Grant groaned and captured her mouth in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. He eased her back onto the bed, following her down, covering her body with his.
Riley's hands were everywhere—his back, his shoulders, his hair. She arched against him, and Grant could feel her heart racing against his chest.
"I love you," he said against her throat, pressing kisses there. "God, Riley, I love you so much."
"Show me," she breathed.
So he did.
Grant took his time with her, learning her all over again. He kissed her shoulders, the curve of her collarbone, the valley between her breasts. Every gasp, every arch, every whispered sound of his name—he paid attention to all of it.
His hands roamed her sides, her hips, relearning what he already knew. Every touch was deliberate. Intentional. Like he was proving to both of them that this time was different. This time it was real.
"Grant." Riley's voice was breathless. "Please."
"Please what?" He kissed the spot just below her ear that made her shiver.
"I need—" She broke off on a gasp as his mouth found her breast. "I need more."
Grant looked up at her, his eyes dark. "Tell me what you need."
"You." Her hands fisted in his hair. "All of you. Now."
"I'm savoring you." Grant's smile was wicked as his hands slid lower, finding the waistband of her jeans. "Now that I know you're staying, now that this is real, I'm taking my time."
He helped her out of her jeans slowly, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her exposed skin—her hip, her thigh, her knee. By the time he'd worked them off completely, Riley was trembling beneath him.
"You okay?" he asked, brushing hair back from her face.
"More than okay." Her smile was soft and sure. "I'm exactly where I want to be."
Grant kissed her again, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into it. His hand traced patterns on her thigh, her hip, her stomach, learning her. Riley's breathing quickened, her hands clutching at his shoulders.
"This is different," Grant murmured against her lips. "Knowing you're staying. Knowing this is real. It changes everything."
"Everything." Riley's voice shook. "And I can’t wait."
When he finally touched her where she needed him most, Riley arched off the bed with a gasp. Grant watched her face, mesmerized by every expression—the way her eyes fluttered closed, the way her lips parted, the flush spreading across her chest.
"Look at me," he said softly.
Riley's eyes opened, hazy with pleasure, and locked on his.
"I love you," Grant said, his fingers moving in slow circles that made her breath hitch. "I love you so much."
"I love you too." Riley's voice broke. "Grant, please, I need?—"
"I know what you need." He kissed her deeply, then began trailing kisses down her body—her throat, her breasts, her stomach—until he settled between her thighs.
Riley's breath caught. "Grant?—"
"Let me taste you," he murmured against her inner thigh. "I want to feel you come undone."
When his mouth found her, Riley cried out, her hips lifting off the bed. Grant gripped her thighs, holding her steady as he worked her with his tongue—slow and deliberate at first, learning what made her gasp, what made her writhe.
"Oh god," Riley moaned, her hands fisting in his hair. "Grant, that feels?—"
He hummed against her, and Riley's words dissolved into broken sounds of pleasure. She was uninhibited like this, herbody moving against his mouth, chasing what she needed. No holding back. No pretending. Just pure, honest want.
