Page 29 of Bread By the Grim
“I think I do.”
He grabs my wrists and holds them down to the bed as he presses into me in one slow smooth motion. We groan at the same time as I lift up to meet him. He leans between us and captures my breast with his mouth, his teeth sinking gently into the skin. I groan with the feeling of his warm breath on my flesh as his tongue plays with my nipple. He rocks into me, harder as he releases my breast and licks his way back up to his favorite spot, my neck.
The sound of his breathing is all I can hear, all I can focus on as his cock works its way in and out in a rhythm that grows faster and faster.
“Grim—” I cry out, not even sure what I’m asking for as the pressure in my core grows into something pleasurable. It radiates out through my entire lower half as he moves faster, the bed beginning to creak with each thrust of his hips.
He lowers his face closer to mine, and suddenlyI knowhe’s about to bite me. I can feel it in my bones. For once, I’m able to do what I’ve wanted to do this whole time—bite him back.
It’s a silly compulsion—biting is obviously important to Grim’s species—it’s not like he can even really control it, but humans don’t do that. Yet here I am, dying to sink my teeth into his flesh. My teeth aren’t likely to do much—I won’t leave him with a mating mark like he’s left me, but I can’t help biting the onlything I can reach in this position—the flesh of his upper arm as he leans over me.
Just as his teeth sink into me I reach up and dig my own into his flesh. It’s strangely satisfying to finally bite into him. He groans as I dig into his flesh, and suddenly I’m incredibly disoriented. Everything is spinning, and then I can see myself for a moment as if I’m above looking down, before it all goes away and all I can feel is the electricity of an orgasm that’s so close all I can do is hang on.
Grim’s teeth stay in me, but I can’t hang onto him. My mouth is far too small. I release him, and he growls. His movements grow jerkier, and I feel myself chasing the pleasure that grows stronger and stronger with each thrust until at last it feels like a dam breaking, and I’m screaming Grim’s name.
Everything in my lower body is spasming over and over, and it doesn’t want to stop. He pulls me close as I shake. I cannot let go of the uncanny feeling that I’m the one releasing the fluids that soaks the bed underneath us. It makes no sense, and yet at the same time, I don’t care. The room starts to spin, and suddenly everything is black.
I wake to Grim’s worried face, staring down at me.
“I’m not dying, Grim,” I mumble as I open my eyes.
Panic and doubt fill me, but I can’tfigure out why.
“You passed out,” he rumbles. “I was worried I’d?—”
“Hurt me? Killed me?” I shake my head. “You did say you wanted to break the bed.”
He rolls his eyes.
Why isn’t she taking this more seriously?
“Why isn’t who taking this more seriously?” I ask aloud, repeating the thought that just crossed my mind.
“You,” Grim rumbles. “It’s obviously?—”
“—not safe for us to have sex while you’re in your gremlin?” I finish.
He looks annoyed. “How did you—” he starts and then closes his mouth.
“I’ve totally messed up everything now. I should have believed the doctor?—”
It’s not my thought, I realize. It’s someone else’s thought. I meet Grim’s eyes. “I think I can hear your thoughts. What did the doctor say?”
“Fuck.”
“What aren’t you telling me Grim?”
A million emotions pass through Grim—fear being the strongest—but underneath is something that makes me sad. There, underneath it all, is this feeling of not being good enough.
“He said there was a possibility we could bond. Some shifters do?—”
I don’t let him finish the sentence before I’ve tackled him to the bed. “We’rebonded? Hold on, let me see if it works the other way around.” I straddle him, close my eyes, and picture myself sucking his cock. Not a quiet, calm blow job either, but a sexy, messy, sloppy blow job with every sound I could possibly imagine. I feel him twitch underneath me and open my eyes with a laugh.
“It works. You could see that, couldn’t you?”
Grim nods and grabs my hands, the look of worry still on his face. “Phil, this means we’re?—”
I roll my eyes. “Stop using the word stuck, Grim. We’re bonded! We should celebrate. With food and more sex.”
