Page 95 of Grim

A torturous groan vibrated through his chest when I took him in my hand and began to stroke up and down his hard, rigid shaft. His fingers clamped around the edge of the dresser, and his eyes shut when I brushed my tongue across the head of his dick.

“Fuck,” he mumbled as I took him deep in my mouth. I continued to stroke him slowly, with my fingers wound tightly around his cock, feeling him throb against my tongue. His fingers tangled in my hair as his hips thrust forward, guiding me to take him deeper.

I loved seeing how his body responded to my touch. It gave me such a sense of power. The thought of making this man lose control with just my mouth exhilarated me, fueled my desire, and made me want him even more. With just the twist of my hand, a guttural moan echoed through the room, and a pained expression crossed his face.

I could feel him pulsing beneath my fingertips. He was getting close, really close, and I was shocked when I was suddenly yanked up from the floor and carried over to the bed. He dropped me, with my back lying flat against the mattress.

He didn’t say a word.

He didn’t have to. I knew what he wanted.

He lowered his hands to the waistband of my jeans and unfastened the button before slowly lowering them down my legs. I could tell by the hungry look in his eyes that he was in the mood for taking, and I was good with that. He could take whatever he needed, and more, and that’s exactly what he did. He took into the wee hours of the morning, and by the time he was done, I was weak-kneed and fully sated.

I was also absolutely, positively, madly in love.

And I was happy.

Truly happy.

My man does not disappoint.

Epilogue

Grim

Christmas- One Year Later

I could feel them watching me.

I knew they were worried about me.

They had every right to be. Hell, it was Christmas. I should’ve been home in Little Rock, spending the day with my brothers. Instead, I was in Washington, sitting in the back corner of the Fury clubhouse, and I was downing one drink after the next. I was trying to make myself forget. I wasn’t being all that successful.

It had been a year.

Maybe it was the holidays or just the fact that it was the anniversary of his death, but I couldn’t get Beckett out of my head. The memories were weighing on me and being around Preacher and Memphis only made it worse. I couldn’t imagine how they were doing with it. I had no doubt it was rough spending their first Christmas without him, and that only made me feel worse. I’d gone to Washington in hopes of escaping it all.

I figured the Washington boys would understand.

They knew there was nothing worse than the sting of losing someone you cared about. That shit comes with a sting you won’t forget. We all had blood on our hands and had to live with the guilt of that, but this was different for me.

My guilt ran deeper. It ate at me like rust on a nail. Hell, even after all this time, I was still trying to make peace with what happened. I couldn’t get over the fact that I’d failed. I’d failed my club and my president.

But most of all, I’d failed myself.

I could spend the entire day drinking, but I would never forget that.

It haunted me, and it always would.

I was about to grab another beer from the cooler when I spotted Jenna and Luna walking towards me. The second Luna saw a clear path, she darted towards me and lunged into my lap. She slipped her arms around my neck as she announced, “Momma said it’s time to go.”

“She did, did she?”

“Um-hmm.” Luna nodded. “She said we need to go get on the plane.”

“We got a little time before we do that.”

“Actually...” Jenna held out her watch so I could see. “We should leave in about fifteen if we wanna make our flight back home.”

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