Page 88 of Peaches & Pistols

“These tits are mine.” I nod, not a thought in my head other than please.

He dips two fingers back through my wet pussy. His other hand widens my jaw so he can shove his fingers coated with my arousal into my mouth. I’ve never tasted myself before, but it doesn’t bother me one bit, and the fact that it turns Greyson on makes me love it.

“This mouth is mine.”

“I’m yours. All of me,” I pant.

“Good girl. Center of the bed, on your knees, ass on your heels, and hands on your thighs.”

“Yes, sir,” I say instinctually, while precisely following his directions.

My fingers itch to touch him as he removes his shirt with one hand behind his neck. He removes his wallet from his low-slung jeans and reveals a condom.

“Been carryin’ one just in case,” he says, chagrined, shucking out of his jeans.

“But you had a vasectomy.”

“I did, but I want you to feel safe and comfortable, honey. I haven’t been with a woman in years and have a clean bill of health. You were never given a choice before. You deserve to choose what happens with your body.”

Now is not a moment I want to cry, but this man is more perfect than I could’ve ever dreamed of.

“I want you with nothing between us. I understand if you’re unsure because of my history—” I try to offer but Greyson stops me.

“I trust you. Do you trust me?” It seems simple but holds years of trauma for us both.

“Yes, Greyson,” I say his name rather than “sir” because I need him to know I trust him, not just in the bedroom, and he doesn’t correct me.

“Okay then.”

He looks me dead in the eyes as he lowers his boxer briefs, his cock bobbing heavily between his strong legs. Dark hair dusts his chest, trailing down his solid body and legs. A man. That’s what Greyson is, a fucking man.

For the briefest moment, I can’t help comparing his immaculate body to the only other man I’ve been beneath. Carter shaved his entire body for swimming, and despite his musculature, everything about him screamed, “I sit behind a desk all day.”

Greyson’s body works hard to provide for his family and help at the ranch. His body cares for me and our daughters. His body eats second helpings of my cooking and never turns down dessert.

“I love your body,” floats from my lips.

His nostrils flare, muscles feathering in his jaw, pleased with my compliment.

“Honey, your body was made by the heavens and built for sin. Every part of you is perfection.”

When Greyson looks at me, he doesn’t sneer at my stretch marks or cesarean scar. He admires me for the woman I am, not who he can mold me into.

“Lay back,” he says, softer. “Let me see you.”

I nestle into the pillows, my hands finding my breasts to ease the way they ache for his attention. I spread my legs and bring my feet up, opening myself to him completely.

“Good fucking girl.” Greyson crawls onto the bed and kneels between my legs. His hands shake as they explore every inch of my body.

I’m transfixed as he slowly pumps his cock with one hand and rolls his balls in the other. I’ve only seen one other, but Greyson’s dick is perfect.

“I’m not gonna last, honey. It’s been too long, and you’re too goddamn sexy.”

“I don’t care. I need you inside me, please.”

“I’ll always give you what you need,” he says as he props himself up on one hand by my head, guiding the weeping head of his cock to my drenched hole.

Our eyes lock, communicating louder and clearer than words every could.