Page 57 of The Cost of Blood and Bonds

“Grier—” she says more firmly.

I laugh into her mouth as I kiss her, hooking my fingers around the fabric and sliding two fingers inside her. She’s so wet for me. Her head rolls back and she moans, the sound going straight to my cock.

I curl my fingers, finding that spot that makes her knees buckle, while my thumb traces slow, torturous circles over her clit, still over her underwear.

She whimpers and rolls her hips against my hand, trying to set a faster pace. I don’t let her, just keep that same rhythm, kissing her neck, her jaw, the spot behind her ear that always makes her shiver.

She growls in frustration and returns to kissing me with renewed aggression, running her hand down my chest, to my pants. She works my belt open, wraps her fingers around my shaft and strokes, base to tip.

“Gemma,” I groan, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away before I spill in her palm like some untouched boy. I kick my pants off, grip her thighs, and lift her before she can undo me completely.

She wraps around me instantly, as I carry her to the bed. I lay her down, peel her underwear off, and settle between her thighs.

I take my time again, kissing down her neck, her collarbone, and trailing lower. My fingers find her core, and I stroke slow circles through her heat, teasing her clit.

She lets me, until she realizes I plan to resume the slow torture. Then she hooks her leg around my hip, using the leverage to flip me onto my back.

Of course. It’s always like this with her, a fight for control. She never quite surrenders completely, always keeping a part of herself just out of reach, even here in bed.

She straddles me, positions herself, and before I can protest, she sinks down onto my cock in one slow, devastating movement, taking me to the hilt.

“Gemma—” It comes out guttural.

My head falls back against the pillow. Fuck, she’s so tight and wet. My grip tightens on her hips to take over when her hand slips behind her, fingers finding my balls, cradling them and rolling them gently. Making my grip go slack.

She starts to move, a grin playing on her face, rolling her hips in a slow grind, knowing she has me. Then she starts to quicken the pace, clearly chasing her release.

I watch her through half-lidded eyes, the way her head tips back and her lips part. The way she’s using my body to chase her own pleasure. She’s so beautiful, but I’m done letting her run this.

I bring my thumb to my mouth and run my tongue across it slowly, holding her gaze the entire time.

Her rhythm falters.

My hands wrap around her waist. She’s so small that my fingers nearly meet at the small of her back. I grip her, lift her until just my tip remains inside, and slide her back down my full length.

She moans loudly. I do it again and again, setting the pace now, using my grip to control how deep and how fast I go. She’s calling out my name, and yet she still tries to fight it, her hands are braced on my chest, trying to take back control.

Then, I press my thumb against her clit, and she gasps. I move my thumb in tight circles while my hands control her riding me, faster now, harder. The wrecked sounds coming from her nearly bring me to release.

I’ve learned this about her. Whenever she finally gives in and finally lets me take the lead, she enjoys it so much more, like the surrender itself is part of the pleasure.

She’s trembling, her back arching, her hands sliding off my chest to reach back and brace against my thighs as she gives herself over to me completely.

She’s so beautiful, open and unguarded, trusting me to take her where she needs to go. Choosing me.

I feel her walls start to flutter around me, feel her breath catch, her thighs shake on either side of me as she climbs higher. I circle faster and move her on my cock deeper, harder, faster. She shatters, head thrown back, back bowed, lips parted in a broken cry as her whole body clenches around me.

“Grier—” she moans my name as the orgasm rips through her, and fuck, my name on her lips, the sight of her coming undone on top of me, the feeling of her perfect pussy riding my cock⁠—

It pulls me over the edge with her. I bury myself deep, fingers bruising her hips, her name torn from my throat as I come so hard my vision blacks out.

She collapses onto my chest, boneless and breathless, while I’m still buried inside her, her heart pounding against mine.

I wrap my arms around her and hold her close, pressing my lips to the top of her head. Her breath is warm against my skin, and her body soft and pliant against mine.

Then she stirs and pulls back.

“I need to…” She gestures toward the bathing room.