19. Brooke

Connor"s sudden embrace was unexpected, his arms wrapping around me with a firmness that left no room for doubt about what he planned to do to me. When his lips met mine, it wasn"t just a kiss; it was a passionate claim, a fiery assertion of desire that rendered me breathless. The world seemed to narrow down to the space between us, every sensation amplified. As he lifted me effortlessly, the shock of being so completely in his control mixed with an exhilarating sense of abandon. He carried me to the couch, his movements confident and determined, each step echoing with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

Connor laid me down, the kiss never breaking, morphing from passionate to something deeper, more consuming. It was as if he was trying to communicate every unsaid word, every suppressed emotion, through the fervency of his actions. The heat between us built, a tangible force that threatened to engulf us both, and in that moment, I surrendered to it completely, allowing myself to get lost in the sensation, in him.

Breaking away from the kiss, we both gasped for air, our breaths mingling in the charged atmosphere that surrounded us. Lying there, with Connor"s weight a comforting presence atop me, I was acutely aware of how much the dynamics between us had shifted. What started as an arrangement fueled by necessity had grown into something indefinably more complex. As I looked up into his eyes, I saw not just the man who had agreed to a transaction, but someone who was just as caught in the tumultuous tide of whatever this was between us as I was. The realization was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure, leaving me to wonder where we could possibly go from here.

"Take off your underwear," he ordered.

"What—?"

"Take off your underwear and leave on the shirt."

I sat up, debating whether I should argue with him. I was still shocked that he casually broke Stephen's finger, and I was pissed at what he told Stephen about our past. He probably ruined any chance I still had with him.

But I couldn't deny the hunger burning through me as I watched his pale blue eyes drink me in, claim me with just a look.

I swallowed and began to reach for my underwear.

Apparently, I was taking too long because Connor grabbed it himself and tore it down the middle, so it fell off of me in pieces.

"Fuck," he breathed out, unabashedly taking me in. "Now…sit on my face."

My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but whether it was the filthy words Connor used or the fact that I wanted to obey him, I didn't know.

I hesitated for a moment, my body trembling slightly, but I knew that resisting now would be pointless. Taking a deep breath, I found myself following his command, my knees gripping the soft cushions as I lowered myself onto him, feeling his warm breath against my most intimate place.

It was an entirely new experience, one that sent shivers down my spine and peaks of pleasure through my body. Connor"s skilled tongue worked in a rhythm that matched the pounding storm outside, every lick and suck leaving me panting and moaning with want.

My fingernails dug into the back of the couch, and I could feel the intense pleasure building within me, a wave of ecstasy that threatened to consume me. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to be overwhelmed by the moment, letting go of any inhibitions and surrendering to the sensations.

"Fuck, you taste so fucking good," he murmured, his lips vibrating against my clit. "I want you to come all over my face, Westwood. I want you to give me every last drop. It's fucking mine."

I whimpered.

His tongue moved against my clit with skill, my pussy dripping shamelessly down his chiseled face.

I clung to the edges of the couch, my limbs shaking violently as the intensity of my pleasure began to peak. Each lash from Connor"s tongue felt like an electric shock, coursing through his veins and firing with ferocity straight to my core. I was helpless, utterly powerless against the storm that had taken hold of me, and I felt a strange sense of peace in that moment, knowing that I had surrendered to him completely.

"Fuck, Bradley... I"m—I"m close," I moaned, the words catching in my throat as the waves of pleasure crested. He continued to devour me, his eyes locked on mine as I succumbed to the hedonistic pleasure coursing through my body.

As my climax neared its peak, I arched my back, pressing myself harder against his mouth, my fingernails digging into the fabric of the couch. I was lost in a whirlwind of sensations, each one more intense than the last, as he continued to devour me with a desperate hunger.

Just then, a sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. In that split second, I caught a glimpse of Connor"s face, twisted in a mixture of raw lust and something else... something that made me shiver. It was a look I didn"t understand, but it added to the surreal nature of the experience.

The storm outside seemed to mirror the turmoil of emotions within me as my orgasm hit. I cried out, my body convulsing as pleasure washed over me, my grip on the couch growing tighter until my fingertips were white. Connor didn"t miss a single beat, his tongue lapping up every last drop of my release, his eyes never leaving mine.

When I finally began to calm down, Connor kissed the inside of my thigh. He lifted me off of him with ease, shifting so I was on his lap, before bringing me in for another kiss.

I tasted my essence on his mouth, felt myself coat his face. It was my own mark, a way to show him he was mine as much as I was his.

As we broke away from the kiss, I could feel my heart racing, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. Connor"s eyes were burning into mine, and I could see the hunger there, the desire that drove him.

He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up only to position me over the arm of the couch. It was only then that I remembered just how naked I was if his shirt wasn't counted…and how fully clothed he was.

"Don't ever fucking let Hanson in my house," he said. "I don't care if he screams at the top of his lungs that I'm fucking you. He's not allowed in here."

His hand ran up and down the globe of my ass, causing me to shudder.

"O…okay," I said.

"You're mine," he said. "You don't have to like it, but you do have to obey. And you are not allowed with any other man. Do you understand?"

"Oh, but you can go off and fuck whoever you want?" I snarled, looking over my shoulder.

The anger came from nowhere, but the injustice of his words burned through me.

"The contract doesn't stipulate my loyalty," he said. "Only yours."

I glared at him, trying to read his expression, but it was as cold and distant as ever. He didn"t seem to care about my anger or my confusion.

"You bastard," I spat, but my heart was pounding with an unfamiliar mix of anger and desire. A strange lump formed in my throat, and I felt tears prick at my eyes. "You"re a fucking monster."

He laughed then, leaning in to run his tongue along my jawline. "You"re right," he said. "I am a monster, one that will devour you whole."

The words should have sent shivers down my spine, but they only made me wetter. I ached for him, needed him like I"d never needed anyone before.

"Well, you can't watch me forever," I said. "Bradley, I swear, if I find out you've fucked someone else —"

"Jealous?" he asked. "I didn't think you cared, Westwood."

"I'm not jealous." I sneered, ignoring the rumbling in my chest that said otherwise. "You're not being fair."

"Newsflash: life isn't fair," he said. He gripped my hips in a bruising hold. "And if I fucking see you even look at another man —"

"You'll what?" I demanded.

"I'll tie you up and take you from behind while you beg for my cock. I'll make you remember who you belong to, Westwood. You fucking listen to me, and you listen good." He leaned in close, his breath hot on my ear. "I"ll take you from behind, every single time. I"ll make you come so hard your legs will go weak, and then I"ll whisper in your ear exactly what I did, who I did it with, and how you can never compare."

A shiver ran down my spine at the image he painted, and despite myself, I couldn"t help but feel an odd mix of dread and anticipation.

"You really are a monster," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.

His hand slid between my legs, his fingers finding their way to my throbbing core. "Yes," he murmured, his voice low and growly. "And you love it."

I bit my lip, trying to deny the truth in his words, but the throbbing between my legs told a different story. I was wet; I was aroused; I was his, and there was no denying that.

He thrust two fingers inside me, hitting my most sensitive spot, and I gasped at the sudden invasion. My body arched towards his hand, seeking more of his touch, more of his control.

"Yes, you do," he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. "You love it because it"s what you need. You need me to control you, to possess you, to make you submit to me completely. No one can handle you the way I can. The boys don't know what to do with you. You need a man…fuck, you need me, Westwood. You need me make your pussy weep with pleasure."

His words sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn"t help but moan softly as his fingers continued to move inside me, his chest covering my back.

"I need it too, Westwood," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "I need you to submit to me, to let me take control. I need you to be mine, completely. And I will never let you go."

As he spoke, his fingers continued to dance inside me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I tried to deny the truth in his words, but I couldn't. Not when he felt so good.

"Fuck," I whimpered.

He smiled, his eyes glinting with lust. "That"s my girl," he said, pulling his fingers out of me with a soft pop.

I felt a surge of disappointment at the loss of his touch, but then he brought his wet fingers to my mouth, and I opened eagerly, licking them clean.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice soft but firm. "Tell me…has anyone made you feel like this?"

He lined himself up behind me, his hands holding my waist again.

"Fuck you," I whispered, my skin prickling with sensation. "It's none of your business."

His cock nudged my entrance, and I could feel the weight of him there, the anticipation making my heart race.

"You are my fucking business, Westwood." Without warning, he slapped my ass. "Tell me. Tell me now. Does anyone make you feel the way I do?"

I clenched my teeth together. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but I wanted his cock inside of me.

"Can anyone make you come the way I do?" he continued.

I whimpered in response, my body trembling with desire. His hand stroked up and down my soaked folds, his fingers teasing me cruelly. I could feel the wetness coating my lips, my arousal growing with every passing moment.

"You know you want to," he said, his voice low and sultry. "Tell me, Westwood. Tell me who has ever made you feel this way."

I bit my lip, trying to resist the urge to beg him, to plead with him to take me. But the need was too strong, the desire too overwhelming.

"You," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper. "It"s only you, Bradley."

His cock pressed against my entrance, the widening of his hips signaling his intent to take me. I could feel the anticipation building, the tension growing between us.

"That"s right," he growled, thrusting inside me in one smooth motion.

I cried out, the sensation overwhelming, my body clinging to him as he filled me completely. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me as he began to move, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.

"Take it, Westwood," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. "Let me show you what I bought you for."

I moaned softly, feeling him hit a spot deep inside me, my body responding with a rush of pleasure. My mind was filled with a haze of lust and desire, as we moved in rhythm together.

Bradley"s hand slid up my body, his fingers wrapping around one of my breasts, kneading it roughly as he continued to thrust.

"You feel so good, Westwood," he breathed.

My body arched towards his, seeking more of his touch, more of his control.

He pulled away from me, his hands gripping my hips, and then slammed back into me, his thrusts becoming more forceful with each passing second. My moans became louder, more desperate, my body writhing beneath him.

"Bradley," I gasped, my voice trembling with need. "O-oh, Bradley, don"t stop."

"Scream my name, Westwood."

His thrusts became rougher, more animalistic, and I knew that if he kept this up, I wouldn"t be able to hold back my pleasure for much longer.

My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending in my body screaming for more of his touch. I felt his hand slide down my body, between my legs, and he rubbed my clit with his thumb, sending me over the edge.

"Connor, oh, fuck, I'm coming, please!" I cried out, my orgasm hitting me like a freight train. My body shook, my fingers digging into the couch, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over me.

He continued to thrust into me, matching the rhythm of my orgasm, driving me higher and higher until I was sobbing his name.

"That"s it, Westwood," he groaned, his hips moving faster and harder. "You"re mine, baby. Only mine."

The words sent shockwaves of desire through me, and I felt his cock twitch inside me, the sensation sending me higher.

"Connor, I need you to come inside me," I begged, my body craving his release as much as my own.

His thrusts became more erratic, his hips moving in short, sharp jabs that drove me wild. I could feel his cock swelling inside me, the sensation intense and exhilarating.

"Take it, Westwood," he growled, his voice rough with lust. "Take every last drop."

And with that, he thrust into me once more, his cock pulsing inside me, filling me with his seed. I cried out, my body arching towards him, my sex clenching around him as he flooded me with his release.

"Yes," he groaned, his body shuddering as he stayed buried inside me. "You"re mine, Westwood. For the rest of your life, you're fucking mine."

He pulled out of me, leaving me feeling empty and yet completely fulfilled. I could feel his semen dribbling out of me, coating my inner thighs.

His eyes flickered down, taking in the ruined shirt, the puddle on the floor.

"Fuck," he whispered, more to himself than to me.

He yanked me to him and put his mouth on my neck, sucking at the skin.

"I could come just from the sight of you like this, covered in me."

He kissed my neck, his tongue darting out to taste himself.

"Don't cover this up." He ran a finger over the new hickey. I was surprised there wasn't blood. "I need everyone to know that you belong to me, even if they don't know it's me. And there will be a consequence if you defy me, Westwood. Don't even fucking think about it."

He stood up, pulling me with him, my legs still weak from the intensity of our encounter. He pulled me close, his hands cupping my face, his eyes burning into mine.

My heart stuttered at the intensity of his gaze before he kissed me long and hard.

"I'll get dinner," he said. "Don't you fucking shower either. I want you to smell like me too."

"Fucking psycho," I muttered, but my heart wasn't in it.

He said nothing in response. It was only when he moved back to the kitchen did I collapse on the couch, finally able to breathe…and no longer able to stand.