Page 48 of Nanny for Grumpy Grant
I reach for him, my hand sliding down his chest, over the ridges of his abs, to the waistband of his underwear. "My turn."
I tug at the waistband of his briefs and pull. I gasp at the sight of him—hard, thick, and longer than I anticipated. The need to touch him, to taste him, is suddenly overwhelming.
I sit up, shifting our positions so I can access him better. Cole watches me with hooded eyes as I wrap my hand around his shaft, feeling the velvet skin stretched tight over hardness. He's warm in my palm, pulsing slightly with his heartbeat.
"You don't have to," he says, his voice strained.
I look up at him through my lashes. "I have to," I say, my voice husky with desire. "It would be criminal not to."
Before he can respond, I lower my head and take him into my mouth. The weight of him on my tongue, the salt-sweet taste of his skin, makes me moan. I start slowly, exploring the ridge beneath the head, the sensitive spot just below, learning what makes his breath catch.
Cole's hand finds my hair, not guiding, just resting there as if to ground himself. I take him deeper, relaxing my throat to accommodate his size. It's a stretch that borders on painful, but the groan that escapes him makes it worth it. His thighs tense beneath my hands as I establish a rhythm, taking him as deep as I can before retreating, my tongue swirling around the head before plunging down again.
"God, Ivy," he breathes, his fingers tightening in my hair. "Your mouth is incredible."
The praise spurs me on. I hollow my cheeks, increasing the suction as I move up and down his length. My jaw aches from the effort of taking him, but I don't slow down. There's something intoxicating about having this strong, confident man at my mercy, about feeling him throb against my tongue, about knowing I'm the source of the pleasure evident in every tense muscle of his body.
I could continue like this, bring him to completion this way, but the ache between my legs has become unbearable. I need him inside me, need to feel the stretch and fullness that only he can provide now. Reluctantly, I release him, pressing a final kiss to the tip before looking up.
"I need you," I say simply, my voice rough from the effort of taking him so deep.
Cole's eyes are nearly black with desire, just a thin ring of amber visible around his dilated pupils. He reaches into the nightstand drawer, retrieving a condom. I watch as he tears open the packet and rolls it onto his length with practiced ease.
He moves between my legs, kneeling there, his cock in hand. He slides the length of it along my folds a few times, coating himself in my wetness. The sensation makes me squirm, eager for more. When he positions the head at my entrance, our eyes lock.
"Ready?" he asks.
"More than," I answer.
Cole pushes forward slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The stretch is exquisite—a burning fullness that borders on too much but never quite crosses that line. I breathe through it, relaxing to allow him deeper. When he's fully seated inside me, both of us pause, adjusting to the sensation.
A smile spreads across my face, mirrored by his own. "How is it?" he asks, his voice tight with the effort of holding still.
"Perfect," I whisper, meaning it. "Now, more, please."
"Needy girl," he says with a small laugh, and then he begins to move.
His strokes start slow and shallow, but soon he's picking up the pace, driving deeper with each thrust. I meet him halfway, lifting my hips to take him to the hilt each time. The sound of our bodies meeting fills the room, a rhythmic slapping punctuated by our increasingly labored breaths.
"God, I needed this," I gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside me.
Cole's laugh is breathless. "Lucky me," he says, his hands gripping my hips to angle me just right. "The most beautiful woman in Silvercreek in my bed."
I roll my eyes even as pleasure builds within me. "You know how to sweet-talk."
"Don't you love my sweet talk?" he asks, punctuating the question with a particularly deep thrust that makes me cry out.
"I do," I admit, "but I want dirty talk too."
His eyes spark with mischief, and he leans closer, his lips nearly touching my ear. "You want me to tell you how good you feel?" he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "How tight and wet you are around my cock? How I've thought about fucking you like this for years?"
His words send a fresh wave of heat through me. I moan in response, unable to form coherent words as he continues to move inside me.
"Or maybe you want to hear how I'm going to make you come again," he continues, his breath hot against my neck. "How I'm going to feel you squeeze my cock when you do. How I'm going to fill you up after."
His thrusts grow harder, deeper, and I feel myself getting wetter with each filthy promise he whispers. The tension builds in my core, a tightening coil of pleasure that threatens to snap at any moment.
Cole's rhythm falters slightly, and I can tell he's close too. His cock seems to grow even harder inside me, stretchingme further. The slight pain mingles with pleasure, creating a sensation so intense I can barely breathe through it.
