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Fabric rustled as she guided his pants down the rest of his legs and tugged them free of his ankles. He watched her, feeling too big for his skin, near bursting at the chest.
“Suck me,” he whispered. “Take me in your mouth and eat me like there’s no tomorrow.”
She drew his dick up from his stomach and her mouth enveloped him fully at the tip, her lips sliding down. He stretched his arms on the couch back, bracing himself with his hands.
“God.” He bucked up, and a shuddering breath tore out of him. He pumped up again, and she moved her head down, her tongue flat under him. Delicious.
They established a rhythm that gradually increased in speed. He groaned through a strained throat, blind, glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling. His every cell thrilled, his penis an oversized stick gliding in her silky, wet mouth.
“Ride me.”
The sound she made was muffled by the engorged width of his flesh. She let it slip out of her mouth and rubbed her face against him, nuzzling his balls, his penis. Her words quivered against him. “I love you.”
He let his eyes drift shut, tightly shut. Maybe he hadn’t really heard it before. Or maybe he hadn’t heard it in a while. Maybe he just needed to hear it more than he needed air. Maybe that’s why his chest throbbed. Why it cramped and released at just hearing it. Maybe that’s why he needed to hear it again.
Almost violently, he grabbed her hair and lifted her face up, his words exploding out of him and into her moist mouth. “I adore you. Adore you. I love you passionately. Completely. With all my heart and my soul.”
Trails of wet tears met his palms on her jaw, and as though to hide them, she buried her face in his neck as she took his penis inside her. She clutched at his shoulders and he wrapped his arms around her, groaning when they were one. Why was she crying? Why was she crying?
For Heath. He knew it was Heath. He nudged her face to the side and rubbed his lips over the tears, salty on his tongue. “I’m sorry I don’t say it.” He wiped the drops with his hands, his mouth. “You make me weak, and I fear that you can hurt me. But you like hearing it, don’t you?” She choked on a little sound. Oh yes, she did love it, she wanted it. “I love you—god, you know I do.”
She clutched his face, kissing him passionately, the taste of tears on her lips. “You won’t stop loving me?”
“Never.”
“Ever?”
“Toni.” He shifted her, still inside her as he lay her down the length of the couch and made love to her so, so softly. Dying a little. Dying a little more. Tracing her collarbone with his nose. Tracing her cheek. Inhaling her. “You’re like my skin—how could I feel without it? Like my blood—what would my heart pump without my blood?”
And she cried more. And Grey didn’t know what to do but move. Fold her legs around him and move. And move and move and forget.And tell her how good she was. How sweet. How warm he felt inside her. How she was his home, his heart, his everything living. Until she whimpered. And she forgot Heath, too. And she came. And Grey came. And there was no one else coming but them.
Chapter Thirteen
Mr. Carstairs wanted his money back. He did not like Toni’s design.
“He’s right—it sucks.” Toni grimaced, dropping the proposal atop the rest of her clutter. Dinner had been awful. She had never been so unprepared and unfocused. She braced her hands on the edge of her desk and tried to calm down, gather her thoughts.
From his position lounging on the couch, Grey scrutinized her in silence. She sensed him waiting for her to offer more, and she rubbed the tense muscles at the back of her neck and sighed.
“I just can’t understand why I can’t come up with anything original. It’s like my muse completely dried up. Now I have no pending clients, and of the appointments I rescheduled, two of them canceled. I’m going nowhere with the Viscevis logo, either! If I hadn’t been gallivanting around Mexico so irresponsibly . . .” She went quiet, flipped open her proposal, and fingered the design.
“So how is Heath?” The casualness she tried to inject in her tone was not evident when the words came out a little high-pitched.
A long, dreadful silence followed before Grey answered. “He’s fine.”
Fine. Of course. He was fine.Why wouldn’t he be? He was big and dark and determined....
She needed to stop thinking of Grey and Heath and Mexico. She needed to reclaim her life, her work, to land more business.
The Viscevis logo. It would be such a coup. She shuffled a pile of papers until she came across the two logos. One a sleek cylinder inside a vine forming a circle, the other a solid gray ball in motion. How to integrate the two . . . ?
She sighed within minutes. “I’ll never do this.”
Grey was on his way to her when she pivoted around. He framed her cheeks in his hands and touched his nose to her forehead, then kissed her so gently she sighed.“It’s all in here. In this brilliant brain of yours. All you have to do is find it.”
“It’s not that easy. . . .” she protested. Things weren’t always so simple. Not all designs could merge.
When he captured her lips with his, she whispered his name in a reverent breath, allowing him access to every recess and nook of her mouth.
