Page 14 of Falling for Grace

He is making this impossible.

“What do you want, Brandon?” I know what he wants, I’ve seen that look in his eyes a thousand times. He’s just staring at me.

Watching me, sizing me up.

The air gets stuffy as pheromones race between us.

I want him.

So bad.

And he wants me. I can see it in his eyes.

“Girlfriend?” I bite the word out, as my heartrate increases.

“None.”

I take one step as he takes one toward me. We clash in the middle. Our lips crash together.

A year of pent-up lust explodes in a messy outpouring of kissing, touching, pulling and devouring.

We’re hungry, and he owns me.

He grabs hold of my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh before he grabs my ass, lifting me up as he pushes me into the cupboard door. My legs wrap around his waist so that I have more support, although I know that his strength will hold me in place and he won’t drop me. Not like when we had tried this as teenagers and his upper body strength was close to zero.

“Brandon,” I gasp as he opens my shirt and pulls my top roughly down to get to my nipple. I cry out as he sucks at it harshly.

“I know.” His gaze blazes at me.

“We shouldn’t,” I say, even though my body is arching into him and my hands are in his hair, pulling at the roots.

“I know.”

“This doesn’t,” I gasp out again as he sucks my hard nipple back into his mouth, “change anything.”

“I know,” he growls and grabs at my white jeans, unbuckling the belt. I unwrap my legs from him, and he takes the sign, roughly pulling the jeans down. All the while my hands attack his trousers, pulling and tugging as my lips leave trails of kisses on his jaw and neck.

There isn’t anything romantic or loving in this exchange.

This is primal, it’s a desperate last-ditch attempt to get everything out of the other before it ends.

This is the last time.

Our last time.

I pull my jeans down the rest of the way and watch as he takes over and does the same to his. The whole time our eyes are locked. As soon as he’s free I grab at him. He hisses through his teeth as I take his smooth length in my hand and run it up his shaft. My thumb caresses the top, feeling the bead of liquid.

He pushes me back up against the cupboard and my legs go back to his waist. He is naked from the bottom down, as am I, but we remain clothed on top, one of my boobs haphazardly sticking out from my top, where he now diverts his attention. He sucks the bud in between his lips as he pushes two fingers inside me. I clench my eyes shut at the burst of pleasure that radiates through my body. I can’t stop a groan from escaping.

“You need to be quiet,” he says, placing a hand over my mouth. I whimper into the palm of his hand as he continues to drive his fingers in and out. It’s too much, the feeling of him sucking on my nipple, his fingers inside touching that deliriously beautiful spot, his thumb on the outside rubbing at the bundle of nerves.

I’m building, but I’m not ready to fall yet.

I take his mouth with mine. My hand is still around his girth, and I shift myself so that the tip is resting at my entrance, his hands moving from inside me as the head is now perched there.

“Do it,” I demand, biting at his lip.

He slams into me.

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