My Brothers Best Friend [18+]

24.5

*whole ch of... mature content.*

"Didn't you say you'd bend me over this couch?"

He visibly swallows, fingers twitching by his sides.

"I think it's about time you made good on your word."

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

People are easily seduced. A tight shirt; a short skirt; a flash of skin that shouldn't be seen. It's all the same. It's an art form really, although one that becomes significantly easier once you learn the signs of someone's attraction towards you. 

University definitely prepared me well - all short skirts have the same effect on people who already have a thing for you. 

I didn't expect Noah to react like this though. Call it presumptuous, but I thought someone with looks as good as his would be immune. I expected the usual smirk and a dismissive eye roll, but instead I'm really affecting him. 

He's biting his fingers, his lips - glazed eyes flicking over me like shooting stars. 

"I don't - I can't -" 

"What?" 

My lips are pursed, voice babyish, mocking.

Noah is already hardening up where he's stood, I can see the outline as clear as day, pressed against his leg when it should be pressed against me. He stutters in front of me. 

I'm almost taken aback by the reaction I didn't expect. 

"Maybe you're the shy one." 

His face lights up without confirming or denying the comment, line of vision still between my spread legs. I spread them apart a little further, slipping down the couch. 

His hands curl up. 

"You do that a lot when your frustrated, you know." 

"Do what?" 

"Tighten your grip." 

His fingers release. He swallows visibly and takes a small step towards me. I pout when he leans back against the counter once more, shaking his head. 

"Your fucking brother is upstairs," he whispers, voice strained and desperate, as gruff as the last time I turned him on. It's my favourite way of hearing Noah talk - especially when he finally lets go of his morals and gives into it. "Seriously." 

I shrug, flick through the channels. 

Mindlessly I stretch my arms above my head, feeling my nipples rub against the cotton of my shirt. His eyes set me alight. 

I run my fingers up my thigh, pushing the skirt with it, and then smooth it back into place. 

One glance tells me he's readjusted himself, but is still just as hard. It points up to his naval now, drawing my attention to the fact that he's undone his drawstring. One step closer. 

A new nature programme is on channel 4. I pretend I have an interest in a tropical bird that's at danger of becoming a protected species. 

I pretend I don't feel Noah staring between my legs, at my chest, at my calm and collected expression. I pretend I'm not fucking soaking waiting for him to make a move.

Maybe I should tell him as much to speed the process along. 

"We shouldn't do this here." 

"We shouldn't do this anywhere," I retort, "and I'm not doing anything."