Brown Siblings - 01 Laid Bare (13 page)

He brushed a thumb over her collarbone, ever so softly as he shook his head. “No. I love when you do that. When you take care of me. It’s,” he licked his lips, searching for words, “it gets to me.”

“Th-thank you. That’s a lovely thing to say.” She didn’t say more, because she liked taking care of him. A lot.

She couldn’t love Todd Keenan. Period. The cost of loving people was losing them, and she could not bear it again. It was too late not to love her brothers, but she needed to put the kibosh on this love thing for Todd right then.

Fucking—hell yes. Loving—hell no. She didn’t have the time to love anyone else. Her love bill was full. He needed a woman who was whole and not fucked up. She was not that woman.

12

Todd walked back with her, loving the way the breeze ruffled the bottom of her dress. Her hair, so shockingly pink, looked like soft cotton candy. He nearly laughed aloud at the thought that he’d ever find such a description romantic, much less beautiful, but there it was.

On her it all worked. Because she was simply one of a kind. One of a kind and nervous as the shadows had lengthened into night.

She’d jumped several times as sudden laughter or talking drifted from a doorway, from the fronts of the cafés and stores marking their route back to her building.

Her eyes cut left and right and her spine vibrated with tension.

This was not the woman he’d fucked in an alley ten years ago. That woman had been totally fearless and he ached for whatever had happened to her to rob her of that.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” he asked gently as he led her into her house and helped her out of her sweater.

“What do you mean?” She toed out of her shoes and set them on a wooden rack near the door and he followed suit.

“I know a little bit about the attack. Not a lot. I know you lost a child. Tell me what makes you jump at shadows.”

She turned. He noted her knuckles on the hand holding her bag had gone white.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Yes, I lost a child. I nearly died. You can imagine the rest.” She had no fucking idea. Todd worked to keep himself relaxed, even as his body wanted to go and pick her up, force her to tell him and hold her forever. “I can, and it scares the shit out of me.

Share it. You can trust me to catch you when you fall.” She took a step back and dropped her bag on the table. “It’s not that. I just don’t like talking about it. And I don’t mean any of fense, but I trust three people. Me, Adrian and Brody.” He thought of what he’d say in response. It hurt; there was no denying that not being included with her brothers sliced through his gut. But he understood. He loved her and he saw her pain.

He got why it would be hard to trust. And he’d show her she could add his name to that short list.

There was no small amount of irony that their situation had flipped from where it had been before. Back then she’d been coaxing him to open up to her and he’d been scared shitless.

A sickening thought occurred to him. “At least tell me
he
didn’t do this to you. Jeremy, the guy you loved before.”

Total surprise washed over her face and he relaxed a bit. No, it wasn’t the ex. The ex who had made a child with her, with the woman Todd loved.

She shook her head, hard. Her hair spilled into her face. “No. God, no. Jeremy loved Adele.

Loved me. He never would have hurt either one of us.” Her voice caught, and he was wrapped around her before he even thought about moving.

They remained there, just hugging, until the tenor of the moment changed, deepened, thickened, and he had to step back because his cock hardened against her.

She looked up into his face, her eyes lost. “Help me feel alive,” she whispered.

He nodded.

Erin watched his face change and her cunt bloomed at the sight of the birth of the very potent dom he was becoming. She didn’t think in terms of “dom” being capitalized and “sub” being lowercase. To Erin, D/s wasn’t about one person being worthy of a capital letter and the other not. It wasn’t about unequal worth; it was about two equals
sharing
power, sharing sex and emotion. She didn’t submit to him because she wanted to be debased or harmed, because she needed to be lesser than anyone. She was aware some people got off on that, and hey, whatever floats your boat. But when he dominated her, she felt cherished and adored, cosseted in those perfect moments between them—in a way she never achieved with anyone else.

She liked that he looked her over carefully. She knew to be sure she was ready for whatever he planned to dish out, and god help her if she didn’t want to fall to her knees right then.

He nodded once, apparently having decided she was on board with his plans, and jerked his head toward the living room. “Naked and bent over the arm of the couch. Now.” Blinking rapidly, she reached for a calming breath even as a flush worked through her body at his command. Trembling hands managed to get the side zipper on her dress down so she could step from it. Her bra followed. She walked over to the couch, then bent forward, bracing her hands. The air in the room was cool against her bare skin; the slight nub in the fabric on the couch abraded her belly and thighs.

Would he use his hands on her ass? Would he fuck her hard? What was his purpose?

The questions wisped through her brain idly as she sought to find a quiet spot in her head.

Waiting.

“Mmm. I do love looking at you like this. No panties either, just the way I like it.” She heard the jingle of his belt buckle and the slither as he pulled it from the loops. Her pussy softened at the sound combined with raw desire in his words. He looked at her and saw the beauty there. She pleased him, and in turn, that pleased her.

He drew the thin but sturdy leather over her bare back, leaving shivers in its wake. Her breath caught at the soft/rough caress.

“I’ve never used my belt on a woman—hell, on anyone but myself. I’ve craved it for so long.” She swallowed, trying to wet her mouth enough to speak. “On yourself?”

“I . . .” He hesitated, his thigh against hers, denim against bare skin. “I used to wrap it around my hand when I jerked off.”

Her heart skittered in her chest a moment at the very powerful image he’d just given her. But even more that he’d shared such an intimate detail.

“Todd, please use it on me. I need it.” She noted the slight slur in her words. God, he made her pleasure drunk.

His shirt fluttered to the ground in the corner of her vision, and she heard five pops of the buttons on his fly. Those
pop
s had become a potent aphrodisiac. Each one, knowing it went lower and lower, exposing the front of his boxers, made her wetter and wetter. Anticipating his touch, what he’d do to her next, her body burned. It was like this only with him. There had never been another who’d done this to her body. And soul.

The first crack of his belt over her thighs was more a caress than an outright strike of leather against tender flesh. He stood close, at her hip, and his cock nudged ever harder against her.

“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered. “Do it again. Please.” He groaned and another strike fell, this one a bit harder, and the sting built into warmth.

Hormones surged inside her, endorphins responding to the pain. She’d never felt anything like it and she craved more, arching back to him.

Another fell as he experimented with the strength of the strike and how to hold it, where to use it.

She closed her eyes and let herself fall into the place where feeling became everything. Each successive strike of his belt—on her ass and thighs, sometimes the bite of the belt flicking against the tender, swollen lips of her pussy—pushed her farther and farther away, until she felt like she floated.

The fire on her flesh brought her nerve endings to vivid life. Her senses were fine-tuned. She felt everything—the cool air on her skin, the warmth of his body behind her, the breeze that preceded each stroke of his belt.

She heard the strangled moan he made and then the belt dropped to the couch in front of her, in her line of sight, where it could taunt her.

His fingers drew over the heat on her ass and thighs and she wondered what it looked like, what he saw. She knew how it made him feel. His cock seeped pre-come against her hip; his movements, though gentle, were slightly jerky.

His instincts where her pleasure was concerned were scarily accurate. Somehow this made sense to her, as she’d always felt such a deep connection to him.

His fingers found her cunt swollen and wet, blooming just for him. He trailed a finger over the flesh of her thigh, her own juices cool against that heat. “You don’t know how hard it makes me to see your pussy so wet for me. To know your cunt is hungry for my cock.” His voice was thick and hoarse.

He licked a trail from the back of her neck all the way down her spine. His fingertips traced the

design of her tattoo. Pressing gentle kisses over her ass and down her thighs, he pushed her legs open wider with his hands. She gasped as his mouth opened over her pussy.

“I love looking at you this way.” Tongue and lips, he devoured her for several long moments and pulled back. “Damn, so sweet. Your clit is so pretty there, peeking out of its hood, wanting attention.”

The flat of his tongue pressed over it, moving it around against his taste buds. “And this.” He tickled his pinky over the puckered star of her anus. “This little hole. How is it that every part of you is so damned beautiful and sexy?”

All she could do was moan.

His middle finger teased around her gate as his mouth found her clit again. He tormented her that way for a very long time, until he finally stood up. Dimly, she heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper in the background and he was back, pushing into her body with inexorable strength.

She arched, taking him as deeply as possible. He reached around, grabbing a nipple in one hand and sliding down to her clit with the other. He
tug, tug, tug
ged the ring, sending bright shards of pleasure through her when she wasn’t sure she had any left to give.

But he continued to fuck into her, slow and deep, while he played with her clit. All it took was a few gentle squeezes between slippery fingers and the orgasm he’d been carefully crafting over the last minutes exploded through her.

Writhing helplessly as he thrust deep into her body, she continued to come, cunt clasping around his cock. But he held on, continuing to stroke deep into her. His hands had moved back to her hips, where he gripped her, keeping her at precisely the angle he wanted.

She lost herself in receiving him, in her body making way for his over and over until he finally thrust one last time, deep, and came.

He stumbled away a step to get rid of the condom, pressing a kiss at the small of her back before he left.

In the bathroom he splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection. His pupils were large, his skin flushed with sex. With something more. He’d never used a belt, or anything other than his hand, on a woman. The high of it rode him, surged through his senses. He’d loved it, loved watching her skin turn pink, loved the slight welts he’d made. He worried at first that he’d hurt her, but he listened to her sounds, watched her body language, and if the slickness of her pussy had been any indication, she enjoyed it too.

He went back out to her, knowing she might need a bit of snuggling. He wanted her to understand that what had happened, despite its roughness, was tender on his part. He hoped it hadn’t been too much, so soon after she’d told him that little bit about her daughter. Hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

She was in the kitchen, singing as she dug through the fridge. Still naked, her ass and thighs still bore welts, and he felt awful even as the sight hardened his cock. She turned to him, smiling.

“Thirsty?” She drank deeply from a bottle of water, holding a spare one his way.

“Are you all right?”

She set the water down and moved to him, sliding into his arms like they were made just for her to be in them. “I’m more than all right.”

“I just never, ever want to harm you. I don’t want you to fear me. You’re precious to me.” She looked up into his face. “I’m not afraid of you, Todd. I wouldn’t have allowed you to do any of this if I hadn’t trusted you not to harm me.”

“I don’t know how to do this. I’m sure you’re more experienced with it.” She laughed. “I know what I like, but I wouldn’t say I was experienced. I’ve played over the years.” She put a hand on his cheek as he began to blush, thinking about her with other men.

“But never what we’ve had between us. We’ll learn together. There’s no ‘Big Rule Book of Bondage’ or anything. It’s about what works for us. And the belt works for me.” She fanned her face and his angst lifted.

He grinned at her. “Works for me too.”

13

She saw him enter the café and placed a plate with a turkey sandwich extra-loaded with avocado and bacon on the bar. She’d tried to get him to sit at a table, to give her some space, but he’d ignored the suggestion and crowded in. So she’d given up and let herself be happy with making him lunch every day, even as she refused his invitations for dates.

Ella had been there the morning after Erin’s last date with Todd. She’d come through the door shell-shocked by the depth of what they’d shared. Her friend had just put a cup of coffee and a huge blueberry scone on the counter. Erin hadn’t spoken for long minutes until, finally, she’d given up a little bit to the other woman. A bit of her fear, a bit of her hesitation at becoming so deeply involved when she wasn’t back on her feet emotionally.