Page 67 of Grump Hard
There seriously aren’t…
No words on my lips, no thoughts in my head, just feeling, sensation, affection, fire rising higher as she grinds into me
Our breath comes faster as the need builds, swells, leaving us both trembling as we fight to make it last. I kiss her mouth, her cheek, the tip of her nose, her forehead, while her hands stroke and cling.
The fire pops. The storm roars. Her calf slides up to wrap fully around my waist; I slide a hand under her bottom, changing the angle and—there.
God, I can feel it, the second I find the spot where she needs me most.
She gasps as her rhythm grows faster, more urgent, until she’s bucking into me with soft whimpers that have me swelling thicker inside her. She grips my ass in one hand, dragging me closer, closer with every thrust.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I murmur. “Take what you need. God, Holly. Can’t wait for you to come for me. Can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”
Her breath shudders out as her forehead presses to mine. Her fingers dig into the back of my neck as her lips part.
And then…
Fuck, then she lets out a sexy, gasp-groan followed by a high-pitched cry that drives me crazy. I ride her through the first sharp spasms, instantly deciding the sound of her coming for me is the sweetest sound on earth.
The very fucking sweetest…
Her release builds like a symphony reaching its crescendo, a series of waves that crest and break only to crest again, higher than before. Her body clenches around me, tight and fierce, every ripple made more devastatingly intimate by the fact that her gaze never wavers from mine.
She looks straight into my soul, showing me everything, giving me everything, until the beauty of it drags me under with her.
I bury myself deep and let go, cock jerking, bliss flooding my every cell as I give her every piece of my heart.
Always.
“Love you. So much,” I whisper as the aftershocks work through us both, leaving us panting and flushed.
And sticky, I eventually realize…
“The quilting club is going to sue us for committing an obscene act on a work of art,” I murmur, making her laugh.
I groan as she tightens around where I’m still tender, pushing me halfway out of her heat. But I’m not about to leave paradise that easily. I shift forward, burying my still semi-erect length deep again, loving the way she moans and arches closer in response.
“Luckily, these are washable works of art,” she says, wrapping her arms around me. “I’ll take them home tomorrow, wash and iron them, and have them back on their display racks before town hall opens after Christmas.”
“I’ll help,” I promise. “I’m actually pretty handy with an iron.”
“You are. Your shirts are always perfectly pressed.” Her eyes glitter up into mine as she adds, “No offense, but you’re kind of uptight looking, honestly. No one would ever guess how good at dirty talk you are.”
My brows slide up my forehead. “Really? You think I’m good at dirty talk?”
“I do,” she confirms, her face flushing. “I really liked the part when you said you couldn’t wait for me to come all over your cock.”
Jaw clenching, I nod. “I liked that part, too. And I really liked feeling this tight little pussy squeezing me in half.” I pull back, then glide in again, letting her feel what she does to me.
Her eyes widen. “Already?”
“Not quite,” I murmur. “But soon. And this time, I would love you on top if that’s all right with you. I want this sweet ass in my hands and your nipples in my mouth while you ride me.”
Her eyes go even wider, so wide that I can’t help but laugh.
“Too much dirty?” I ask.
She shakes her head fast. “No. I’m just surprised. But good surprised.” She sighs, her gaze softening again as she adds, “So good. I’m glad we’re in love.”
