Page 23 of Her Grumpy Cowboy
Angel
Grady kisses me like the first sip of heat after you’ve been cold for too long.He murmurs against my mouth, his voice like rough velvet.“Open for me, sweetheart.Let me taste what belongs to me.That’s it.”
I surrender to it, my lips parting for him.His tongue slides in, hot, slow, and possessive, stroking against mine.He groans into my mouth, pulling me closer, like he can’t get enough, like he wants to memorize the shape of my lips with his.One hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me, while the other presses into the curve of my lower back, guiding my body flush against his hard, unyielding frame.
There’s nothing soft about his kiss, except the way it undoes me.It’s hungry but controlled.Reverent and filthy.Andsoworth the wait.
I learn him in pieces: the hitch in his breath when I scrape my nails lightly up his back; the way his control feels like a gift he’s giving me, not a punishment he’s imposing on himself; his satisfied groan when I tilt my face and kiss him deeper, greedy and grateful at once.
By the time he pulls back, we’re both breathing hard.
“You sure?”Grady murmurs, his eyes locked on mine like I’m the only thing that matters.
I swallow, my heart crashing like cymbals against my ribs.“I want you.”
He inhales a rough breath.“You have the brakes.If you say stop, I stop.If you say slow, I slow.You say more?—”
“I get more,” I finish.
“Good girl,” he says, and his praise is like a match to kindling.
He lifts the hem of my borrowed shirt and strips it away like he’s unwrapping something he intends to keep forever.The air kisses my skin as the oversized sweatpants follow, leaving me in just my bra and panties.
I flinch, instinctively trying to cover my stomach and thighs with my hands.
“I’m fat,” I murmur, eyes darting away.
For a moment, there’s only silence.Then his hand wraps gently around my wrist and draws it away.The other traces my cheek, grounding me.
“Angel,” he says, voice low and rough, “you are perfect.”
I shake my head, not believing him, not yet.“I’m not the kind of girl guys usually want.”
His eyes blaze as he looks at me.“No, you’re not,” he growls.“You’re so much more.”
Coasting his big hands up my sides, he mutters, “All this softness?This abundance?”He leans in and presses a kiss above my belly button.“It matches your smile.Your laugh.The way you pull people in.It’syou.”
His mouth trails to the curve of my hip.“This body,” he says roughly, “was made to be touched.Held.Kissed.Fucked.Damn, Angel, I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.I want to fucking worship you.”
My breath catches.My heart stumbles.Tears sting my eyes, but he’s already moving, already kissing them away.
“Don’t even think about hiding from me again,” he murmurs, curling his fingers around the edge of my panties.“I want to see all of you.Every inch.Every curve of this lush body.”
His eyes meet mine, full of fire and certainty.“You're not too much.You’re exactly right.And I’m going to spend the rest of the night proving it to you.”
His hands are big and sure and gentle as he removes my panties.He reaches behind me, unclasping my bra.My breasts spill out, my nipples hardening under his heated gaze.
“Fuck,” he grunts, biting his lip.“Lie back.”
I sink into the blankets as he braces his weight over me.He kisses my shoulder first, then lower, mapping me with his mouth and hands—collarbone, sternum, the soft underside of my breast.He closes his lips around my nipple and suckles me slowly, his palm cradling the other.A sound tears from me that I didn’t know I could make.
My hands go to his hair, and I thread my fingers through the silky strands.Sliding down, he kisses along my stomach and licks a stripe to the dip of my hip that makes my thighs twitch open.
“Good,” he murmurs, settling between them.“Open for me.”
Heat floods me, and I instinctively try to close them again.
He stops me with a firm, patient grip.“No hiding, Angel.I want to see all of you.I’ve been dreaming of this.Ofyou.”
