Page 27 of Lilies in Autumn

“My greedy, sweet Ava,” he murmurs against my lips, pulling my head back to give him access to my neck. He licks me, tasting my skin with deceptive gentleness. “Do you feel how fucking hard you make me?” He grinds his hips against me, emphasizing how turned on he is right now. “I’m about to come in my boxers like a goddamn kid, vixen.” His lips descend, latching onto my pulse and sucking until I’m panting beneath him. His tongue and hands are everywhere, burning into me and branding me as his. The hand at my waist moves to my ass and he squeezes; our moans mix in the silence of the room.

“Grey, please. I need more.” He stops the ministrations at my throat, straightening to his full height. Maybe I should hide how needy I feel, play coy or aloof, and not like I’m in heat. But I can’t.

“Tell me what you need, baby.”

“I-I don’t know. I just need more. I need you.”

“Tell me, vixen. Has anyone ever touched your pretty pussy before?” I open my mouth, wondering if I should lie to him and claim experience that I don’t have. I’m not sure how he’ll feel about me if he realizes that the most I have ever done was make out. He does not need to know that I had to Google “How to Make Out” when I was sixteen because I still couldn’t understand the logistics.

Fuck it. If he doesn’t want me after learning I’m an inexperienced virgin, then it’s his loss.

“No, just me.” I blush, ducking my head in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, tilting my chin back up to look me in the eyes. If possible, his dick grows harder against my stomach from my admission.

“Vixen, do you have any idea how hot it is that you’re my untouched little good girl?” His fingers pinch my chin, popping my mouth open. “My wet dream, brought to life. I can’t wait to dirty you up, just for me.” I’m a panting mess, between his words, his mouth, and the hands that alternate between squeezing and caressing, I’m ready to hump his jean-clad leg just to feel release from the pressure building inside me.

“When you touch yourself, how many fingers do you put in your pussy? How many until you’re dripping down your hand?”

“Just one. I l-like playing with my clit.” He picks me up, turns to his king-sized bed, and deposits me in the center.

“Fuck,” he groans, dipping his head into the crook of my neck. He steps away from the bed, leaving me a panting mess.

“W-what?” I stammer.

“Fucking hell, vixen. We need to stop.” His voice comes out strained, like it’s taking Herculean effort to mutter those words. “If I get my hands on you, I’m going to fuck you and you’re not ready for that.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I-I,” I pause, collecting my thoughts. Clearing my throat, I continue, “So you’re going to work me up just to leave me on the edge?”

“I don’t fucking trust myself to touch you right now. But,” he gives me a lingering look, “you could show me.”

I let out a nervous laugh, positive that I imagined he just asked me to masturbate in front of him.

“I said, ‘Show me.’” He quirks an eyebrow, begging me to challenge him.

“Why do you want to see that?” I ask. His expression turns fierce, and he takes a seat in the armchair across the room.

“Why do I want to see you play with your wet, tight pussy? Because, vixen, I need to know what you like and how you like it. I need to know that I’m the only man that will see you this way, the only man that you can pleasure yourself in front of.” He leans forward, running a hand down his face. “I need to see you fuck yourself because it’s all I’ve thought about since Thursday night, and I need the memory of your hands spreading your cunt wide open for me like I need to fucking breathe.” He takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and do as I ask, or are we going to end this fantasy here?”

My mouth hangs open as I stare at him, wide-eyed and a little breathless. His words, so deliciously dirty, spur me into action. I thank God that I’m not wearing any shapewear today, not that I could have predicted this moment. I should probably take off my pants slowly, seductively, but I’m too turned on to drag this moment out. I rush through undressing the lower half and pause, looking at Grey for guidance.

“Take your shirt off, too.”

I hesitate; the room is bright and every large inch of me will be on display. “I’d rather leave it on.”

“And I’d rather see all of your perfect skin, vixen. I’m dying to see all of you. Please.” I weigh his words. From his angle on the chair, he’ll see everything I have to offer. Playing with the hem of my shirt, I consider his words and actions; he’s been forthcoming in how much he likes my body in my clothes, but would it disgust him to see every curve and mark outside of the confines of my clothes? If he is disgusted, wouldn’t it be better for me to learn that now before we become intimate, and I become emotionally invested? I nod my head, my resolve firm.

I pull my shirt over my head and lean forward to unhook the back clasp of my bra before dragging the straps down my arms.

He wants to see me? Well, here I am.

I draw in a breath, stealing myself for the possibility of Grey’s disappointment. When I look at Grey, disappointment and disgust seem to be the very last things on his mind. Gripping the arms of his chair, it’s like he’s physically restraining himself from coming to me. Another rush of desire runs through me, and for the first time, I feel like the vixen he claims I am.

“Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” he grits out. “Fucking Jesus, your body should be illegal.”

I smile, and I don’t even try to hide it from him. “Grey, tell me what to do. Tell me what you like.”

“No, vixen. Show me whatyoulike.”

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