Chapter 55 Confused (7)
Lily's POV
There was something odd about the way Bradley kissed me. His lips once forceful were harsh, subtle, and questioning. His eyes which held a glint of desire also had in them so many questions.
"Let's go to my place," he resumed kissing me.
"Okay, okay. If you insist, I have to pick some clothes for tomorrow. I know you're worried about Bob," I tried a deep throaty laugh.
His brows arched. "So, it's Bob now, huh?"
I couldn't tell if his tone was sarcastic or if he was merely playing the jealous boyfriend. Was he jealous that I was mentioning his brother's name?
I slapped him playfully on his chest, turned to my door, and unlocked it. He didn't follow me, that was unlike him. Bradley had been hovering around me throughout our date, he had everyone who cared to listen that he was in love with me. Afterwards, he insisted we make out in a cozy hotel which I found enjoyable.
Now, he was back because he was worried about Bobby. The same Bob whom he had praised while we were together and had pointed out great qualities he possessed so I could squash the negative memories I held of him.
I returned with a bigger bag, and he took my hand. He was quiet even as he made me dinner. But the utensils suffered much from his silent fury. They clanged and clattered, stumbling to the floor to my dismay.
"I didn't ask you to cook me dinner. What making you pissed?" I asked him.
"Just eat," his tone was hard and coarse. After seeing that I wasn't taking the plate of spaghetti from him, he placed it aside.
With a startled and shaky hand, I reached out to him and pulled him close, wiping the skin close to the lids of his eyes. "What happened to you here? Your lips as well are bruised." I noted.
"It's nothing," he turned away from me.
"Nothing?" I sprang up from my chair, the chair shuffled behind me.
"I don't understand what's going on, Bradley. You took me out on a date, made sweet, undying love to me...," I paused as I noticed he flinched in that instant.
"I'm beginning to think you are Bobby." I released a sigh.
He faced me, pulling me close while his head rested on my bosom. "Why the switch of character, or are you not Bradley?" My fingers went under his chin to tilt his head.
"I am Bradley. I am Bradley," he coaxed softly.
"I want the same sweet Bradley. What happened to you? Look at your face, did Bobby do this to you?" I questioned.
He shook his head in negation. "I'm just angered at some things that happened. Having you around me is soothing enough."
My gaze prodded him to say more, instead, he circled his hands around me, resting his head on my breasts.
"It's alright if you don't feel like saying anything. I'm here to soothe your heavy heart," I touched his head.
"You're breathing hard, Lily." He told me.
"That's because you're close to me, Bradley," my breasts rose and fell.
As my hands played with his tussled hair, his hands began to cup my breasts. His head jerked up, holding my eyes in an intense gaze as he cupped them firmly.
"I want to be your man, Lily. And I want you to always be mine," he found my nipples, tugging them through my cotton top.
My breath began to hitch as he dug his hands underneath my blouse to find my orbs. His touch was gentle, unlike the previous times. When he kissed me again, he groaned with an intense yearning.
That groan of his.
The way he held me.
It felt so new yet so thrilling.
"Let me be the only one to love you, Lily," his tongue found my nubs, licking and biting each to be swollen.
Sweetly, he undressed me while on the dining table and wrapped my feet around me as he pushed his staff inside me.
I moaned, squealing in much delight as his thrust slowly mingled with love and affection. And whilst our bodies meshed in the heat of the passion, I held unto his hard buttocks.
He cupped my breasts again, kissing me as his lips found me. "Let me be your man, Lily." He said, "I love you so much," he added.
"You are my man," I whispered to his ears.
His thrusts intensified, jamming into me without a break. It was as if a switch in him had been turned on. I wrenched my head backward as my body erupted in a fit of shaky orgasm. I clung to him, moaning while trying to whimper out from his furious hammering.
He wouldn't let go.
He continued, persistent to have all of me. His hand wandered across my breasts, down to the joint where our fluids mingled, and he rammed on.
Somehow, I felt someone was watching us but I couldn't tell. I was convulsing again, my eyes half closed to the sweet torture that I was exposed to.
"Lily," he groaned, "my Lily."
He was fucking me with every fiber in him, owning my body as much as he was taking me on a dutiful ride.
"Bradley, Bradley, Bradley," I called out repeatedly as sweat began to cover us.
His mouth circled the nape of my neck and the swell of my cleavages. "Lily," he groaned.
This lovemaking was different. It was like he possessed me -owned me. Why did I feel that he was so different from the man who had made love to me earlier in the day?
"Bradley, someone is watching us," I let out a muffled squeak.
"There's no one watching us," he resumed his hard thrusts, and I swear I would die from his utter rapture of my body.
He continued, riding and hugging
me as if by so doing, he would be able to plunge the rest of my hidden sweetness. I let him take me by the storm. When he did come, he pulled out, a thing he never would have done.