Page 115 of Filthy Little Pretties
My finger gently traces the faded green and purple bruise under his right eye. “Does it ever scare you? How much you love me—”
“It’s the only thing that scares me,” he answers, his fingers gliding up my back and into the nape of my hair as he speaks. “Does it scare you?”
So much. I nod. “Only because of how much I want it.”
He grins, eyes locked on mine, as he shifts over the top of me. He’s pressed between my legs, hands on each side of my head, as he stares down and licks his lips. “Tell me how much you want it.”
The way he’s looking at me gives away all the dirty things he wants me to say.
“Do you really want to know?” I giggle, narrowing my eyes at him and tipping my chin up. Grey leans down, but my hand cradles his face, and I guide my lips to his ear.
“Mmmm.” He hums his approval, his dick undulating in line with my slick center, as I whisper all the filthiest of sweet nothings into his ear.
He dives back down for my neck, but I push his shoulder and roll us over so that I’m on top, smiling down with my hands on his chest. “Now tell me. How bad do you want my love?”
His rough palms melt over my breasts as my back arches.Damn that feels good.
“Grey,” I breathe out, as he sits up, sealing his mouth over my pert nipple. “Yes.”
He frees my nipple but runs his tongue over and blows cool air before looking me in the eyes. “I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life, and I’d do anything to keep it.”
“More than the Olympics?” I grin.
“More,” he growls, pulling me into another kiss, before relaxing back again.
He’s perfect. We’re perfect. This was fate, and Kai was right—you can’t fight the natural order of things. There was a time when Grey and I seemed impossible, the obstacles insurmountable—my past, his sister, our fears, sacrifices we’d have to make—they would end us before we started. But now the same obstacles are there, and they’re still daunting, but I can never go back. And that scares the hell out of me. Stills my entire body because I don’t know if Grey really feels the same. I know he loves me, and he says he’d do anything but—
“Hey.” His deep gravelly voice pulls me out of my head, my eyes blinking quickly as I focus on him. “Hey, where’d you go?”
Deep lines form between my brows, leftover from my thoughts. I begin to scoot back off his lap, so that I can hitch my leg over him, but he grabs at my waist, growling, “I’m hungry,” and drops his head to my center, trying to kiss me more intimately through the blanket that’s gotten caught between us. I push his head away, but he bites at my wrist, making me jerk it back as I yelp. He sits up and leans forward, dragging me into his lap, so that I’m straddling him again.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Cherry?”
I’m not getting away, and I don’t really want to, but I’m scared this is where it all ends. My voice is more nervous than I’d like it to sound, but I’m scared. So fucking afraid he’ll make me choose. And then I’ll hate him because I will. I’ll choose him.
“Do you really love me more than anything? Would you really do anything for us?”
He brings a finger to a stray piece of hair next to my eye and brushes it off my face. “I would. Do you want to tell me what has you picking at those bracelets?”
I look down to see my fingers fiddling with the strings and let out a breath.
“Everything feels impossible. We had all this shit in the way, stuff that made me and you impossible.”
He leans forward, kissing my forehead, bringing my eyes up to his.
“And? Look at us. We’re together. Nothing else mattered.”
I shake my head. “No, we’re hiding. All that shit’s still there.”Here we go. I take a deep breath and let it out, putting my hands on his shoulders. “We have to make it all right, or we won’t work. It’ll eventually tear us apart.”
His jaw tenses. “Bullshit. You’re just scared.”
“No. Grey, I’m not.” I scowl. “I’m determined. You’re what I want. So I’m making sure I get to keep you.”
The way he stares at me, like he sees into my soul. He sees me. More than anyone else. A small grin grows on his face, making me relax back and mirror him.
“Name something,” he states firmly.
“Caroline,” I counter.
