Page 232 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet

Someone did extra homework.

I’m not pointing fingers, but holy fuck. My guy isgood.

And I can’t wait much longer.

But I also don’t want Jude to stop his magic fingers, working my ass just so, or his lush lips sucking me down.

I push up onto my elbows, and I stare at the fantastically filthy sight. His blond head bobs between my legs as he kisses my cock and opens me up. He’s fucking me in every white-hot way—swirling his wicked tongue over the head of my dick, crooking his fingers deep inside me.

My vision blurs. My thighs quake.

He has to stop, or I’ll come in seconds.

Must. Warn. Him.

But when he hauls me deeper into his mouth, stopping feels impossible. I grip his head tighter, slide a hand down between his shoulder blades, and I revel in the buzz and hum of pleasure.

He scissors his fingers and kisses my dick. My brain fries. “Do that again,” I babble.

So much for asking him to stop. I can’t, not when he’s playing the role of sex magician. And I want the payoff of this dark magic trick.

“Fuck me,” I demand, pushing his shoulder away from me, dislodging him. “If you don’t, I’m gonna blow in ten seconds.”

He drops me from his mouth with a satisfied laugh. Eases out his fingers. Climbs over me, planting his palms at my sides. “I told you topping is a lot of responsibility and I’m terrible with responsibility when I just”—he stops, smiles, brushes a kiss to my bearded jaw—“want to suck you dry.”

Even though I’m crackling with desire, I laugh too. “Then I’ll be the boss for a few minutes.” I coat my palm with lube and wrap my fist around him. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Then I guide him to me. I let out a long breath as he notches the head of his dick against me.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he tells me, in a voice so tender, it fills my whole heart.

I obey, breathing in, out, willing my body to relax and let him in.

He goes farther, breaching me. I focus on the goal.

Intimacy.

The concentration in his face is so sexy. The set of his jaw. The focus in his eyes.

Then, a shudder rolls down his body like a hot wave. “You feel soooo good,” he says, then mutters all the curses in the world. “Fuck, I don’t know if I can last.”

Like that, I get out of my head. I push up on my elbows, slide a hand up to his lean chest. “Whatever we do, it’s all good, baby,” I tell him.

He nods a few times, pushes in another inch.

I wince.

He’s stretching me inside out. It stings, the intrusion. But soon, it won’t.

I wrap my hands around his ass and haul him deep.

My sense of control tips upside down. We both curse, and then we kiss. A sloppy, messy kiss that keeps me right here, present with all these new sensations.

With my arms still around him, I lie back, keeping him against me.

And the pain ebbs.

The tension vanishes.