#Selfie (Hashtag Series Book 4)(10)By: Cambria Hebert
It wasn’t the first time he’d said my name.
But it might as well have been.
My eyes locked on his, and I felt him between my thighs; his patience and will was unmatched.
“Give it to me.”
And then it happened. My nails dug into his back, my toes curled into the sheets, and pleasure rolled over me like a giant wave in the sea. It literally flowed through my entire body as I started to moan.
Braeden covered my mouth with his as I groaned and whimpered.
I was totally helpless to the way he milked my body. I’d never in my entire life felt anything more powerful.
When my body, totally spent, fell back in languid stupor, he rose above me, holding himself up on his arms, and drew back, only to surge into me again.
My mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Braeden totally took over and pumped his hips until his entire body went rigid and I felt his hot release inside me. When he collapsed on me, his skin was slick with sweat and his body jerked with little aftershocks.
So did mine.
Braeden had just become my own personal earthquake. Everything inside me felt rattled and shifted. The composition of my insides would never be the same again.
I didn’t mind the weight of him over me; in fact, I was grateful for it. Without it, I would surely float away. At least this way I stayed grounded.
Eventually, the electricity in the air evaporated, leaving behind two naked people piled on a bed. The sound of the ocean waves outside the window seemed to intrude, and the reality of what just happened settled in.
I just had sex with Braeden.
The guy I hated. The guy who slept with girls and then vanished, leaving them brokenhearted. I saw firsthand what he was capable of. After all, he did it to one of my best friends.
Missy was never going to forgive me for this.
All the muscles in my body tightened. My stomach clenched. The euphoria of my very first orgasm was being intruded upon by the fact the person who gave it to me was irrevocably off-limits to me.
I was a terrible person.
Braeden pushed away and walked into the adjoining bathroom. He didn’t say a word. I wondered if he was having the same mental breakdown.
I almost laughed.
Yeah, right. Braeden didn’t care about stuff like this. How many times had I heard him say it? He just had fun. He didn’t have feelings.
I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes.
How in the hell did he pull off no feelings after what just happened between us? Had everything I just experienced been totally one-sided?
Did it even matter?
He came out of the bathroom, leaving the light on but pulling the door around so the room was mostly still dark. The mattress dipped beneath his weight, and I felt him move close behind me.
Now that my body wasn’t taken over by some evil alien—evil alien = Braeden’s touch—my brain was fully comprehending the implications of what just happened.
When Braeden grasped my shoulder and tugged, I rolled onto my back but avoided his stare. The muffled chuckle over me made me want to punch him.
And maybe poke out his eyes with my fingers.
But then he did something totally unexpected.
His large, warm palm landed on my thigh, and he tugged so my legs fell open. Before I could kick him, I felt a soft, cool cloth between my legs.
Oh, it felt nice.
I glanced at him, surprised.
He wasn’t looking at me, but he smirked. “Didn’t expect that, did ya?”
It was the absolute last thing in the history of earth I expected.
“I know you don’t really need cleaned up,” he began, “since, you know, we used a condom.” How was he so totally comfortable talking about this with me? “But that was pretty intense. You’re kinda small.”
I gasped at the shock underlying his tone.
“And this surprises you?” I demanded.
He shrugged as he gently held the cool cloth between my legs. “Yeah. I guess it does.”
“I’m not a slut,” I deadpanned.
His white teeth flashed against the dark. “Never said you were.”
“Not in so many words,” I muttered.
“I just thought this might help,” he said, wisely avoiding the issue. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
I didn’t want to be affected by his consideration.
Yet I was.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I whispered.