As if sensing my panic, he closes the robe at my middle and leans even closer, keeping it shut. The heat from his body melts through the single layer separating us as he nudges his knee between my legs and lowers his mouth to mine. I wait for his kiss, but it’s words that drift across my swollen lips instead.
“There’s no need to be shy, Jill. You’re fucking beautiful.”
I tighten my hold on his towel. “This isn’t . . .”
“Isn’t what?” he murmurs, sliding his mouth down my jaw to kiss the soft underside.
“We aren’t going to be doing this in front of my family.”
“I hope not. Nobody needs to see you like this but me.”
The brute possessiveness in his statement shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does. I shouldn’t be lifting my hips in search of feeling his knee pressed against where I’m aching. That isn’t friendly in the slightest. But this isn’t that at all. What I’m feeling now is pure, unaltered lust for the man who seems to know exactly what to say to get my walls to drop and who touches me as though he’s mapped my entire body with his fingertips.
“We’re friends,” I argue weakly, suddenly hating how the words taste.
He nips at my skin before sucking away the burn. “We are.”
“So why?—”
My ability to speak dies when he gives me what I’ve been wanting. The firm press of his knee against my damp panties steals my breath. I wiggle my hips and rub against the pressure, desperate for relief. This tug in my middle won’t settle. I’m hot and damp all over, not just between my legs.
“Stop trying to convince yourself that there’s something wrong with how you feel. Turn that gorgeous mind of yours off right now and just live in this moment with me,” Grayson demands, continuing to suck and bite at my throat.
I want to.
This right here is what I’ve been craving from a man forsodamn long. Confidence and eagerness in the bedroom oftentimes don’t mix when it comes to those I find myself falling for. It’s one or the other, never both. But this—this is both. And I know that if I let this happen, I won’t want to stop. Not now in this hotel room or back home, where these thoughts that have been unlocked can’t exist.
The sting from his teeth is replaced with his hand. This time when he holds my throat, he squeezes. Harder and harder, his fingers press into my skin, and my breath grows strained as my airway narrows. He shoves his knee further between my legs and leans over me, watching as I sip in small breaths and jerk my hips. Slowly, I rub myself against him and get rewarded with swelling pleasure.
“That’s it. Rub your pussy against me, sweetheart. I can feel how wet you are. You’re getting me nice and slick.”
The words filter into my subconscious as I move faster, unable to help myself. His praise makes me feel . . . unstoppable. My toes curl into the thin carpet beneath us as I ride his thigh, needing more. Needing all of it. Panic darkens the corners of my vision when I think of him pulling away?—
“Don’t make me stop,” I beg, his hold on my throat keeping my voice quiet and strained.
He loosens his grip just enough that I can get a full breath into my lungs. I stare up at the ceiling and choke on a whimper when he slides a hand into my robe and skims the skin beneath the band of my bra. My nipples bead, somehow becoming harder than they were as they scrape the fabric trapping them.
“We’re not stopping until you come all over my thigh, Jill.”
Electricity jolts through me like I’ve just stuck a fork into an outlet. Grayson fills his hand with my breast before thumbing my nipple through the cup of my bra. My pussy squeezes aroundnothing as I clutch his shoulder and rub myself harder against his bare thigh. I’m practically clawing at him now, but he doesn’t tell me to stop.
With two fingers, he pinches my nipple and gives it an experimental roll. My eyes find his, and somehow, I manage to keep from closing them as sparks explode from my chest and cascade down my middle, pooling at my core. He repeats the motion a bit harder this time.
“You’re almost there, aren’t you? I can see it written all over your face. Your pussy might be soaking those pretty panties, sweetheart, but it’s your eyes that give you away. Now, I want to watch them roll back into your goddamn skull.”
The feral darkness that clings to his voice sends me over the edge. He squeezes my throat harder once again, and I know without a doubt that there’s no escaping this. Reality skips as my muscles coil and burn from the pleasure barrelling through me. My voice cuts the tension between us, and then there’s nothing but quiet.
Grayson’s thigh remains between my legs as I jerk softly against him. With an arm sliding around my back, he holds me up while my knees wobble and guides me to the bed. Only once I’ve pulled myself from the fog in my mind do I snap my hands across my body, remembering that my robe is open.
It’s been closed and the belt tied.
Blinking, I look to where he stands before me, watching silently. He’s leaning back against the small desk I was using to get ready, his arms at his sides, hands gripping the wooden edge. By some miracle, his towel is still tied, but the giant bulge tucked up beneath the small knot seems to be just as disappointed by that as I am. Because holy shit, it’s huge. And not only in the sense of length, but thickness too. I’m talking holyow. It’s got to be at least eight inches . . . maybe more, if I had to guess. Which is theonlything I’m going to be doing.
Diverting my stare, I focus on his bare chest, which isn’t much easier to look at, considering I’m trying to get myself back together instead of losing it all over again. I squint at the small red lines marking his abs and up to his shoulder. My cheeks heat like a motherfucker when I realize they’re scratch marks. Ones that I left.
His lips quirk slightly at the corner. “They don’t hurt.”
“That’s . . . good.”
