Page 88 of Vengeful Secret

I gasp out his name, and he pulls his hand away from me so quickly I nearly choke on my own moan.

“Uh-uh,” he scolds. “You don’t get to come until I do,a ghrá.”

I spread my legs further, grabbing at his ass, and Gray chuckles.

“Fuck me,” I whisper. “Come on, Gray.”

“Eager,” His voice is harsh, his eyes full of love as he slides into me.

“Always for you,” I manage, my voice sounding thin as my eyes roll into the back of my head.

Gray pumps in and out of me with barely any rhythm, clearly chasing his orgasm as he pants, losing his breath as he gets close.

God, I love this.I lovehim.

I want to say it, scream it from the rooftops, but I know we’re not there yet, and I don’t want to ruin this wonderful moment.

Instead, I just curse and moan his name, coming around him, clenching as hard as I can because I know he loves the feeling.

Gray’s thrusts stutter as I come around him, and he spills inside of me with a long groan and a deep kiss, pushing his tongue between my lips.

I moan back, sucking on his tongue.

“Jesus Christ,” Gray says, and I chuckle against his mouth.

“That may have been the best sex we ever had,” I muse, and Gray shakes his head.

“Not quite. The best was that night we spent in that hotel in the city.” He pauses. “You know what, I think you were drinking champagne then, too.”

I laugh out loud. “Champagne makes me better at sex?”

“Or makes you want it more.” He chuckles. “Either way, I’m not complaining.”

He pulls out of me, and I whine a bit until he pulls me into his arms.

“How was Ciara tonight? Did she ask for me at bedtime?”

He shakes his head. “She was just happy with her Da.”

I smile. “She loves you so much already.”

“I love her, too. I can’t tell you how much.”

“I know,” I say softly. “It’s like my heart just walks around outside my body.”

His eyes widen as he looks down at me. “That’s exactly what it’s like. It feels like something’s missing when she’s not around. I miss her even when she’s at school.”

I snuggle up closer to him. “Thank you, Gray.”

He tilts his head. “Thank you? For what?”

“Everything,” I say fiercely. “For helping us, protecting us. For saving me the other night. For loving Ciara so much and forgiving me for keeping her from you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that. It’s like breathing, loving…” He trails off. “Loving her.”

Loving me? Was that what he was going to say?

I swallow hard, but I don’t ask for clarification. It’s enough. This is enough.

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