Page 51 of My Secret Santa Clayton

She hummed in response, sending vibrations through me that nearly broke my resolve. The tension grew, every muscle in my body stood on edge, waiting for release.

“Grace,” I groaned. That name scorched me, owned me.

She paused and lifted her gaze to mine, holding me captive without a word. She took me deep, her lips tight against me, every inch glistening. “Damn,” I breathed, staring down and locking eyes with her.

I held her there, my hands gripping her hair, the world narrowing down to the heat of her mouth on me. My hips jerked forward without my approval, a raw response I couldn't control. Her touch, her warmth, it was all too much. The need to bury myself inside her became an ache that hollowed out my gut.

I took her arms and pulled her off of my cock, the two of us stumbling closer to the bed as we tore at my remaining clothes. I couldn’t stop kissing her, not even as we fell to the bed, Grace beneath me.

I wanted to fuck her, I wanted it bad.

But I needed to do this first.

I parted her legs, big hands on her creamy thighs. I dipped my head down, tongue tracing the softness between her thighs. She tasted like sin and salvation, and I feasted on her.

“More,” Grace breathed, her voice coming from somewhere far above me.

“Patience,” I growled against her. “Just feel.”

Grace gasped, her back arching off the bed as my tongue found that sweet spot along her folds. Her hands clutched at the sheets, knuckles white.

“Right there,” she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

I hummed against her as I tasted her, the flavor of her arousal mingling with the winter scents of woodsmoke and snow.

“Clay,” she said. “Don't stop.”

I wasn’t planning on it. I wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, not when every part of me was attuned to her reactions—the way her body shivered, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the soft moans that filled the room.

I slid two fingers inside her, the rhythm set by her body's quaking. She moaned and threw her head back as I kept up the pressure with my tongue.

“Clay,” she whimpered, and her voice cut through me. “I need you to fuck me.”

Her plea sent a jolt straight to my core, and I rocked my hips against the bed seeking some relief. I wanted to drive her over the edge with just my mouth and hands, but the urgency in her voice was too much.

I couldn't wait any longer.

I pulled my mouth away from her, my breaths heavy and ragged as I crawled up her body. I cradled her face in my hands and met her lips with mine, a demanding kiss that said everything words couldn't. My cock found her, pressing at the warmth between her thighs.

“Give it to me, Clay,” she breathed against my lips, her legs wrapping around my waist with an urgency that spurred me forward.

I entered her slowly, feeling her stretch to accommodate me. She clung to me, her nails biting into my skin as she let out a soft moan. I felt every twitch of her inner walls, every spasm, every groan.

“Grace,” I gasped. “Tell me what you need.”

“More,” she whispered, pulling me closer, her legs tightening their hold. “I need more of you.”

I kissed her, groaned into her mouth, the taste of her intoxicating. I moved inside her slow and steady, each inch a rediscovery of what I'd been missing for years.

“God,” she gasped when I almost pulled out completely before driving back into her warmth. “You feel so good...”

“Keep talking like that, and I won't last long,” I admitted, my movements deliberate as I watched her face soften, those defenses she wore like armor falling away with every thrust.

My heart hammered against my ribs, every beat syncing with the rhythm of our bodies. I continued to move inside her, each thrust punctuated by the slap of skin on skin, our gasps and moans harmonizing in the dim light of the room. I was getting faster, couldn’t help it. The sensation of her tightness nearly overwhelmed me; it felt like we were molded for each other—two halves of a whole reunited at last.

“Look at you,” I murmured, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her eyes closed. “So perfect. So beautiful.”

“Clay,” she breathed out, her voice strained with the waves of sensation that I could see washing over her. “Don't stop.”

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