Page 37 of Roaring Flames

Grayson reaches for the clasp of my bra, and I suck in a sharp breath, even as anticipation swells.

His hand pauses there, waiting, hesitant, and then he whispers, “Is this okay?”

My lust amplifies, tinged with desperation. “Yes.”

Grayson’s fingers tremble as he removes my bra and tosses it to the floor. For a long moment, he simply stares at me, his eyes smoldering with emotions I can’t quite put my finger on, not with my brain as rattled as it is.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Izzy.”

Heat enters both of my cheeks as my heart pounds dauntingly against my rib cage. I want to cover myself, to hide from his penetrating stare.

But I don’t.

Instead, I meet his gaze unblinkingly, desperate to feel his hands on my flesh.

“So are you,” I confess, once again trailing my gaze over him.

His dark hair is messy from my fingers, and his cheeks are flushed with arousal. Seeing him like this fuels my lust to levels I can’t even articulate with words.

I remember when he told me he loves me. At the time, I didn’t believe it—didn’t allow myself to even entertain the possibility.

Now, it’s all I can think about.

Grayson Grey loves me.

Helovesme.

Grayson shifts our positions and then begins to kiss down my body—stopping to lavish each of my breasts with attention, his tongue circling my peaked nipples—but pauses when he reaches the waistband of my pants. There, he hesitates, his eyes burning with emotion.

In answer to his silent question, I buck my hips upwards in a wordless plea.

He slowly slides my leggings down my legs, and then my panties. When he discards both articles of clothing on the floor, he settles his muscular body between my legs, his eyes zeroing in on my core.

“Fuck, Grayson…”

He plants a chaste kiss to my most sensitive area. “Shush, woman. Do you know how often I’ve dreamed about this? Let me savor the moment.”

“Savor my pussy, you mean?” I drawl with an insouciant grin.

“If the shoe fits…”

“Don’t you mean if the cock fits?”

“Naughty girl. Get your head out of the gutter.”

“Kind of hard to do when your— Oh!” I cry out as Grayson licks up the seam of my pussy lips.

“Huh.” He pulls away marginally, his lips glistening with the evidence of my arousal. “I suppose that’s one way to shut you up.”

“You’re a dick,” I murmur, but the words don’t hold any anger. If anything, they’re tinged with desperation.

I reach for Grayson’s dark hair and grip the strands tightly, guiding him back to where I want him.

His chuckle feels fucking amazing against my oversensitive pussy.

And then Grayson’s amusement dwindles, and he laps at me like a man possessed.

I buck and writhe like mad, practically arching my spine on the bed. Grayson adds a thick finger, and I swear I see stars.

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