Page 58 of The Grump I Got Stuck With

She whined in response, her hips darting forward. I reached between us, flicking my fingers over her clit, then guided my cock into her slowly, letting her adjust to the stretch.

The groan that escaped her almost had me bucking. “Good?” I asked after a beat.

She clutched me harder. “Please,” she begged.

“Please what?”

“Fuck me, Alistair. Make me forget my own name.”

I pressed my lips to her cheek. “I’m going to make you scream mine.” Then I pulled out and thrust back in.

Madison cried out, shifting to meet my thrusts. The pressure was intoxicating, delicious…and she was ravenous for me. I tilted my hips, changing the angle slightly, and her breathy little moans were almost my undoing. I sped up just to hear more.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she cried, nails digging into my skin. “Don’t stop. Please, God!”

I propped myself up on my forearms, keeping pace as desire tightened around my spine. It was so fucking good.

She was so good.

And I could hardly wait for her to unravel again.

“I’m…” she gasped. “I’m gonna…Alis⁠—”

And then she was coming, seizing up before going boneless beneath me, her moan echoing through the room.

I exploded right behind her, my head driving into the pillow as my orgasm crackled behind my eyes. “Was that my name I heard you say as you came?”

“Not sure,” she said, still trying to catch her breath. “I think we should probably try again to be sure.”

I turned my head, grinning. Tonight, her wish was my command.

17

MADISON

“Morning,” a gruff voice whispered, warm breath tickling my neck as my eyes fluttered open. I groaned and stretched, finding myself delightfully sore. The kind of sore that came from being up far too late to engage in far too many pleasurable shenanigans.

“Morning,” I said, rolling over into Alistair’s arms, unable to hide my grin. One hand landed on his delightfully naked chest, stroking the soft hairs there, the other wrapped around his bicep. I remembered him standing in the kitchen in Dunhope that first morning in all his wet, muscley glory. Now I’d spent all evening appreciating those same muscles.

And, damn. The real thing was so much better now that I was allowed to be hands-on. I sighed, stroking his abs—pretty sure I’d spent a good fifteen minutes tracing those with my tongue last night. A flutter of desire sparked in my lower stomach at the thought.

“What’s that dreamy look for?”

“Just thinking about licking your abs.”

Alistair blinked once, then he burst out laughing. And he didn’t stop, pulling me tighter against him, rolling until I was stretched out against his chest, shaking with the force of his chuckles.

“I’m not that funny,” I murmured, poking the dimple in his chin.

He kissed the tip of my finger. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like the dead. In the best possible way.” I shifted, my hand drifting across his chest, then down past his navel where a trail of dark hair led me⁠—

“And where exactly do you think you’re going?” he teased, giving my ass a light squeeze.

“Just taking a little stroll,” I said, walking my fingers along that tantalizing trail, tugging the sheets aside to expose the glorious cock that had driven me to the point of madness last night. It twitched in response to my presence.

“Can I interest you in breakfast?” Alistair asked, stroking his hand along my shoulder.