Page 87 of Grey

When the sexual high started to ebb away, tears conquered me once more.

“Don’t go yet. Sleep the night here. I need you here,” Grey whispered behind my ear, holding me tighter the second I tried to get away from him.

It was already about two in the morning, and we had to get up for school tomorrow. What’s more, the thought of getting caught by our parents in the pool house made me nervous every damn time.

“Why don’t we get a room tomorrow somewhere? I’d love to sleep and wake up with you, too. And the thought of Brett catching me in your bed turns my blood a little cold.”

He laughed, nuzzling my neck. “Dad likes you. He’d probably congratulate me for landing myself a very beautiful, stubborn to the point of overkill, yet lovable woman.”

I pinched his hand when he teased me about being so stubborn. Each time he referenced me this way—praising and hearing the awe in hisvoice—it made me feel dizzy and I always got this odd sensation that only his lips, his body, could soothe away.

My insecurities were high, and yet, I wasn’t ready to give this up. Grey made me feel unknown things, and as much as it scared me to feel these alien emotions, I felt struck—inevitably addicted to the potion he’d fed me though his kisses. Did all the women feel this way in his arms? I mean, I was aware that a lot of girls in school were in love with him—most even openly admitted that, after a night with him, they would obsess about how he skillfully showed them a night to remember. Videos were abundant. And the thought of coming across one terrified me to no end.

“What do you think about when you jackoff? Aside from porn, that is; who do you think of?” My question was invasive, and he could very well choose to answer it or not, but I had always been curious. Edith’s name certainly came to mind most of the time.

“Come on, Liv. What a dumb thing to ask. You know I think about you. Even before I had you this way, it was you who I imagined fucking…” His dick was at the crack of my butt when he brazenly started to thrust. The tip of his head started hitting my slit, opening it slightly to glide against it, instantly provoking the hunger in my body, making my juices flow freely, gradually coating his cock with my slick essence. “I knew the second my dream came true that I didn’t need any of that. Your pussy is healing me, curing me from all that bullshit.”

“Grey…” My breathing hitched as I anticipated his first thrust. “You’re talking crazy.”

And when he thrust—seating himself deeply into my channel—he didn’t move, he simply held on to the feeling for a little longer, heaving into my neck. “There’s no mistaking that I’m crazy. You knew this from the start—I’ve always been mental when it comes to you.”

I remembered it clearly as I blinked the tears away, as if the scene was playing out right before me. Through sex with Liam, I thought it would help me cope from the loss, but I was being proven wrong time and time again. Time surely didn’t make things easier for me, nor did my wounds heal. My heart was still gashed, injured as if it had been wounded yesterday. I was scared—stupefied of what tomorrow might bring.

Because, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure how I would react if I saw him or had a chance to be alone with him again, even just for a few minutes. My need for him went beyond the physical balm. I needed him to live.

Even though Liam was superb in his bedroom skills, what Grey had given me and showed me was a whole different aspect altogether. It was like the differences between a diamond and a crystal. Both were equally beautiful, both had a solid purpose, yet no matter how much you embellished it, once you had been given a diamond, it was harder to appreciate a crystal.

Greyson was a diamond. My diamond in the rough.

ChapterForty-Nine

As I appliedthe last coat of my mascara, Liam appeared, stopping right at the bathroom door. He lazily leaned against it as he studied me quietly in the mirror. He looked handsome in his black, long sleeve dress shirt with the sleeves pushed back and his favorite black, stonewashed jeans.

“I’m almost done,” I gently informed him as I plucked out a lip gloss from the few selections I had before looking at him from the mirror.

“Greyson…” he murmured, catching me off guard as our eyes caught each other. “I just met the guy. He’s downstairs, along with his wife.”

My bottom lip trembled the second after I heard him say the wordshis wife. Edith had been nothing other than a nightmare ever since she had claimed rights to Greyson. She had won, and now I had to muster up enough courage to fake it all through dinner. She was going to be ruthless—kissing and touching him just to provoke anger in me—and she would be right in thinking it would anger me. But above all, it would traumatize me.

As I closed my eyes because I was trembling terribly, my hand gripped the sink counter, needing something to hold on to. “I don’t think… I know I can’t… do it.”

Liam immediately was there beside me, curling an arm around my hip, steadying me. “Shhhh,” he softly cooed. “You’re fine…beautiful and so fucking sexy,” he whispered into my ear, distracting me from the real horror of what I had to face in a few minutes.

“What are you doing?” I asked, gasping in shock when I felt his fingers trailing along my thigh, hovering around the elastic of my underwear.

He then parted my legs before he slowly knelt down before me and roughly tugged my lower half to meet his lips. “Helping you relax.” Those were his last words before I felt the first flick of his hot, piercing tongue.

It was ghastly to do this to me right before we were about to go downstairs and pretend happiness was all around, but who was I to complain about a complimentary orgasm?

Thank goodness for sexy, over-eager, Aussie men!

A little over twenty minutes later, I was gasping and smiling brightly with my eyes closed after I had just been given an intense release.

“Feeling better?” Liam heaved out the question before he captured my lips, showing me how sensual I was at making love to his lips.

How I wished he owned my heart. The thought danced around in my head before I considered answering his question. “Pretty much. You can be very persistent. And who am I to decline you when you have these urges to please me?” I pulled away, slowly lifting my gaze, looking at him straight in the eye. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my queen.”

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