“You want it too, don’t you?” His large palm encircles my waist, and he tugs me toward him, repositioning us so my back is pressed against the fencing. “I can see the way you’re clenching your thighs together. Your breathy pants and this pulse point right here. . .” He dips his head and bites my collarbone, right below my throbbing pulse. “If I were to reach under this dress, would you be soaked for me?”
I gasp when his fingers drag along the hem of my short sundress.
“Answer me, Taylor. Are you fucking wet for me?”
“Yes,” I pant, his filthy words spurring me on.
Palming my ass, he pulls me into him and I feel his hard length against me. “Do you feel how much I want you?” He grinds into me, eliciting a moan. The gold flecks in his eyes catch against the fading sun and he looks devilish like this.
“Grant . . .”
“Say it again,” he growls, tightening his grip on my ass. He reaches his other hand up, resting it on the railing behind my head and caging me in.
“Oh my god.” I clench around nothing, desperately needing to be filled, but only if it’s him filling me up.
“That’s right, Tay baby, pray to me and maybe you’ll get what you want.”
“Grant, please.”
“Please what? Please fuck you in the dugout like a dirty whore where anyone could see you?”
“We can’t do this here.” My words are weak, even to my own ears—a useless fight because he could tell me to do anything right now and I’d do it.
“This is my stadium. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
“Don’t you mean our stadium?” I challenge, purely to provoke him into letting go. Now that we’re in this situation, I want nothing more than to be owned by him. To send him over the edge until he takes out all the frustration on me.
“No, wife. It’s mine. You weren’t here for this part.”
The barb stings, hitting right between the ribs as if he’d pierced it with a knife. The reminder that he’s lived a whole life without me, that we both have, hurts my heart, but there’s no time to dwell on that now. Not when he’s looking at me with a predatory glare, commanding and sinful.
“I have half a mind to punish you for that before taking what I really want.” My heart rate intensifies at the promise in those eyes. Pleasure and pain.
“Now, turn around and bend over the railing.”
He doesn’t wait for me to move—he spins me around so fast, my hair whips into my face and my dress flutters around me.
My hands grip the top of the fence as he lifts my hips until I’m standing on my tippy-toes.
“Bend.” He pushes down on my upper back to get the angle he wants. Lifting my dress, he slaps my ass and the crack of his palm against my skin echoes around us.
“Fuck.” I arch, needing more.
“Greedy, aren’t you?” Grant runs a soothing hand over where he just smacked me.
“More,” I pant.
“You’re not in control right now, wife. I am. You’ve had your chance. This is my time, and we’ll go at whatever speed I decide.”
He brings his hand down onto my other cheek and I shriek at the contact. My clit pulses at the action.
“Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are for me.”
The answer is drenched. I can feel the slickness between my thighs. He kicks my ankles wider as I hook a finger into the side of my underwear and move it over to expose myself.
“You may not want me, but your pussy sure does.”
I shake my head at his words because they couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s not that I don’t want him, but I’m terrified he won’t want me once he knows my truth.
