The Fight In Us: A Brother's Best Friend College Romance (The Four Book 4) by Becca Steele (read me a book txt) 📗

The first orgasm I’d had that hadn’t been self-induced.

As I came back down, I was aware of the tiniest things. A small fly, perched on the corner of the computer monitor in front of me. The faint scent of lemon, slightly antiseptic, presumably from whatever cleaning products had been used in here. The soft slide of fabric as Weston withdrew from me and adjusted my clothes. Weston’s chest, rapidly rising and falling against my back.

Weston’s hard, hard cock, pressed against my ass.

All I wanted to do right then was to make him feel as good as he’d made me feel.

On shaky legs, I stood and turned to face him, letting myself collapse back against the desk. My gaze took him in, the way he watched me intently, his pupils more dilated than I’d ever seen before, and…fuck it. I bypassed the rest of him to zero in on the result of our…proximity. His hardness, straining against the material of his sweatpants.

My mouth watered. Sucking dick had never been high on my agenda. But now, it was right at the fucking top.

“Put your fingers in your mouth.”

He swallowed hard, his lids lowering to half-mast. “These ones?”

As he lifted the fingers that had just been inside of me, I nodded.

“Yes.”

Without taking his eyes from me, he slid them into his mouth.

“I need to suck your cock.” I could barely get the words out.

Hesitation entered his eyes. “Are you—”

“Don’t ask me if I’m sure.”

He must’ve recognised the steel in my tone, because he nodded once, then gripped his waistband, and lifting himself slightly, tugged down his sweatpants.

Oh. Fuck.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for the sight of Weston’s cock. I hadn’t had personal experience, but I’d watched porn, and his long, thick hardness was mouth-watering, hotter than anything I’d ever seen.

Before I could allow myself to be intimidated, or worse, talk myself out of it, I sank to my knees and gripped the base. He hissed through his teeth, his cock jerking in my grip, but his hands remained at his sides, holding on to the sides of his chair tightly as he allowed me to take things at my own pace.

Leaning forwards, I kissed the top, my tongue automatically swiping across my lips, tasting his precum. I hummed in approval, then, still holding the base, licked around the tip with a long drag of my tongue.

“Lena.” His voice was guttural, and right then, I felt more powerful than I ever had before. To know that I was on my knees, yet he was the one falling apart…it was insane and addictive, and I wanted more.

“How do you like it?” I stared up at him from beneath my lashes. “Like this?” Channelling what I knew from porn and hoping it wasn’t all a lie, I lowered my head to encompass his thickness, sliding my free hand along his inner thighs and carefully cupping his balls.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled, and I smiled. My jaw already ached, he was so fucking thick, but I craved his responses. Just to test things out, I flicked my tongue across the underside of the head as I sucked him down again, and I was rewarded with a heavy groan and his hands white-knuckling the sides of his chair as he fought to remain still while I worked him over. The textures, the sensations, and the flavour of him overwhelmed me, and I wanted more. More of him.

“Lena.” His hands were in my hair, tugging my head upwards, and almost as soon as I released him, his hand went to his cock, right above where mine still gripped him, and he came, hard and fast, his cum painting my hoodie and the floor.

When he’d recovered, he looked at the mess he’d made and winced. “Sorry.”

“I’m not.” Rocking back on my heels, I smiled up at him, satisfied. “By the way? If the computer thing doesn’t work out, you could consider a career in porn.”

He stared at me for a moment, and then a huge grin spread across his face, his eyes sparkling. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. You could take someone’s eye out with that thing.”

“It’s my weapon of mass destruction.”

Suddenly we were both laughing, and he was pulling me up and into his lap. “You’re a bad girl, Lena Drummond.”

“Me?” I raised a brow.

His lips skimmed over mine. “Fuck, yeah. And I love it.”

TWENTY-TWO

My back rested against a huge beanbag, my laptop balanced on my outstretched legs as I pulled up the relevant screen. Rather than crowding into the computer room, or the spy room, as Winter called it, we’d assembled in the lounge, and my laptop was currently connected to the huge TV that hung on the wall. We hadn’t been able to collect a huge amount of data yet, but the fact that Martin Smith was connected to the dog fighting was exactly the breakthrough I needed. The fact was, all I’d had to go on up until now was my dad’s gut instinct, but maybe now we could pin something on him.

And it was all thanks to Lena. I glanced over at the sofa where she was curled up next to Winter with a mug of tea clasped in her hands. Her eyes met mine, and she quickly averted her gaze, staring into the cup of tea as if it was the most fascinating thing ever. Her cheeks flushed, and I bit back a smile at the effect I was having on her. Maybe I was completely dumb, but she said she’d been into me for years, and I’d had no idea. Not until recently.

Earlier had been…unplanned, but so fucking good. I had no clue what I was doing, but I was getting good at reading her, so I went with what I thought was right. Making her concentrate on the screen while I touched her—I wanted to stop her getting lost in her head, and she hadn’t had a chance to think about anything else