“Take them off,” she whispers.
I nearly come undone hearing her ask for me like that.
I stand long enough to shove my pants and briefs down, my cock springing free, heavy and aching.
Her eyes widen. Her lips part.
Fuck.
I grip myself, stroking slowly to take the edge off, and crawl back over her.
“You okay?” I murmur, brushing her hair back.
She nods quickly, too quickly. “Yes. I want you.”
I line myself up, sliding the head of my cock through her wetness. We both groan. Her hips lift off the bed, needy and desperate.
“Fucking hell, Ro,” I growl. “You’re so wet.”
“Grant… please.”
I push into her slowly.
She gasps, clutching my shoulders. I stop halfway, kissing her, letting her adjust.
Her eyes squeeze shut. She breathes shakily.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” I whisper.
She shakes her head. “No. I-I want all of you.”
I slide the rest of the way in, burying myself to the hilt.
Her breath breaks in a sharp cry. I groan into her neck, shaking with the effort of not slamming into her right away.
She’s tight. Hot. Perfect.
I wait until her thighs relax around my hips, until her fingers loosen on my shoulders, until her breath steadies.
Then she kisses me, softly at first, then deeper, her hips rocking up to meet mine.
That’s all it takes.
I pull out slowly, then thrust back in, deeper this time. She moans into my mouth. I do it again, faster, her body meeting mine perfectly. Her nails drag down my back. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer.
“Grant,” she gasps, voice breaking.
“Look at me,” I rasp.
She opens her eyes.
I thrust harder.
Her breath shatters.
“Jesus, Rowan… you feel so good,” I groan, my pace quickening.
I brace one hand beside her head and slide the other under her thigh, lifting it higher, opening her up. She cries out as the new angle lets me thrust deeper, harder.
