Big Man’s Claim by Wylder, Penny (new ebook reader TXT) 📕

as she climbs onto the tips of her toes to kiss me harder. My cock is hard within seconds. Rock hard, throbbing in my pants, ready to burst through the material.

I should stop this. I should break away and just tell her to go.

But I don't. I kiss her savagely, with so much hunger I almost knock her off her feet. Walking her backwards, her back hits the wall and she moans again.

Pulling her lips off of mine, she's breathing like she just ran a marathon. Her eyes flick around my face as she plays with my hair.

“I know how to thank you for what you did.”

Eyeing her curiously, her smile thickens as she bites down on the tip of her tongue. Lowering to her knees, her hands drift down my chest. Eagerly, she licks her lips and pulls my prick out.

“Wait, maybe. . .” My voice fades to nothing as her tongue runs around my tip. Sucking my entire shaft into her mouth, I close my eyes. I want to pinch myself to make sure this real. But I'm afraid to. I want this to be real, and not another dream. Instead, I dig my fingers into her hair, and help her fuck me with her mouth.

If I am dreaming, I never want to wake up.

8

Melody

My fingers don't even touch each other as I hold his shaft in my hand. He's throbbing, as if his dick has a pulse of its own.

I can feel it beating against my palm, pounding faster and faster as I bring it to my mouth. The tip is already glistening, sticky and wet. My eyes jump up to his as I flatten my tongue and touch him for the first time.

Bran sucks in a quick breath and holds it. His fingers find my hair, tugging gently at my roots. I moan against his cock as he eases into my mouth, and I let him keep going until he hits the back of my throat. His fingers wrap tighter, and I can feel his nails rake across my scalp.

Grunting, he rocks his hips softly, giving an extra push as I drive my face forward. He's so fucking hard. His shaft is firm as marble, his tip engorged and swollen as the thick vein pulses against my tongue.

Stretching my lips as wide as they can go, I suck him so hard my cheeks hollow.

I've thought about him far too much for my own good. Even at the doctor's office, every time the doctor touched my ankle, Bran popped into my head. When I'm at work, I see him in every man that comes in, and hear his voice in every phone call.

I'm obsessed.

I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not, but if I didn't see him soon, I was going to lose my damn mind.

So here I am, with his prick in my mouth and the flutter in my gut I longed to feel again. I've never felt this way about anyone else. I know my brother wants me to stay away from him, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him.

This is for me.

I don't think Ryder can even start to understand how this man is different from all the rest. He literally saved my life. He kept me safe and warm all through the night, and he did it because he wanted to.

Sucking with more force, I slurp my way back to the edge of his crown. Holding his dick, I glide my hand down at the same time as my mouth, squeezing firmly. Bran groans loudly, his knees almost buckling as he throws out his hand and palms the wall.

“Mm, fuck, Mel,” he utters under his breath as he opens his legs wider and leans forward. “I'm going to come.”

Just knowing he's about to blow his load makes me drip and my mouth work faster. He keeps going deeper into my mouth, and when I think I have all of him, he gives a thrust of his hips, filling my throat even more.

His dick throbs as he lifts up on his toes and yanks my hair. Hot jizz shoots down my throat, warm and smooth. Bran takes a step back, pulling his cock free from my mouth. Swallowing all of him, I lick my fingers.

“You taste so fucking good,” I say, slipping my finger into my mouth and sucking it clean. His tip shines with a small drop of jizz, so I quickly lap it up, not wasting a single drop.

His eyes darken, lids hooding as he growls through clenched teeth. In one swoop, he lifts me off my feet and carries me to his bedroom.

His cabin is a wide open space. His kitchen has its own nook on the back wall, and there's a couch creating a small divide in the center of the room. There's a spiral staircase that leads to a loft, where I can see his bed and dresser.

I can't help but notice all the easels and paint, canvases and modeling clay. There's a long table to the side of the front window, and a chair set up at one of the easels. Wood chips and saw dust create a layer of natural carpet, and there are paintings and sculptures hanging all over the walls.

As he carries me up the stairs, I can't take my eyes off his face. I love his face. He's handsome and rugged, his hands creased with dirt, fingers tough with callouses and soft from fresh blisters.

Dropping me onto his mattress, he falls to his knees and climbs between my legs. Pulling my legs up over his shoulders, he starts to work my pants down.

“Now it's my turn,” he says, his voice husky and full of need.

“But I didn't save you,” I answer, softly running my fingertips through his hair. I don't fight him off, I let him remove my clothes with no resistance.

I'm so fucking turned on there's no way I could stop him even if the little angle on my