Page 54 of Teach Me Your Ways

22

CECE

He tasted like heaven and I wanted him to touch me everywhere. I needed it.

My heart was still racing after that kiss. His hands were in my hair and his thumb traced my jawline as he looked down at me with those dark eyes. He was holding back, but it was clear he wanted this as much as I did. Hell, I didn’t know if it was possible, but he may have wanted this more.

I knew I was playing with fire by coming here to talk to him, but I had held strong right up until he’d pulled me close and comforted me. His strong embrace was like a key opening up locked parts of my heart.

We had both agreed it was a bad idea to let anything happen between us, but now we were standing on the edge together, each waiting for a signal to take the plunge.

“Tell me we can’t do this,” he murmured against my neck. His voice was rough with desire, vibrating against my skin.

“It’s the worst thing we can do,” I whispered, arching into his touch. “We absolutely can’t.”

“We just agreed.” His lips trailed lower, finding that spot just below my earlobe that sent a shiver down my spine. “We set boundaries.”

I groaned softly, drowning in the confusing mix of lust and regret that swirled between us. “I know,” I breathed out. “But maybe for just a little bit…”

He kissed me again. His tongue slipped into my mouth as his fingers trailed down my chest and cupped my breast. He groaned again. “Yeah, maybe just for a little bit.”

His words sent liquid heat straight between my legs. My nipples hardened against his palms as he kneaded me through the thin fabric of my T-shirt. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel the desperate ache building in me.

“We should go inside,” I managed to gasp between kisses.

He didn’t need to be told twice. In one fluid motion, he stood and pulled me up with him, his hands never leaving my body. We stumbled through the sliding door, mouths fused together, hands grabbing and pulling at each other with barely restrained hunger.

The moment we crossed the threshold, he pressed me back against the wall, his body caging me in. The cool surface against my back was a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his chest. His hands slipped under my shirt, rough palms skimming up my ribs, and I leaned into his touch with a soft moan.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he growled against my throat, his teeth grazing my pulse point. “I’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the night we met.”

His confession made me bold. I reached for the hem of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against mine. He helped me pull it over his head, and then his hands were back on me, lifting my shirt up and over my arms. The fabric hit the floor with a whisper.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of me in my bra, his gaze so intense it felt like a physical touch. “Christ, Cece. You drive me crazy with that body.”

Before I could respond, his mouth was on my collarbone, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to the swell of my breasts. His hands found the clasp of my bra and deftly unhooked it. He unceremoniously tossed it on the floor.

The sound that rumbled from his chest when he saw me bare was purely animalistic. He cupped my breasts in his hands, thumbs brushing over my nipples until I was gasping and writhing against the wall.

“Grady, that feels amazing,” I breathed, my hands fisting in his hair.

He took one peaked nipple into his mouth, and the sensation shot straight to my core, making me clench around nothing. He alternated between gentle licks and firm suction until I was a trembling mess. My shorts felt too tight, too restricting. I needed more. I needed everything.

As if reading my mind, his hands moved to the waistband of my shorts, fingers hooking in the elastic. He looked up at me, pupils blown wide with desire.

“Yes or no?” he asked, voice strained. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Instead, I lifted my hips, helping him slide the fabric down my legs. “Don’t you dare stop.”

With those words, his control snapped like a rubber band pulled too tight. He kicked my shorts aside and lifted me. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist as he carried me toward what I assumed was his bedroom. I was wrong. He didn’t make it that far.

Instead, he set me down on the kitchen counter, the cool granite shocking against my heated skin. His hands were everywhere—cupping my face, gripping my hips, trailing fire down my thighs. I fumbled with the button of his jeans, desperate to feel all of him, but my fingers were shaking too badly to work properly.

“Let me,” he growled, making quick work of his jeans. They hit the floor with his boxers, and then he was standing between my legs, naked and magnificent and so hard I could barely think straight. I wrapped my hand around that damn thing and it was thick and hard, and I knew it was going to be damn good.

“Condom,” I managed to gasp out, the last rational thought I had.

“Fuck. Yeah.” He disappeared for what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, returning with a foil packet. I watched, mesmerized, as he squeezed his cock once and then rolled it on. I chewed my lower lip in anticipation of what was to come.