Read Online Cockney: A Stepbrother Romance by Aubrey Irons - Free Book Online Page A

pressing against me too, actually.
     
    I swallow thickly, “I’ve- I’ve got it now.”
     
    “Do you?” He murmurs.
     
    “Mhmm.”
     
    But we’re still moving the whisk together, his hand over mine and our bodies moving together almost imperceptibly side to side as he guides my hand.
     
    And I don’t want him to stop just yet.
     
    I blush, knowing that hardness I can feel pressing into my ass is his cock growing rock hard against me, and feeling how, well, not small , that bulge is has me biting my lips. It has me questioning what it is we’re doing here and why I’m not pushing him away.
     
    He leans in closer to me, his breath a warm tickle against my neck. I bite my lip, letting my eyes close for just a second as I let the fact that Oliver Beckett has one hand on my hip, the other on my hand, and his erection pressed firmly against my ass.
     
    “You smell good, you know,” he murmurs, that accent melting over me.
     
    I take a shaky breath, “Don’t.”
     
    I can practically feel him smirk behind me, “Don’t what.”
     
    “Smell me. I’ve been working all night, I’m gross.”
     
    “Well you smell fantastic to me.”
     
    My heart starts to race, and I feel my breath catch as the hand on my hip begins to circle around to my front, slowly pulling me back into him. “Oliver, we shouldn’t,” I say quietly, my eyes closing just a little as I let myself be pulled against him. Why does it have to feel so good?
     
    “Shouldn’t what.”
     
    “Do this .”
     
    “And what exactly are we doing, Chloe?” He growls into my ear.
     
    I have no idea, but I don’t really want to stop doing it.
     
    Instead, I open my mouth, “So what do I smell like?”
     
    “Like cookies.”
     
    I laugh and start to turn, but he keeps me hard again the table, and I gasp at the feel of him as he presses his hardness right against me. 
     
    “No, you smell like jasmine, from your shampoo. And you smell like sage from the stuffing you made earlier.”
     
    I bite my lip and close my eyes, the movement of the whisk slowing and then stopping as I feel him lean into my neck, his lips just shy of touching me as he all but nuzzles the curve of my shoulder.
     
    Oh my god what are we doing?
     
    “You smell fantastic, actually,” he says, rocking his hips into me, the bulge pressing hotly against my ass and those strong arms sliding around my waist. And I’m trembling for him. I hate that this cocky, arrogant little shit is having this effect on me, but it’s undeniable. 
     
    It’s undeniable that I’m absolutely soaked for him.
     
    “Fantastic, huh?”
     
    “Lovely, actually,” he murmurs, and this time I shiver as I feel his lips graze the side of my neck just under my jawline.
     
    “Oliver...”
     
    “But I’d wager something else smells even better right now,” he says darkly, his arms pulling me tight against him as we start to drop all pretense of him being here to help me bake. 
     
    “Something else that I bet smells like honey and smells like you’re as hot for this as I bet you are.”
     
    “You’re delusional,” I whisper.
     
    “Am I?”
     
    “Mhmm,” I manage to croak out, feeling my body begin to betray me more and more by the second. “I’m not hot for... oh God- ”
     
    His lips slide across my collarbone and up to the delicate skin of my neck, and then I’m actually moaning as I sag into him with a whimper.
     
    God , I’m whimpering . When the hell have I ever whimpered for anything?
     
    “Please; you’re so hot for me I can practically smell you right now, luv.”
     
    I groan as I feel his teeth just barely graze my skin; nipping me enough that I let out a small gasp, my hands dropping to grab at the countertop in front of me. 
     
    “You are such an arrogant prick, you know.”
     
    “Sweetheart, you’ve got no idea,” he husks into my ear, “but if you want, I can show you a lot more of my prick than that.”
     
    God he’s so crude, and yet