but certain.
The pace quickened, the pleasure building with every thrust until I was gripping the sheets, unable to hold back the sounds spilling from my lips.
“Brent,” I gasped, turning my head to look at him. “I want more.”
He smiled, a mix of smugness and adoration, before leaning down to kiss me again. The angle shifted, and I cried out, my body tightening around him as the sensation became almost too much.
“I can do this all night with you,” he murmured, his voice tight. “Do you know that?”
I couldn’t answer. I could only feel—feel him, feel us, feel everything as the tension between us built to an unbearable peak.
When the climax hit, it was like the world disappeared, leaving only us. I cried out his name, my body trembling as the pleasure consumed me. Brent wasn’t far behind, his groan low and guttural as he followed me over the edge.
For a moment, neither of us moved, our breaths mingling as we came down from the high. His hands stroked my skin, soothing and grounding, and I leaned back against him, my heart still racing.
After a while, Brent shifted, guiding me to lie down beside him. He pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me as if he didn’t want to let go.
“How was that?” he asked again, his voice softer now.
“I…,” I whispered, resting my head against his chest. “I can’t believe we did it.”
His fingers traced lazy circles on my back, and I felt his lips press against my temple in a soft kiss.
“Do you regret it?” he said quietly.
I shook my head. For once, I didn’t argue.
***
Dear Diary,
I never thought I’d see this side of Brent—the one who knows exactly how to touch me, how to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.
Tonight was more than I ever expected.
And for the first time, I feel like I’m not just wanted—I’m loved.