Page 57 of Brother in Law with Benefits

“Not done,” he says, voice still rough. “Get up here.”

I understand what he wants before he finishes asking. I climb into his lap, knees braced on either side of his hips on the couch cushions, and sink back down onto him slow. I can feel every thick inch of him like this, the way I’m the one setting the pace for a moment.

“There,” he says, hands settling on my hips, guiding without controlling. “That’s it. Take what you need.”

I brace my hands on his shoulders and move exactly how I want, exactly how deep I want. His head drops back against the couch, jaw tight, watching me through half-closed eyes like he’s committing every second to memory.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, low. “Riding me like you own it.”

I ride him harder, chasing the second climb, and then his hands tighten and the control shifts.

“Turn around,” he says. “Hands on the arm of the couch. I want you from behind.”

The order lands hot and immediate. I don’t hesitate. I lift off him, turn, and brace myself on the armrest on my knees. He moves in behind me without wasting a second, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades to keep me arched, the other guiding the thick head of his cock back to my entrance. He pushes in hard, one long thrust that makes me cry out, and then he’s fucking me deep and steady from behind, the new angle hitting places the first position didn’t.

“That’s it,” he growls, one hand fisting in my hair, the other gripping my hip. “Taking Daddy’s cock so well.”

The word hits me like it always does—sharp and filthy and exactly right. I push back to meet every thrust, already shaking.

His hand leaves my hip. I feel his thumb, slick with how wet I am, press against my ass. He circles once, deliberate, then pushes the tip inside while his cock keeps driving into me. The dual sensation—thick cock stretching my cunt, the slow burn ofhis thumb working deeper into my ass—makes my arms nearly give out.

“Oh my god!”

“Feel that?” His voice is pure gravel now, right against my ear as he leans over me. “Daddy filling both. You like that, baby girl? You like me in your ass while I fuck this tight little cunt?”

“Yes—fuck, yes!”

He works the thumb deeper in time with his thrusts, not rough, just relentless, opening me while he pounds into me from behind. The wet, filthy sounds of it fill the room. Every time he bottoms out I feel him everywhere, and the stretch of his thumb makes the drag of his cock feel even thicker.

“Grant, fuck, Daddy! I’m close!”

“I know. I can feel you clamping down.” He fucks me harder, thumb still buried, his other hand sliding around to rub tight circles on my clit. “Come for me. Come on Daddy’s cock with my thumb in your ass. Let me feel it.”

I do. It rips through me harder than the first one. It’s violent and full-body, my cunt pulsing around him while my ass clenches on his thumb, a broken cry tearing out of me that doesn’t sound like my own voice. The orgasm keeps rolling, longer and wetter than anything earlier, and he doesn’t ease up until I’m shaking so hard I can barely stay on my knees.

Only then does he follow, slamming deep one last time and coming with a low, guttural groan of my name and the word he’s claimed, cock throbbing as he empties into me in thick pulses while his thumb stays seated in my ass through every aftershock.

We collapse forward together onto the couch, a tangled, sweaty mess, his chest against my back, both of us breathing like we’ve run somewhere. He eases his thumb free carefully, then wraps both arms around me and just holds on.

“Well,” I say eventually, voice thoroughly wrecked. “That was not gentle.”

“You asked for not gentle.”

“I did. I stand by the request.” I trace a lazy line down his forearm where it’s wrapped around my middle. “Ten out of ten. Would defiantly reclaim my sense of self again. Possibly review the choreography for future use.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to my shoulder, softer now, the fierceness of a few minutes ago settling into something quieter.

"I meant what I said," he tells me. "Every word."

"I know."

We sit like that a while, quiet, his hand tracing absent shapes on my stomach.

"Can I ask you something that has nothing to do with today?" I say.

"Always."

"The house thing. When you said, back at the site, before all of this — you closed the laptop on a listing you didn't want me to see." I feel him go very slightly still behind me. "You looked at houses."