“Arch for me,” he commanded. I did and he groaned, felt him twitch inside me. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Yeah, just like that. Good girl.” He licked at the tender flesh of my tattoo—his mark—groaning against my neck. “So perfect.”
I felt my orgasm build with each deliberate thrust.
I was so close. My body tightened. But I needed something. I didn’t know what. I just—I needed?—
His grip tightened on my neck. “Come.”
That’s it. With his permission, I came apart. I disappeared into hot Spanish words against myflesh. I became nothing save shivers and sensation and rippling, electric currents.
When it was over, when I was nothing but raw sensation, Grim didn’t stop.
I grew hazy. I became a doll. Grim flipped me onto my stomach, pushed into me from behind. He flipped me back to my side, positioning me how he wanted. He grabbed my thigh, pulling and bending my leg at an impossible angle, so I could feel his cock deeper.
I was weightless. A pile of needy goo. I could only moan and come again.
And again.
Until the world was a delirious blur of Grim’s soft, coaxing whispers. Until I was sweat and need. Until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t come again.”
I tried to squirm away from him. He stilled, stopped moving inside me, but he didn’t let me go. His hand pressed into my stomach, keeping me in place.
“Yeah, you can. Breathe.” He thumbed circles above my belly button, waiting. I took a deep breath and he rumbled his satisfaction against my neck. “Good girl. Just like that. Take another.”
So I did.
And on the third deep breath Grim started moving inside me. The dichotomy of his gentle words and hard thrusts. How safe I felt in his arms. It spun me out.
“My slut,” he praised. “My good little slut. So obedient. Still so open for me.”
I’ve had guys try to call me a slut in bed before, but it never did anything for me. I didn’t get off on degradation. The guys in the past would say it with venom, like a punishment. Grim said it like it made me the most precious thingin the world. I got off onthat.On beinghisslut. I would do anything if it made him purr that I was a good girl.
I felt it building again.
Could feel the tightening of my thighs, the clenching of my abdomen. On a cliff’s edge, about to dive into the water.
“Don’t stop breathing, Rich Girl.”
Not realizing I’d stopped, I sucked in a deep breath and fell off the cliff. The orgasm tore through my body. Grim pumped harder and harder and I cried out, trying to bury my face in the sheets, but he tangled his hand into my hair and pulled my head back against his chest. He swallowed my screams with his mouth, his tongue diving deep into mine. I scratched at anything. His hand in my hair. The bed, pulling the sheets into a knot in my fist. The world went black, and I disappeared into sensation.
When I came to, I was no longer on my side. I was on my back, and Grim was on top of me. He stroked his fingers through my hair.
“Welcome back.” He smiled—a real fucking smile. My stomach did a somersault at the way it stretched his cheeks. It was like the sun breaking through, shining on a bloody battlefield. The light inside the darkness so clearly visible.
So perfect.
Without thought, I lifted my fingers to his smiling lips. He pressed his head into my palm, still smiling.
“Did you come?” I asked, his still hard cock like hot lead on my thigh.
In response, he lowered his head and planted a soft kiss on my shoulder, on the cluster of freckles. “These freckles? Mine.” He moved lower, kissing above my stomach. “This mole? Mine.” He dove lower, to my hip. “This dimple in your hip? Mine.” He kissed my hip, then bit it, teeth clamping softly over the bone.
“Yours,” I breathed.
Grim kept moving lower, planting kisses all along my flesh. Into the soft thatch of hair on my pussy. Lower still?—
I sat up, grabbing his hair.
