A Man Who Knows What He Wants: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Read online

  I have to squeeze my hands together to stop from charging across the lot.

  I’d throw those clothes to the floor to protect her knees, and then bend her over, fuck her raw as the sun beams down at us.

  There are people around, and maybe that’s the only thing that stops me, the thought of anybody else seeing my queen letting out her inner vixen.

  My head feels like it’s being moved by an external source as she continues to walk, drawing my gaze endlessly.

  It’s not just that spankable ass. It’s those thighs too, thick and full. I can imagine dragging my hand up her juicy thigh toward her even juicier slit, fingering her as her flesh ripples for me.

  For me.

  Only for me.

  Forever. For-fucking-ever.

  I tell myself to stop, to calm down, to try and forget about her.

  But I’m losing the battle.

  I don’t know how much longer I can resist her.

  Chapter Five

  Bria

  It’s been two days since I touched myself to the image of Braden, two days of trying my best not to think about him, to not look at him as he strides across the lot. But it’s so difficult when I’m sure sometimes he’s staring at me too.

  Am I going crazy here?

  Maybe these are the kinds of thoughts that come to a person when they’re sitting on the toilet.

  But several times over the past couple of days, I could’ve sworn he was gazing at me, his eyes hard, the tension making him look like he is going to snap. I can’t stop the tingles from dancing over my skin, even if I know he looks more angry than hungry.

  It hits me as I finish up and stand…

  It must be the costumes.

  He’s angry I got to choose the costumes, that Maximillia pulled one of her famous stunts on his movie. He’s probably thinking of ways to get revenge on me right now, and that’s why he keeps staring like he’s going to tear me to savage pieces.

  I leave the ladies’ room and walk down the hallway. I use the restrooms that are in a separate building, behind the set, because it’s closer to the costume rooms.

  It’s quiet in here, the walls thick, the sounds of the set seeming far away as I walk down the empty corridor.

  Then Braden steps out.

  I gasp and almost leap back when he blocks the corridor, his wide shoulders filling it. He’s wearing his Victorian jacket, the buttons loose around the neck, as though he burst out of it. His hair is messy and wild.

  “Bria,” he snarls.

  “Bra… Mr. Braxten.”

  He smirks and steps forward, closer and closer until he’s standing over me, close enough to touch.

  It takes everything I have not to reach up and claw onto his muscular chest, to squeeze until I feel my fingernails bending against his firmness.

  “Please, call me Braden.”

  “Okay.”

  I let my gaze drop, shyness swarming through me, telling me to get out of here as quickly as I can.

  What the heck is he doing here? Did he follow me or is that just my crazy imagination putting silly thoughts into my head?

  “I’m sorry. I’m in your way.”

  I step aside, thinking maybe he wants to get to the bathroom behind me. Of course, that’s it.

  Him, follow me?

  Jeez, I really need to get some freaking perspective.

  “No, no you’re not,” he snaps, moving so close to me we’re almost touching.

  His scent swirls all around me, musky and manly. I breathe it in, and suddenly it’s like lava is coursing through my veins. His heat pressing against me, wrapping me up warmly as though in a blanket.

  “What are you doing?” I whimper, staring up at him.

  He leans down with this crazed look in his eyes, unhinged like he’s on something. But I know Braden would never do drugs, would definitely never come to work under the influence or anything.

  No, the crazed look is ignited by something else, or by someone else.

  “I’m trying my best to be a gentleman, Bria, that’s what I’m doing. But you’re making it damn difficult.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He chuckles grimly. “Do you really have no idea what you’re doing to me? When you strut across set with those tight fucking pants on, hugging that round full sexy ass. Do you really not know how hard it makes me?”

  I try to speak, but no words will come out as I stare up at him. I keep expecting him to disappear in a cloud of smoke, drifting away into a dream.

  My heart pounds but my instincts rally.

  This is it. This is his revenge.

  Tyler must be waiting around the corner, both of them ready to laugh at me.

  “Full and round,” I whisper. “Okay, I get it. Can I go now?”

  He leans back, tilting his head at me. “Why have you gone all pouty? What’s wrong?”

  “No, it’s fine.” I force back the sob that tries to climb up my throat when I think about this trick. “I know it’s probably not what you wanted to wear. I know you’re all probably really angry at Maximillia, at me. Okay? I get that. And you want payback. Fine, fine. But round and full? Just come out and say fat.”

  I move to walk around him, be he slides over and blocks me, his fists clenched at his sides and his jaw pulsing. Rage is written across his expression because of course, he hates that I saw through his mean trick.

  “Please move,” I say, struggling to stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks.

  My childhood crush has become the same as all my high school bullies.

  Kill me now.

  “Don’t you ever call yourself that again,” he snarls.

  “Please—”

  “Don’t you ever fucking do it.”

  He reaches forward and grabs onto my shoulders, squeezing so hard I have no choice but to feel all the power in his words. His palm burns through the thin fabric of my shirt, boiling against my skin.

  “Do you understand? I never want to hear you describe yourself like that again. Say it. Tell me you’ll never do it.”

  “I won’t do it again.” I moan, unable to stop the sound, as I force the words out of me. “What the heck are you doing?”

  “Your body is full and voluptuous and made for indulging in. It’s made to suck and massage and spank and fuck. Hard, possessively, fuck until everything trembles and it drives me wild.”

  His words wash over me, but there’s still this little voice that tells me it’s a trick. He’s the best actor in the world.

  If anybody could convince me I’m beautiful, it’s him.

  “You don’t believe me.” His voice is blunt, his eyes sharp and alive. “Do you?”

  I shake my head. “How can I?”

  “But your body believes me, doesn’t it?”

  His hand slides down from my shoulders, smoothing across my breasts. He rubs one hand over the top of my shirt and then drags it across to the other, squeezing down so my nipples tingle, rubbing raw against my bra.

  I try to tell him to stop, but the feeling is so freaking sweet, tingly, and fuzzy all over.

  “Please,” I whisper.

  “Please what?” he snarls.

  “I’m sorry about the costumes.”

  “This has nothing to do with the costumes. You did a great job. Stop being a little brat.”

  He brings his other hand to my breasts, as he makes a growling noise.

  His eyes widen as he pushes them together, as though he’s never been more fascinated by anything in his life.

  “You shouldn’t be doing this,” I whimper.

  He pauses, lips twitching. “Are you saying you want me to stop?”

  I try and scream yes, of course, but the words just won’t come out. It’s like my body is telling me to succumb to this moment, even if it’s dangerous… even if somebody could wander into this building any second and catch the star of the movie feeling up one of the costume interns.

  What the heck would they say?

  Would I get fired?

  They’re definitely not going to let him go.

  “Somebody might catch us,” I murmur.

  “Not in here they won’t,” he growls, and suddenly his hands are on my hips.

  He drags me toward the door to the ladies’ room and shoves it open with his shoulder. He pulls me inside and then spins me around, pushing me up against the door.

  “Nobody can get in without us knowing about it,” he snarls, pinning me against the door with his powerful hands.

  “But—”

  “Enough,” he snaps. “No more buts. No more hesitation. I need to taste you.”

  My clit tingles as he leans forward, his breath whispering over my cheeks. With a growl he pushes his lips against mine, crushing against them firmly, bringing my dream colliding into reality like a meteor smashing into the earth.

  I croak, my mouth paralyzed, as he kisses me harder.

  His tongue dances across mine, prompting a torrent of tingles to hammer through me.

  I try to will myself to kiss him back, to clutch onto him, to respond in any way.

  But I feel beyond star-struck, pinned in place, as he slides his hands down my hips and squeezes firmly.

  Chapter Six

  Braden

  Fuck.

  This wasn’t part of the plan.

  But when I saw her come in here – and when I saw she was alone – I couldn’t hold back the fire blazing inside of me anymore. I couldn’t fight the intense need to feel her, to kiss her, to claim her.

  But fuck, fuck, fuck.

  My manhood is rock solid, the helm pressing almost painfully against the inside of my pants. My balls are massive solid rocks, heavier than I can believe, so full of my seed I’m leaking at the tip just thinking about being able to let it squirt in
side my woman.

  Or over those round bouncy tits, painting them in my spend.

  Her lips are soft against mine, her mouth shy as she whimpers through the kiss. It’s like she’s fighting some sort of inner battle, trying to prompt herself to express her pleasure.

  I swirl my tongue around hers, letting her feel how badly I need her.

  She makes a croaking noise, her tongue finally moving in response, her lips working in time with mine. My cock grows even harder when she reaches up and claws onto my jacket as she takes in a gorgeous quick puff of air and squeezes herself closer against me.

  It’s like her impulses are taking over, like her body’s screaming need is overpowering her anxious mind.

  But I can’t think about that for long, not as I grind my cock against her, leaning down so I can push it against her groin.

  “You feel that?” I snarl, breaking off the kiss and bringing my mouth to her ear. “You feel how fucking hard you’re making me? I can’t fake that. So don’t ever think this is a trick again. Feel it, Bria.”

  I lean back to find her staring up at me with real deer-in-the-headlights eyes, like she doesn’t know what to do.

  She’s only eighteen. I have to remember that, an inexperienced innocent thing who needs her beast to show her what to do.

  So I grab her wrist and press her hand against my groin, letting her feel my massive hard dick through my trousers. She gasps as I press harder and harder, savoring the feeling of her palm against my shaft, groaning as my seed writhes up and down my length.

  “What about you?” I snarl. “You might pretend to be shy, but I sense how much your body wants a release. What do you think, Bria? Can you come for me?”

  “Here?” she whimpers.

  No, no, no, a voice roars inside of me.

  But I’m too far beyond reason now, far beyond civility. All I can think about is the feel of her hand against my cock, my mind so filled with her no other thoughts can even attempt to enter. But there’s still a part of me that knows this is wrong… she deserves better than a restroom.

  If somebody tried to walk in here and listen or, worse, look at my woman, I’d kill them.

  I can’t stop, can’t even try to stop, not with her hand pushed against my throbbing need.

  “Bite down on my shirt if you need to moan,” I growl, grabbing onto her thigh with one hand and her ass with the other.

  Her ass is as full and juicy as I knew it’d be, letting me sink my hands into her flesh. I squeeze and let out a shivering growl, hardly able to hold back a primal howl when I feel just how full she is.

  My hand grinds up against her inner thigh, getting hotter and hotter the closer I get to her sex. It’s like I can feel her wet desire, calling to me, tempting me.

  “Don’t make any noise,” I snarl. “We can’t risk anyone hearing you.”

  Her eyes widen in a flash, and for a second she looks like she’s about to say something.

  But my excitable young thing melts for me when I finally push my hand against her center. I grind the heel of my hand against her lips, feeling them press against her pants. She’s so goddamn wet, seeping through the material of her pants.

  I let out another growl and slide my hand up, to her pants, and shove my hand down the front in a quick motion. She whimpers and quickly moves her hands to the button, undoing it.

  “I can’t afford for these to tear,” she whispers, voice shivering.

  Afford? I almost roar.

  She never has to worry about affording anything again. She never has to want for anything for the rest of her life. She’s going to have her finances sorted, her security assured because I’m going to claim her, own her.

  But I can’t let myself blurt all that out.

  She can’t know how willing I am to bankroll her future – our future – because that might change how she behaves toward me. Plus, if I started ranting about babies and houses and a life together, she’d probably think I’m insane.

  Soon, but not now, I can’t think about any of that because my hand is spreading across her soaked pussy.

  Wetness has filled her panties, and her hole is drenched, seeping out more wetness as I grind the heel of my hand against her clit.

  “Don’t worry about me,” I whisper in her ear, as her hand claws blindly at the front of my pants. “Just worry about creaming like the horny thing you are. Come on, Bria. Fucking cream for me. Fucking squirt all over my hand.”

  I pump her faster, leaning back so I can stare at her as she trembles helplessly against the door. Her eyes are half-lidded, her whole body trembling. There’s a shyness to the movements, as though she can’t bring herself to fully let go.

  Faster, harder, I move my hand, so much precome leaking out of my massive ten-inch dick, my boxers getting sticky.

  “Look at me as you come,” I snap. “Open. Your. Fucking. Eyes.”

  I can tell how much effort it takes for her to force her eyes open, how difficult it is for her to watch me as I pleasure her. But I don’t give a damn, not when she gets all wide-eyed and pouty, not when she looks like a shy excited thing ready to take everything I have.

  “Are you going to come?” I snarl, moving my hand down and slipping my finger into her slit.

  Fuck.

  She’s even tighter than I thought she’d be, hot and wet and inviting.

  When I slip into her, she loses it, gasping and clamping her hand over her mouth. She stares at me almost like she’s begging me to stop and keep going at the same time… but I know she’d whimper insistently if I dared to stop my movements now.

  I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist indulging in our pleasure.

  Deeper and deeper I push inside of her, feeling her hot channel grip onto my finger. It’s like her body’s trying to tell me how tight she’ll be when I claim her fully, trying to goad me into pulling out my massive cock and driving up into her hole.

  I’d fuck her so goddamn savagely right now, bend over the toilet, slamming into her so she’s almost lurching forward against the tank.

  But no, that’s the problem.

  We’re in public and I know it’s either all or nothing, brutal and possessive or no nothing at all.

  Yet…

  Can I really fight this urge, this feeling burning through me as she begins to whimper and twitch?

  “That’s it,” I snap. “Come like the obedient girl you are. Squirt all over this finger, you horny eighteen year old fucking angel.”

  There’s so much truth in that word, so much withheld destiny, so much crazy shit in the world angel. It’s what she is, fallen into my life, changing who I am and how I think forever.

  She’s going to swell with my child, my seed expanding inside of her. She’s going to be a good mother to my children, and I’m going to support her in whatever the hell she wants.

  She’s mine, my angel, mine.

  But I can’t give in to this insanity too soon. She’ll think I’m crazy. Or maybe she’ll see her opportunity and pounce.

  No, no, Bria isn’t like that.

  “Come. For. Me.”

  Somehow her slit gets even tighter, squeezing onto my finger like her body is telling her never to let go.

  Everything is already so damn creamy down there, but suddenly it gets even creamier, her panties flooding with come as I pound my finger into her harder and deeper.

  She throws herself forward and brings her teeth down on my jacket, biting down on the lapel, her cheeks blooming red as her eyes fill with tears. It’s like everything in her pouring out of her, all the pleasure she has to give.

  It’s captivating.

  I finger her harder, deeper, taking her, claiming her.

  Mine, I snarl. You belong to me. No other man ever gets to touch you. I will execute anyone foolish enough to try and see you like this, creaming and shaking.

  But no, I can only say that in my mind.

  Instead, I just growl, just fucking snarl, and pound her gushing young pussy even harder.

  “Fuck, fuck,” she whispers. “Oh my God. I don’t know—Fuck, I’ve never… I’ve never…”

  “What?” I snap, leaning down and bringing my lips to hers, kissing her as she lets go of my jacket.

  She moans and tilts her head back, giving in to the kiss like she can’t resist the pleasure. It’s like she feels it too – the call inside of us to give in to the wild insane commands of our bodies.