Page 109 of The Other Side

For retribution.

Redemption.

My hand squeezes his shoulder. He slides his palm down my arm to tangle our fingers, and a gasp ejects from me.

His digits are coarse, harshly kneading between mine. I train my eyes to the dark wood floor, toeing my shoes off.

Our darkest secrets were shoveled out today. The scraps of them dust over us in this tiny room. Familiar pain courses through my veins, and it packs them so tight that my organs can barely function.

Unless I filter it out.

I have to filter it out.

So does he.

I peel from him to idle at the foot of the bed. My pulse sprints when I gently bunch the hem of my dress in fists. I glue my eyes to the headboard, focusing on my mission, and Brant pads over to the sliding doors.

He glides the curtains together, and I swallow over a fat lump. “I’m not looking at you,” I hush. “You don’t have to look at me.”

I yelp when his steel arm curls around my stomach. He plants my back to his firm chest, and his words douse gasoline on the simmering flames. “You were about to show your ass to every hungry onlooker.” His stubble brushes my ear, the contact pebbling my nipples to sharpened points beneath my dress. “I don’t like that,” he whispers.

A short breath wedges out of me. “N-no.”

“No?” he bites back. His palms harshly knead the underside of my tits. “You just want to be a tight, little hole for me tonight? Huh?”

“Yes.”

He swivels my body around, stripping his arms away after. I glance up at him, his face taut when his hands fiddle with his belt buckle.

His gaze is stitched to mine. He unloops the leather strap, his brown lashes framing his beady gaze. Dominance radiates from his irises, and my panties saturate with need.

“Then I don’t know why you’re still standing,” he says.

Like a dog to a bone, I sink to my knees. The rippled wood chafes them, but the discomfort is a fleeting afterthought.

He springs his hard dick from his boxer briefs and jeans. I look up at him expectantly, my palms resting on the denim around his thick thighs.

“Get it wet.” He jerks himself a few times, and I wrap my lips around the velvet tip. I swirl my tongue around the smooth flesh, a hiss breaking free from his parted mouth.

“That’s cute, Cal,” he breathes, his voice worn.

My eyes flash with confusion, his nostrils mildly flaring.

“Spit on it.”

He grits the demand out, his challenge planting courage in my bloodstream. I tip my tight jaw upward, giving him a show as I swivel my sealed mouth around.

His stare is ravenous, his free fingers resting tenderly under my chin. He watches my lips fiddle together, and once I collect enough saliva, I chuck the wad of spit onto his huge cock.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His lips part while he rubs his lathered dick. “Come on, paint me with that berry lipstick.”

My fingers curl around the base of him, and I slide my hungry lips over his steel length. I connect my eyes to his as I bob up and down, smearing my saliva with the motions.

His teeth rest on his lower lip until he’s whispering. “Fuucckk.”

He scoops my hair in his hands, gathering it into a ponytail as I continue to suck him. His mouth hangs open, glints of ecstasy firing off behind his hazel eyes.

Then he begins to pump into me.