Page 26 of Brazilian Surrender
“Jaeger, please. Por favor.”
“Not yet, beautiful,” he whispered against her lips, the words as delicate as if she were made of breakable material. Nipping her lower lip until it released with a pop, he continued. “I’ll give you release when my cock is buried deep inside you.”
“Yes.”
He continued to kiss her, the strokes of his tongue growing hungrier, more powerful. She matched his urgency, her legs moving restless under his. Thankfully, he glided one of his hands on her body until it nudged her thighs apart. She caught a whiff of the scent of her arousal, and her cheeks and neck reddened.
His finger split her soaked folds apart, the pad brushing against her sensitive skin. Her clit throbbed, and he started to play with it, teasing the nub with his thumb. Strands of compressed pleasure built in her core, and she groaned. He added another finger, this time thrusting in and out of her with such intensity she felt tears brimming at the corner of her eyes. Soon the release hit her and spasms rode her body, matching the rhythms of his fingers.
She was barely recovering, her breathing coming back to normal when he stopped kissing her and slid down the bed until his head nestled between her legs. Without warning, he began to lick her pussy, suckling, his tongue swirling and exploring her folds. An ache sizzled within her. She wanted to touch him, to pull his hair, to give him what he had so awesomely given her.
She didn’t expect desire to stir again in her core so soon after orgasming. Yet an electric current charged through her, and she had no say in the matter. Jaeger kissed her, his hands trailing a pattern up and down her thighs as he devoured her.
Within minutes, the vortex of another climax claimed her, and she contracted her inner muscles one last time and let herself go as pleasure overpowered her. She realized no matter what happened she’d never forget tonight. She’d never forget this man, and she had herself to blame for it.
…
“Don’t move,” Jaeger said.
If the look of bliss on her face was anything to go by, she was still experiencing post-orgasm joy. He eased off the bed and grabbed the condom he’d placed on the nightstand. Ever since losing Ellen, he’d only been able to have sex while his partner didn’t touch him. This way, he was in control. This way, nothing unexpected—like distracting emotions that could bring unwanted consequences—would take place.
His strategy for survival had been to keep every aspect of his life in an orderly fashion, sex included. When he’d pleasured her in the pool house, she’d touched his hair, squeezed his shoulders, and ran her fingers across his jaw. If he allowed the same liberties during sex, lines would be blurred. If he made an exception for her, there would be no going back. And he couldn’t think of a happy future. A future he didn’t deserve—a future that could put her own safety in jeopardy. He hadn’t been able to save his family.
“Trust me, even if I wanted to move, my legs wouldn’t let me.”
He winked at her. “We’d better work on your endurance, then.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He ripped the foil packet open. His cock throbbed, and he sheathed himself. She watched his every move, and he almost wished he couldn’t see her. Focusing on dodging her hungry stare proved difficult. So far Camila had been the most vibrant, lovely, responsive woman he’d been with—how much hotter would she be if she could touch him, tease him the way he had done her?
He shook his head. It couldn’t happen.
He covered her with his body to keep stupid thoughts away. She lifted her head to kiss him, and he teased her, ducking away when her lips brushed his and a powerful surge came alive inside him. She slipped out her tongue, and for a second he lowered himself and allowed her to trace his lip. A shiver bolted through his spine, and he growled. Shit.
He captured her lips into a punishing kiss, hoping to overwhelm her as much as he was, but if she experienced it, she hid it well. She responded with passion, her tongue swirling against his, her teeth grazing his lips.
He rubbed the tip of his cock into her sex, desperate to plunge into her but resolute in not hurting her.
“Yes,” she said, giving him the permission he needed.
Maybe later they could stretch foreplay for much longer. All he wanted now was to screw her hot and fast, to keep whatever oxygen was left in his brain. His balls tingled, heavy and full.
“If you don’t get inside me, I’ll hurt you,” she said. “I may not have your training, but I’ll make it happen one way or another.”
He chuckled. When had been the last time he laughed naked? “I know you will.” He kissed her forehead, his nose rubbing lazily against her hairline.
He thrust into her, carefully. Her face contracted for a moment, and he held out the last two inches. “Are you okay?” he asked, sure he was stretching her to the max.
“Yes. Keep going.” She lifted her head and kissed his cheek, the act disarming him and spilling warm goo into his veins.
Encouraged, he plunged his entire cock inside her and groaned. Her sweet walls—he knew it because he’d just tasted them—clung to him tightly, her inner muscles throbbing around his dick. He pumped into her, in and out, as she wrapped her legs around his ass.
When she did that, his entire body seared. And he quickly disengaged from her, flipping her on the bed before she could gasp. She murmured something in Portuguese he couldn’t quite register, but it sounded positive and reassuring. He pushed her head down on the pillow and nudged her thighs apart a bit. He touched her clit, and wetness dripped from his fingers.
Pre-cum bubbled on his tip, and he sucked in a breath. Slowing down was not an option. He plummeted into her, her loud moan filling the space. Unable to control himself, he thrust all the way to the hilt. Each time he withdrew his cock a bit, he slammed back harder, deeper, faster until he let out a grunt and spilled himself into her.
“So why don’t you like to be touched?” Camila asked, a good ten minutes after he untied her. “You never gave me a good reason.”
