Page 96 of Broken Dreams
Grady pulls the fabric up and then dips down, lifting me so my legs wrap around his waist. He moves us to the bed, stopping before it and standing me up. “Turn around, dove.”
I move, my back to his front, and I feel the loss of heat as he steps back. His hands are at my neck, massaging slowly, and then they move lower. Then I feel him tug at my dress and the sound of the zipper sliding is the only thing I hear.
This is happening.
His lips are right where my shoulder meets my neck and I close my eyes when I feel the heat of his tongue.
“Grady,” I sigh his name.
“Where do you want me to kiss you, Addison?”
I grit my teeth and force myself to be brave. “My neck.”
“Good choice,” he murmurs and then kisses there. “Where else?”
“My mouth,” I say, wanting to kiss him so badly.
He turns my head, keeping my back to him, and kisses me hard. His tongue thrusts in my mouth, pushing against mine in the hottest kiss I’ve ever had. The heat rises in me as his hands cup my breasts, pinching my nipples gently.
I want his mouth there. I want his mouth everywhere.
I break away, needing to catch my breath, and then his fingers are at the straps of my dress. “I’m going to take this off you, watch the red silk pool at the floor, and then I’m going to lay you down and wait for you to tell me where to kiss you next.”
So I have a few seconds to come up with the ability to form words. Good.
Sure enough, the straps fall to my elbows, then my wrists as the fabric falls away and to the floor. I’m naked and vulnerable, but at the same time, I feel safe.
Grady didn’t ask for this, I did, and he’s giving me the power in so many ways.
Instead of waiting for him to tell me what to do, I turn to face him, allowing him to drink me in.
“I thought you were exquisite before, but I didn’t know the meaning of the word until now.”
I can’t stop the smile that forms and I lift my hand, hating that I’m naked and I can’t see any of him.
“You asked me what I want?”
“Yes.”
“I want to see you—all of you.”
He shucks his jacket off, tossing it to the chair, and then starts to unbutton his shirt, but I stop him. My fingers move to the buttons and start to do it myself. However, he doesn’t just stand there and let me do it, instead, his hand lifts to my chest, trailing his knuckles from my belly up to my breast. I miss a button, my body trembling as he touches me.
There is a devilish gleam in his eyes, and I let out a sigh, frustrated and desperate, and grab the two hems and rip it open.
“Fuck,” he groans and then his hands are in my hair, tipping my head up to meet his lips. He kisses me hard, as though I tore more than just his shirt. The restraint from the first kiss is gone. This one is rough, primal, and I never want it to stop.
Grady doesn’t treat me like glass, he’s willing to risk breaking a piece and cutting himself as he takes and also gives.
I manage to tear my lips away, breathing heavy and loving the red stain on his mouth from mine.
“I want to touch you.”
He pulls the shirt off and the undershirt over his head by doing that manly one-arm thing. His chest is bare and I gasp. I thought I knew he worked out, but this is beyond what I imagined. There are ridges, valleys, and peaks of muscle everywhere. He looks like he’s chiseled from stone. His hand moves to his pants, unbuttoning and then lowering the zipper. They hang there waiting to fall free.
“If you want to touch, then touch, Addison.”
His raspy voice travels straight to my core and I clench my muscles.
