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How much better it would feel.
Gray drives into me again and again, dropping his head to lick and suck at my breasts as he does. He drags my nipple between his teeth, biting just hard enough to send a ripple of sensation racing toward my clit.
I fist his hair and yank his head back up to mine, attacking him with another kiss until he breaks away again.
His blue-green eyes are glassy with desire, and a sheen of sweat slicks his forehead as he reaches behind him to unwind my legs from around his muscled hips. He pins my legs to his chest and then leans forward, holding on to my ankles and nearly folding me in half. The angle of penetration changes, making him hit a new spot deep inside me with each thrust.
“Play with your tits,” he grunts, his hungry gaze settling on my breasts.
My nipples are already so hard they could cut glass, but his focus on them makes my chest flush.
I don’t even pretend to resist his command. We’re so far past that point by now that I can’t even see it in the rearview mirror. Instead, I keep my gaze locked on his as I palm my breasts, tweaking and flicking my nipples as little whimpers fall from my lips.
“Jesus. I need a taste. Goddamn you, Sparrow.”
He stops thrusting suddenly, releasing my legs and yanking my hands away from my breasts. In a flash, he pins my wrists to the mattress beside my head like he’s jealous of me for being the one to touch myself. Then his mouth is on me again, his tongue trailing a line between my breasts before he picks one and devours it. He draws as much into his mouth as he can, sucking so hard the pressure is painful. A jolt of sensation travels to my clit, turning the pain into pleasure.
“Fuck!”
I yank my wrists from his hold and grab his head, practically crushing it as I smash his face against my breast, arching my back and clenching hard around his cock. He growls like an animal before switching his attention to my other breast.
Nothing about it is gentle.
Nothing about it is tender.
It’s like being hit with a thousand volts of electricity, currents of sensation traveling through me so fast that I feel like I’m about to explode.
I’m panting and writhing beneath him, humping his cock with little pulses of my hips as my pussy tightens around him. But before the pleasure building inside me can reach its peak, he releases my breast with a wet pop and pulls back.
An angry, shocked cry escapes me when he slides out of me, and he shoots me a feral grin before grabbing my hips and flipping me over. My chest hits the mattress, and he pulls me up onto my knees and elbows before slamming back into me, thrusting so hard I almost collapse.
Not that he’d let me do that.
I may barely be capable of supporting my own weight right now, but Gray isn’t letting me go anywhere. His fingers dig into my hips so hard I can already feel the bruises forming as he pounds into me with short, sharp strokes.
When my orgasm hits, my arms finally do give out. I bury my face in the comforter and arch my back, screaming into the mattress. Gray’s hips slap against my ass as he fucks me in a frenzy, my spent body limp in his hold. Then he buries himself to the hilt with a choked grunt, following me over the edge.
He releases his grip on my hips, and for a second, his heated body drapes over mine. I swear I feel the soft brush of lips over the bird tattoo on my shoulder, but it’s so light I wonder if I imagined it.
With a low grunt, he pulls out and flops onto the bed next to me at the same time I collapse in a sated heap.
Holy shit.
I just fucked Gray Eastwood.
Again.
16
I roll over onto my back, panting.
My hair sticks to my forehead, matted to my skin in sweat. I can smell the salt of it thick in the air, and that soft yet undeniably noticeable scent that can only be described as sex. It clings to the sheets, to my pillows, fogs up my brain in an afterglow that I most definitely shouldn’t be feeling with Gray Eastwood.
Gray’s on his back too, breathing just as hard as I am. When I look over, I see his nostrils flare with each inhale and exhale, his chest rising and falling in deep movements like he’s trying to get his bearings through his breaths.
Yeah. That makes two of us.
Whatever insane, dangerous chemistry existed between us all those months ago when we hooked up at The Silent Hour, it hasn’t gone away.
