Page 114 of PR Stunt

I don’t hesitate this time. “I want this. I want you.”

His gaze cuts to me. He reaches out with one hand, moving the spray from the shower away from us, redirecting it from our faces. He grabs the condom, tears it open, and rolls it on with urgent hands.

Then he steps closer, hands sliding to the backs of my thighs. In a fast motion, he picks me up again, and my legs wrap instinctively around his waist. He presses me against the cool tile as he lines up, pushing in with one long, slow thrust that stretches me open.

My head drops back. Pure. Bliss.

“Fuck. You’re my perfect fit,” he hisses, his forehead pressing against my neck as he stills, like he’s barely holding himself together. I rake my nails down his back, urging him on, but he makes me feel every inch of him first.

At last, he moves. Slow at first. Deep, deliberate strokes that have my eyes rolling back, have my breath coming in broken, choked gasps. But it doesn’t stay slow for long. Both of our control shatters, and our patience flies out the window. He digs his fingers into my thighs as his thrusts turn rough, fast, relentless. The steady drum of water against tile mixes with the sharp, breathless moans escaping my lips. At the moment, I don’t care if everyone at the resort can hear me screaming in pleasure.

Grayson’s grip tightens. “You take it so well, sweetheart,” he groans, his mouth dragging over my jaw, my throat, before biting down on my shoulder, hard enough to make me gasp.

Pleasure spirals out of control, and the heat curls tight, unbearable. I cling to him, nails scoring his back, chest pressed to chest, breath mixing between desperate, messy kisses. I bite his shoulder, and he growls, thrust faltering.

“Fuck! You’re mine, you hear me? No one gets you like this.”

Yes. Yes. “I’m—” a soft moan escapes “—close,” I manage, breath catching on the edge of the word.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

Yielding to him, my body locks up and shatters around him. The pleasure hits so hard that I see stars, a strangled cry slipping from my lips as I cling to him, while he keeps moving, chasing his own release. Two thrusts. Three. He curses, burying his face in my neck, his whole body shaking as he follows me over the edge.

The water beats down beside us, but neither of us moves. I feel his heart hammering against mine, his breath ragged against my skin, his hands still gripping me like he never intends to let go. He exhales, a lazy smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Then he gently slides out of me, his hands stable on my hips. My body still trembles, still buzzes from the aftershocks, and before I can fully process the shift, he lifts me one more time—this time just to set me back down on my feet. His hands don’t leave me right away. He lingers, thumbs stroking my cheeks, his touch softer now.

He cups my face and tilts my chin up, pressing the sweetest, most devastating kiss to my lips. He pulls back just an inch, his breath still warm against my mouth. His eyes flicker over my face, something impossibly tender in his gaze.

“Take your time,” he murmurs, voice lower now. “You snacky? I’ll order room service.”

I nod, still catching my breath, still reeling from hands down the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. Boneless and wrecked. He smiles. He knows exactly what I’m thinking and no doubt enjoys seeing me this undone. I watch as he grabs a towel, slinging it around his hips before disappearing into the bedroom. I stand there, legs weak, pulse still unsteady, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to recover from that. The second the door clicks shut behind him, I exhale a slow, shaky breath, tilting my head back against the tile.

Chapter 34

A smile spreads across my lips.

Not just any smile. A real one. A giddy, what-the-hell-just-happened smile. I feel it everywhere. The warmth in my chest. The lazy, satisfied ache in my limbs. The lingering heat between my legs that tells me I just had the best sex of my life. Mentally adding this to top-tier feelings. I bite my lip, suppressing a laugh that bubbles up from deep in my stomach. Because this? This wasn’t just good.

It was mind-fucking-blowing. I press my fingers against my lips, as if I can still feel him there.

Then, with a deep inhale, I finally push off the wall, stepping fully under the water and letting it wash over me. The heat soaks into my muscles, soothing every delicious ache he left behind. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head to myself, still smiling. Eventually, I force myself to turn off the water, and then I step onto the bathmat and wrap a towel around my body. I pat myself dry and then slip into my robe, the plush fabric warm against my skin. At the sink, I reach for my toothbrush, brush quickly, and then wash my face.

When I unzip my travel pouch, two full face sheet masks catch my eye. A quiet grin teases my lips. I step back into the bedroom, hands tucked behind me. He’s stretched out in bed against the pillows, one arm bent behind his head, the other holding his phone, thumb idly scrolling. Gray sweatpants sit low on his hips, and his chest is bare.

As soon as he notices me, he sets it down on the nightstand, his gaze dragging over me until his brows pull together slightly. I shift my weight and then casually bring my hands forward, showing him the masks.

His glances at them and then back to me, his lips twitching. “Oh, we’re skipping to that stage now?”

His fingers wrap around my wrist, giving a slight tug until I’m on top of him, straddling his waist.

I settle against him, holding up the two masks between us. “Hmm. Pink or blue for you?”

I tilt the blue toward him like I’m considering it and then shake my head. “No, definitely pink.”

His brows lift in amusement. I press my palm against his chest. “Okay, close your eyes.”

He doesn’t move right away, just watches me, hands sliding under my robe and palms resting against the bare skin of my thighs.

“Close them,” I repeat, giving him a pointed look.