Page 69 of Deceiving Grier

Grier stretched out on the bed, leaning back against the pillows. I climbed up beside him, leaned down and pressed my mouth to his in a hungry, desperate kiss.

“My God, you’re incredible,” I said, when I could finally tear my mouth free.

I reached over and grabbed the lube, slicked my fingers, and began opening myself up while Grier watched with hungry eyes.

“ShouldIbe doing that?” he asked, voice barely more than a rough whisper.

“Next time,” I promised, slipping a second finger inside myself.

I had to go slower than I would have liked. It had been a long time since I last bottomed, and while I couldn’t wait to feel Grier inside me, I wanted it to be good.

“Touch yourself,” I told him, and the hunger building inside me nearly swallowed me whole at the sight of him spread out before me while he stroked his swollen cock, precum weeping from the slit.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I straddled his hips and tore open the condom packet before rolling the rubber down his shaft.

“Fuck,” he whispered, as I positioned his cock against my hole and slowly lowered myself over him. Sweat beaded on my skin. His thick shaft stretched me, the burn intense but not unpleasant.

Once I’d taken him all the way in, I leaned forward over his hard-muscled chest, giving myself time to adjust to the feel of him inside. I could feel his body trembling beneath mine, the slight involuntary twitches of his hips.

“Holy god, Sawyer, please,” he groaned.

As if my body couldn’t help but respond to him, I started to move, slowly at first, riding his cock, then gradually gaining speed. Beneath me, Grier’s hips thrust tentatively, a thin whimper tearing from his parted lips.

He was like a drug. The more I got, the more he gave, the more I wanted.

I arched my back, adjusting the angle. White hot pleasure rolled through me, and Grier’s eyes popped open.

“Fuck,” he gasped. His good hand shot forward, so he could grip my ass, his fingers digging into the meat of my cheek.

“Fuck me,” I said, grinding down on him.

He thrusted his hips up, driving his cock deeper, following the rhythm I set. I moaned, my eyes nearly rolling back.

“I’m going to come,” he panted.

“Do it,” I said. “Come.”

While his hips thrust, slamming into me, I took my cock in hand and stroked it.

He tensed beneath me, hips thrusting up, driving his cock deeper as he came inside me. I followed almost instantly, coming with a shout, ropes of cum spattering Grier’s chest.

After the tension left his body and he sank back into the mattress, I collapsed over his chest. We laid like that for a while, each of us catching our breath. His fingers trailed up and down my spine. When I finally sat up, he lifted his head and pressed his mouth to mine. This was by no means a chaste kiss, nor was it filled with the same mindless passion from moments ago. It was almost sweet and heavy with emotion. My chest tightened, and Iknewat that moment I loved him, and there was no way in hell I could let Grier walk out of my life at the end of the school year.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Grier

Thedayofmyfather’s funeral dawned with clear, frigid blue skies and hard winter sun spilling over a dusting of early snow covering the ground. I looked out our hotel room window, watching a plane taking off from the nearby airport and wishing I was on it and headed back to Oregon.

Waking up next to Sawyer, his body curled around mine, arm draped over my waist, warm and content, I would have liked nothing more than to pull the covers over our heads and stay there all day. I wasn’t sure what I dreaded more, the service that would undoubtedly drive home that my father was truly gone, or after when I met with the lawyer, and my future in this place was cemented once and for all.

Intellectually, I knew Sawyer was right. I could say no. No one was holding a gun to my head, but it was what my dying father had wanted—turning his family’s legacy over to his only son. If I said no, I would be letting him down, my mother down, hell, generations of my whole family.

The only person who would probably be fine if I turned down my father’s legacy would be Fiona. I smirked. To be fair, it should have been hers all along.

“You ready to go?” Sawyer asked.

I turned away from the window and nodded. Sawyer looked good in his black suit, crisp white shirt and black tie. He’d tamed his over-long hair, combing the long strands back from his face so the ends brushed his jacket collar.

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