Page 90 of Resisting the Grump

It was too perfect. This moment. The way we fit together. The gentle way he wrecked me.

His thrusting was slow again. Deliberate. Like he wanted to drag the moment out too, and when his eyes met mine, there was something about the serious way he looked at me. It wasn’t just a mixture of hunger and happiness. There was a flicker of something else. Something that wasn’t there before.

“Oliver.”

His pace was measured, as if massaging me from the inside out felt as good for him as it did for me.

“What?”

I reached up and held his chiseled cheek in my hand, searching his eyes. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was that I’d stayed away. That I’d been so stubborn. That I’d tried to dismiss what we had because I was scared of the feelings that were overtaking me right now. But there was a lump in my throat, and it wasn’t the time. I knew it wasn’t the time. But he’d been hitting me so deep, for so long, and the pressure building in my body was overwhelming.

“What is it—”

A single tear rolled down my cheek. “I missed you.”

He stopped moving.

I swiped it away.

“Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “No.”

His face filled with concern, but he didn’t pull away.

“I’m way better than okay.”

His chest relaxed with obvious relief.

“You just… tickled my tear ducts.”

He squinted at me. “With my thrusting?”

I laughed, and my whole body pulsed around him as more tears squeezed out of my eyes. Holy shit, what was happening to me? “I’m okay,” I insisted again. “Really.”

His expression was a mixture of awe and amusement.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He pretended to think about it. “Solid nine out of ten.”

My mouth fell open. “What?!”

He laughed, and I realized he was only joking to help me forget my tears.

But as soon as he started thrusting, my tear ducts felt tickled again. “It’s fine, I swear,” I said, as more tears filled my eyes. “It’s just… I think the pleasure’s too much.”

He hooked an arm under one of my legs and bent it so he could hit me deeper, his eyes on mine.

I blinked so my vision wouldn’t be blurry, but my body couldn’t handle how good I felt. It was like he’d gotten me so wet the pleasure inside me had no choice but to flow out my eyes.

He sped up again, and each time he hit my molten core, I felt like crying. Like praying. Like wailing. No one had ever fucked me like this. No one had ever made me feel this deeply. I gasped for breath as a ball of heat grew like wildfire in my core. I was going to burst.

“Avery,” he growled, hitting me so deep I was suddenly made of light. “Come with me.”

“Yes,” I cried, arching my back as I pressed my head into the pillow behind me. I groaned as he cried out, the room and walls and world melting away as we came together before collapsing in a heap of hot skin and breathlessness.

He rolled onto his side, propped his head up on his hand, and looked at me.

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