Grim was on top of me, taking up all the space and pressing me into the mattress. My head caged by his elbows, his face so close to mine, his stare inescapable.
“Touch yourself, Gemma,” he commanded again.
If I thought it was vulnerable before, it was agonizing now. He wasn’t looking between my thighs, he was watchingme, stripping away all my layers.
My breathing was shaky as I slid my hand back down my body. I did as I was told, touching myself like no one was watching. Warmth melted inside my skin like butter, andgoose bumps peppered my flesh. A knot started to form in my gut, begging to be undone.
It’s too quiet.
No man wants that.
Little voices poked at me, and I nearly opened my mouth to moan, but the look in Grim’s eyes stopped me—burning coals. As if I was the hottest thing, like he was getting off on this as much as me—morethan me.
It made the knot grow tighter.
With Horace—with any guy, really—I could always hide because they didn’twantthe reality of me. They preferred the lies I gave them. The fake moans and gasps.
With Grim I was a shadow trying to run from the sun.
And it boiled me alive.
A small, involuntary whimper slid from my lips. Grim responded with a savage smile splitting his lips.
“There it is.” One hand knotted painfully—deliciously—in my hair as his lips dove to my neck. “Give me more of that.”
When I started again, I let myself drown in his hunger and possession. His sweet-painful grip in my hair. His whispers hot against my skin.
Good girl.
Good fucking girl.
His praise slid like heroin into my bloodstream until I was dizzy with it. A moan fell from my lips?—
Quicker than a flash, he tugged my head back by the hair, giving me a look both feral and censuring. Using the hand knotted in my hair, he twisted my head to the side to see what he was looking at. My double doors, where Wraith’s body made a silhouette.
Oh, right.
After a torturous minute, his grip loosened.
His lips found the crook beneath my ear. “Can you stay quiet?”
I tried to nod, but his grip was too firm in my hair. The up-and-down movements tugged my hair painfully.
“Good girl,” he said, and released me.
Grim stood back up between my thighs. The next part played out in slow motion, time passing with the throb of my heartbeat. His hand at his zipper. Metal teeth slowly parting. His thick, tatted cock.
“Don’t stop touching yourself.” He gripped his cock as he spoke, his command punctuated by the bruising grip.
I obeyed, hand moving back between my legs. I was locked on him, in a trance. I hadn’t seen him,reallyseen him, since that night on the beach. Wicked black tattoos slid down the gutters of his Adonis belt, encircling his cock.
It was so painfully difficult to keep quiet.
He tugged his cock with mesmerizing brutality, the flex of his long fingers barely wrapping around his width. I touched myself in rhythm with him.
It grew harder to stay quiet.
I’d never had trouble before; I could always be what anyone wanted. But now? The savage way he gripped his cock, the burn in his eyes, like he was holding himself from plunging into me, had me biting my lip near bloody to keep from crying out.
