She gladly obliges, pulling one hand away from her breast to grip my cock, using the same pressure I showed her before. She twists and pumps, hitting her fist against her mouth as she sucks me off. Her other hand comes up, sliding over my stomach and my chest as her eyes admire my body. I’m a big guy, there’s no doubt about that. I’vebeen big my whole life, and only good at something that requires my weight. Good on the farm, at playing football, at moving heavy furniture. I’ve never been wanted for much more than that. I’m not going to be on the cover of a fitness magazine and I can’t compete with anyone that has abs, but fuck, the way her eyes are drinking me in right now tells me she doesn’t care about any of that.
“Touch yourself, Holly. Use your free hand to touch yourself and show me how wet you are.”
Her movements fumble, eyes fluttering, but she does as I ask, reaching down to graze her fingers over her stomach. Her eyes close the second her hand disappears under her panties and between her legs, and I can’t hold it in anymore.
With a hand on her chin, I tilt her face up so her eyes are on me. “I’m going to come baby, and I want you to swallow every last drop like the good girl I know you are. Understood?”
She whimpers at that, and it’s my undoing. With a practical roar, I come, pumping my hips as I spill down her throat. Holly doesn’t falter, no, she keeps pumping her fist, just like I asked, until I’m spent. Until I’m panting and hunched over with a fist balancing on the bed. She doesn’t stop until I gently push at her shoulder, and then she leans back on her haunches, a satisfied smile crossingher face as she daintily swipes a mixture of saliva and cum from her lip. “Was that alright?” she coos, and I exhale roughly, reaching down to grip her by the biceps.
Holly squeals as I lift her right off of her knees, tossing her on the bed with a bounce. By the second bounce, I’m on her, pinning her down and shoving my own hand down her panties to find her just as I expected—drenched.
She moans as I circle her clit with my thumb and shove two fingers into her tight cunt. My mouth latches onto the side of her neck, sucking hard as she grinds against me. I need to taste her, to have her drench my face, but before I can move down, she’s clawing at my shoulders, rocking her hips against my hand, her pussy clenching around my fingers as her hands fumble for my face.
She pulls me to her in a hard kiss, and one of the many things I’ve learned is that she likes me to kiss her as she comes. I gladly oblige, pressing my mouth to hers, swallowing her scream as she bucks and her hips wildly bounce off the bed. Once she’s sated, her body twitching, she reaches down to wrap a hand around my wrist and gently pulls me out of her.
We both look down at her orgasm coating my fingers, and then I bring them to my mouth, past my lips, and I lick them clean. She raises a hand to cup the side ofmy face and her fingertips dance through the tips of my hair. A softer look crosses her face, one very different than the heated, erotic one she had a few minutes ago. And I wonder if she’s thinking the very same thing that I am, that this thing between us, what we have, there’s no way this is temporary.
This woman is it for me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Holly
Igraze my fingertips across Grayson’s bare chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull me to sleep. He’s quiet beneath me, both of us unable to do much after our mind-melting orgasms. We had barely crawled under the covers before he pulled me to him. I’m still wearing my drenched underwear, and while he shucked off his pants that had been hanging around his ankles, I’m pretty sure he’s still wearing his socks.
My finger traces a small crease in his skin, a divot, one that I can recognize in the dark as a scar. I rise on my elbow, moving over his chest to get a better view of the mark that’s hidden by chest hair. “What’s this from?”
“Mmmmm…” He thinks, eyes still shut. “Wasn’t paying attention when I was a teenager, drove the four wheeler through a barbed-wire fence.”
“Ouch.” I lean over, gently kissing the area. I take his corded forearm in my hand, dancing my fingers over the scar I know too well. “I know where this one came from.” My hand then trails up to the longest scar, the one that’s a crescent shape over his bicep. “And this one?”
He opens his eyes now, turning his head to look at the spot on his arm. “I got that one when I was a little kid. My dad and Pops were chopping up a fallen tree. They told me to stay back, to stay away from the chainsaw.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t listen.”
“Nope. Went to reach for a twig that had fallen off of the log they were cutting and the tip of the chainsaw nipped me pretty good.”
“Yikes. I’ll say.” I twist his arm, letting the light of the moon showcase just how long it really is. “You’re lucky you didn’t lose your whole arm.”
“I think I blocked most of the memory out. Ma said that they ran into the house with me in Pops’s arms, and I looked at her dead serious and said, ‘I’m okay, I just need a Band-Aid.’”
I giggle at that, absolutely believing his story. The Grayson I know doesn’t stop for an injury, and he doesn’t like to inconvenience anyone. “So, apparently you’ve always put others first, hey?” I mean it to tease, because I understand somewhat why he didn’t come to the clinicright away when he sliced his arm, or why he waited to get his sutures out. But his expression is flat, staring slightly past my shoulder toward the wall.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.” I sit up a little higher, letting the sheet fall and expose my breasts. I swing a leg over his waist, and reach for his hands, forcing him to rest his palms on my hips. His eyes dart to mine, and a soft smile appears on his lips.
“No, I know you didn’t mean it like that, baby.”
I cover his hands with mine, squeezing once. “But it might be close to the truth?”
His gaze is locked on our hands, and he squeezes. He runs his palms up my sides, over my chest, tenderly cupping a breast in one hand.
“I’ve always felt kind of like I was standing in the background, even with my own family.” His voice is ever so soft. “They love me, I know that. But Theo has always been a wild one. We joke that he’s getting gray hair because of the stress he’s put himself through. Harper, well … no one knows what to think about Harper.”
“I happen to think Harper is amazing. I think she’s got more to her than you guys realize.”
He shrugs one shoulder, letting his hands slide back down to my hips. “She is, but she's hell on wheels. And then there’s Lukas. He’s always needed a little moreattention. He’s also a bit wild, but more of a hothead. And then baseball became his life. He had so much potential, such a future ahead of him. My parents scraped up as much money as they could to buy him gear, a trainer, to pay for special camps. They were so proud of him. And then when it all fell apart, my mom would worry herself sick.” He releases his hold on me, swiping a hand across his forehead and over his scruff before tucking it behind his head.
When he’s quiet for a few more minutes, I take his hand that’s still touching me and hold it between both of mine. “And you felt like everyone had so much to worry about, well, with the farm, and your siblings, you didn’t want anyone to have to worry about you?”
