Page 27 of Grind
Even though it’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done, I pull back just long enough to grind out, “That’s a yes?”
“Yes.” She’s leaning up to kiss me again.
Grabbing her around the waist, I lift her up easily and she instinctively wraps her legs around me. Hell, yes. I close the distance to the bedroom in a few strides and kick the door shut behind me.
I lower her onto the bed as gently as I can. Leaning over her, my lips work their way down her throat, skimming her collarbone, her breasts. My hands slide down her beautiful curves and find the hem of her dress to push it up. I want her out of this damn thing so I can see her.
My cock twitches, ready for action. Christ.
Slow it down, Doyle. I’m hard as a rock and all systems are go. But that’s not what this is about tonight.
Soon, the dress is off. Thank god. She’s on the bed, her hair tousled and the lines of her face cast in shadow. Somehow, she’s even more delicious than I imagined.
My fingers slide under the hem of her panties, and I look up into her eyes to check in.Yes?
She moans, so I keep going, sliding them down her thighs and over her ankles onto the floor. She’s arching toward me, and that’s all the encouragement I need.
I’m kissing my way down her breasts, over her stomach, and lower. My hands slide up to touch her bare ass, and then up around her thighs to pull them apart. Wide apart. She gasps a little, but I want to see her. Really want to make her feel good.
Every inch of her is fucking beautiful.
My face is between her thighs, letting her pussy touch my lips. She tastes sweet, and I can’t get enough. My tongue pushes deep, and I drag my tongue up and down her lips. With each motion, her breathing is more rapid, catching. Little moans escape her, and I keep going, loving every response she gives to my touch.
Her eyes are closed, her mouth open in an expression of pure pleasure. I want her to feel good. Nothing but pleasure crashing down in waves until it drowns out everything else. Heat fills me as I imagine being buried inside her, riding those waves of pleasure together.
An almost primal sound comes out raw from the back of my throat. Her pleasure, her desire, the way our bodies move together. It’s turning me on and leaving it hard to focus.
But there’s only one thing that matters. Ava. Her pleasure. For her to feel good, feel safe, feel beautiful.
Her hips arch, and she presses herself against me. “Yes, Connor, there.” I find her clit with my mouth, swirling around it and dragging my tongue across it over and over again. Moving slow, letting the pleasure build without tipping her over the edge. She’s moaning, pushing against me. Her hands have moved up to her nipples.
Fuck, yes.
Ava tastes fantastic, and her hips rock as we pick up speed, moving together in a nearly perfect motion. I slip a finger inside her, tight and wet. Jesus.
She’s so sensitive and I feel the waves just as it overtakes her. She’s exploding with an orgasm, her hips pressing down into the bed as it rolls over her. The edges of her cries are raw. It’s been way too long, like there’s so much pent-up possibility just waiting to be released.
God, do I know that feeling.
“Connor!” The sound of her crying out my name draws me up, kissing my way up across the planes of her belly and between the swell of her breasts, holding her while the last waves of it send tremors through her body.
Her eyes are a little unfocused, but she looks into mine and runs a hand through my hair. Pulling me down on top of her, she kisses me, an invitation to go deeper. I start to move down, ready to pleasure her again. The feel of her writhing against my lips is intoxicating, threatening to send me over the edge.
“No.” Urgency edges her tone. “I mean, I want you.” Her hand slides straight down to my cock, leaving no doubts.
I don’t want to rush. Want to savor every minute with her, but there’s time for other things. Time for exploring each other’s bodies. I want to find every piece of her body that brings her pleasure, that sends her tipping into that abyss of pleasure.
But her command is my greatest pleasure tonight.
I’m on my feet in an instant, undoing my belt buckle and shedding my clothes as fast as I can. Reaching into a drawer, I pull out a condom and quickly roll it on. She watches me, appreciation apparent as she takes me in, her eyes roaming over me.
Her eyes linger on my cock, and she licks her lips, a promise to things to come.
My cock tightens, reminding me of how badly I want this woman. My heart thunders in my chest, and my hands move toward her, eager to touch her and claim her as my own. Claim her?
What the hell?
She rolls onto her back, and it strikes me again that the only men who have bothered to fuck her—I don’t like to think about that, but there it is—were assholes out for their own pleasure. Missionary style.
