Page 47 of New Girl in Town
I kissed him, my hands sliding up and under his shirt to touch his skin. “All of you. Everywhere. However. Just please, plea—”
Grant picked me up bridal style, startling me, and I clung to him at the sudden movement. Before I knew it he pushed me down and forward against my couch, the soft material pushing back against me as he kissed my neck.
“Feel so good under me.” His lips explored my skin with a hungry reverence that left me breathless and shaking.
“Grant,” I moaned in between kisses.
I loved that he made me feel this wild, this wanted. It had been tough in those final months—and years of my marriage. Those days had been a blur where I’d felt myself slipping away, becoming less than, becoming unseen, so unnoticed in my own life, but now?
Now I was on fire, and Grant looked at me like I was the answer to every unasked question. His touch roamed my body, and I raised my arms for him to pull my top, the oversized flannel I’d purchased, up and over my head. Its large size meant there was no need to worry about buttons, which elevated my consideration of the garment a hundred-fold.
My hands yanked at his shirt. I needed to feel every part of him against me, and I hummed in approval when he tossed his over his shoulder and lowered his body on top of mine.
My heart swelled, the pressure of it pushing hard at my chest, so much so that it ached. The feel of him was intoxicating and I drank up the heat of his body, his hands on my skin my skin as we explored one another. My fingers tightened in Grant’s hair at the scrape of his beard against the tender skin of my throat.
“Smooth,” I whispered, voice husky with want when he one-handedly pulled my bra away and kissed his way down to my breasts.
“I’m motivated,” he said, and captured one of my nipples in his mouth with a groan. “So sweet,” he said, tongue circling my beading nipple and giving it a gentle tug that had my back arching.
His hands squeezed my sides and I squirmed under the attention he lavished on my breasts. His hands cupped and caressed them as he continued to kiss and suck on my nipples. I’d heard of women cumming without clitorial stimulation and until this moment I’d always written it off as an urban legend, but now he made a true believer out of me with the care and single minded focus he gave my breasts.
“Aurora,” he sighed, breath warm against my sensitive flesh. I managed a strangled gasp of an answer when he scraped his teeth against me only to soothe the sting with his tongue a second later. It was enough to make me see stars.
This man was going to kill me, and we didn’t even have our pants off.
Speaking of which, my hands drifted lower until they hit the top of his jeans. I slid one fingertip along the top before I dipped lower and dragged my nail across the flat of his stomach. His body shivered under my touch and I felt a surge of pride at being able to make him squirm with a single touch.
I smiled up at him, feeling like the cat that had gotten both the canary and the cream. “Bedroom?”
He gave a quick nod. “Bedroom.” He caught hold of my hands and yanked me up against him before reclaiming my lips in another breath-stealing kiss. We made our way to my bedroom in a whirlwind of touch that had us bumping into furniture and bouncing off my bedroom door frame in our haste to find my bed.
I didn’t mind it. I welcomed it. This exciting and eager time that told me what Grant and I were creating wasn’t just a passing fling but was the foundation for something more. I wanted this man, but I enjoyed him as well. His wit, kindness, and warmth were things I couldn’t see myself being without in my new life.
Limbs tangled and mouths busy, we fell on my bed and shed the rest of our clothing until there was nothing left but time. And I intended to take advantage of that time when it came to enjoying this first experience with him.
Fingers tight on my hips, his attention fell again to my breasts. The sensation, paired with the weight and warmth of his body on mine, was enough to send me over the edge of the orgasm that had been building in me like a storm. I cried out, hips arching and pushing against him as I rode the wave of pleasure.
I was panting when I came back to myself, and I sucked in a deep breath when I felt him settle between my thighs, his body pressed flush up against mine as he dragged his hands up from my thighs to my ribs.
He breathed my name like a prayer and my eyes popped open. I reached a hand out to him cupping his face and giving him a smile. My other hand went to his chest and I slid my palm up, enjoying the scratch of his chest hair against my skin.
He caught my hand on its upward trajectory and pressed a kiss against my knuckles. “Baby, I need to be inside you.”
I lifted my hips and hugged my leg around his hip. “I need that too. Please, Grant.”
Grant kissed my palm and met my eyes. “Please what?”
“Fuck me.”
He groaned at my request and his fingers tightened around my hand for a second before he let it slip free. Grant leaned forward, placing his hand beside my head to brace himself as he moved. His free hand moved to grip my leg tighter against his body. If he could hear my heart, I knew he would hear it beating a mile a minute. I felt his cock nudge at my entrance and I bit my bottom lip so hard from anticipation that I was surprised I didn’t draw blood.
I felt wild, so unlike who I’d been before Colorado, but it couldn’t be helped. Grant pushed forward and I groaned at that first delicious inch that pushed into me. My fingernails dug crescent moons into his shoulders when he thrust forward once more, giving my aching cunt the exact thing it had craved from the second I had fallen ass over heels for Grant St. John.
“Baby,” he whispered, forehead coming to rest against mine. My arms wrapped around his neck when he began to move, slow at first but then with greater urgency, each and every roll of his hips stealing my breath until I became a gasping, shaking mess beneath him, incapable of saying anything but his name and words that vaguely resembledmoreandplease.
I lost myself in him, in this perfect moment that reminded me there was much more to explore. His blue eyes were soft and warm on my face as he made love to me—because that was what this was, which didn’t feel as absurd as it might have when I’d crossed the state line all those weeks ago.
When a man like Grant St. John touched, looked, and wanted you like he did, you had no choice but to follow.
And baby, I was a goner.
