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I keep my arms up after he discards my dress, giving him full access to feast on my sight, to feel, to kiss, to do whatever he wants.
He doesn’t disappoint, and a second later we’re on the futon, where he picks up touching, licking, kissing me into oblivion.
His lips find mine again as his hand slides into my panties.
Talk about direct.
Of course, I love it.
Those thick caveman fingers make me gasp as they tease my pussy, tickling the outside of my slit, then turning in to sink so deep my breath hitches.
But only for a second before the pad of his thumb slides up, raking my clit, making me a steaming, wilting mess in his arms.
“You need to know...I haven’t been with anyone since Brittany. So you don’t have to worry about catching anything,” he says.
Good thing he remembers, honestly.
The thought about protection hadn’t crossed my mind in this torn-up state.
I peel my eyes open. “I...I’m clean, too. I haven’t had much time for fun, but the few times I did in college, we were safe. Do you have any...”
“Condoms? In my room. I’ll grab them, but I thought we’d ease into this first before we get down to serious business.”
Holy screaming shit.
Like this isn’t serious business already? I’m not even sure I’ll survive another sixty seconds of his fingers in me without coming myself blind.
Thoroughly enjoying what’s happening, I groan, showing him just how much I like his hand.
I have to save face, so I shift to playing coy.
“What kind of fun did you have in mind?”
“This,” he growls.
And just like that, two of his fingers sink deep, this time to stay.
My hips arch, giving him full access, a sigh like hot wax oozing out of me.
“Grady. God. I think...yeah, I can live with that.”
“Can you live with this?” His eyes narrow like steaming crescent moons.
His thumb returns to my clit while those fingers pump, rending me in two.
A fireball builds in my core, molten and erratic and dangerously ready to light me up.
I have to tighten my thighs to hold on, to keep ecstasy at bay, digging my nails into his shoulders.
“You hear me, Willow?” he asks, fully in his glory as those glowing brown eyes drink me in.
“Yes!” I whine back, my legs starting to shake.
“Good, because this little nub has a lot more coming—and a lot more fucking coming to do for me.” He gently pinches my clit, sending more thrills rocketing through my system.
“And these nipples,” he adds, lowering his teeth to tease, sucking my soft bud against his tongue.
Destroyed.
My last shred of sanity snaps.
I’m humping his hand like an animal in heat, grinding into him, already on the precipice.
I’m not even sure how I can talk, but something hits me then.
“Willow?” he breathes, his voice so dark.
“It doesn’t seem fair,” I gasp. “I’m the only one having all this...this...ohhh, this.”
“Like hell.” He moves to the next nipple, staring up at me with those bearish eyes. “I’m loving every second. Tearing you down, making you mine, showing you how sweet you can come for me.”
He hoists me off the futon then, tumbling me up.
Delirious, I fall against him, my knees beginning to buckle as my heartbeat bangs my stomach and a dense, thudding pulse roars in my blood.
I close my eyes, lost in his fingers, his kiss, his promises. This is where the mind turns off and Hurricane Grady sweeps me away.
“Grady!” I whimper, my eyes pinched so tight it hurts.
Or, rather, it would hurt if he weren’t a split second away from bringing me to the best climax of my life.
He chuckles and then takes my nipple completely in his mouth while his hand picks me up and throws me over the edge.
His attention to detail is impeccable.
All sweet, hot tension, a magician’s touch crafted to bring a woman under his spell.
Totally unlike anything I’ve ever known.
Totally like this man was made to do this, to stroke and rule and seduce me to pieces, and then to catapult me up to all seven heaven.
But just when I’m about to lose it, gripping his shirt and twisting it around my hand, he drops to his knees and takes those glorious fingers away.
He shoves my panties down with one swift tug and replaces his hand with his mouth.
I’m so over, so undone as he pushes me against the wall, as his tongue sinks into me, as he makes me ride his face and slaps my clit with his tongue and—
“Coming!” I shriek, right before I bite down on the back of my wrist.
Knock me out with a feather.
I never knew a human O could have this many levels.
The first is this peppermint heat that bathes my brain in a slow, sugary rush of good feels.
The second is all convulsions, intense and merciless, riding the wave of his beard like my life depends on it and—
