Ciar bit her inner thigh, leaving an impressive souvenir, before standing and shutting off the water.
Towels were handily hanging on a warmer as soon as he opened the steam-filled shower. He wrapped Gray in the soft, white folds before quickly using one to furiously dry his body.
Seeing her drooping lids, he said, “You'd better get your second wind, Gray MacGregor. I’m not finished with you yet.”
eleven
GRAY
Between a killer orgasmand jet lag, Gray barely managed to stumble to the big bed that had been calling her name for hours. Falling onto the plush pillowtop and sleeping until morning sounded perfect.
However, the minute Ciar’s towel dropped, and it was clear that he was far from sated, a shot of adrenaline catapulted through her body, knocking the drowsy right out of her.
They stood facing each other, him naked and wanting, her draped in a towel and wanting. “I thought we were taking things slowly.”
“I still taste you on my lips, Gray. Slow went out the window the moment you didn’t kick me out of your shower.”
He wasn’t wrong. “True. What now?” She had a comfort level after years of being friends, but she wasn’t exactly some female lothario.
Ciar took over and walked her backwards until her legs hit the bed. With his fingers curled over the edge of her towel, he loomed over her. “Did you like my mouth on you?”
“You know I did,” she answered truthfully. When Ciar crowded her, Gray’s body shivered in anticipation, clearly loving his domineering side.
“How many men have you let do that to you?”
His question took her by surprise. Speaking of past conquests hardly seemed appropriate, but if he wanted to know, she wasn't ashamed.
“You’re the second.” She felt his grip on the plush cotton at her chest tighten.
“Who?”
“I’m not discussing him with you, Ciar.”
“Did you fancy yourself in love?”
She refused to allow him to bully her about her past. “I didn’t fancy anything. I did love him.”
That took him back. He winced at her honesty. “Why wasn’t he the man in your shower instead of me, then?” He tugged roughly at her towel until the tuck came free and fell to the floor.
He lifted her until her legs had little choice but to wrap around his waist. Gray moaned as his sex aligned with her incredibly sensitive one.
She tried to kiss him, but he pulled out of reach, not giving her what she wanted until she gave him what he wanted first. “We…we broke up because he moved to the States,” she stuttered, because he might not have allowed the kiss, but he was slowly driving her mad below.
Truly, Cannon wasn’t taking up even the slightest bit of her brain right now. She couldn’t understand why Ciar was pushing the subject.
“Do you speak to him still?” He grasped her waist and lifted her, tossing her naked body on the bed before quickly covering her with his. His skin was hot as a furnace, and she groaned at how good he felt.
“Answer me,” he demanded.
It took her a moment to remember the question. “Occasionally.”
He pinned her head between his forearms, his fierce countenance hovering above her. “Lose his fucking number, Gray. Never again. You’re mine, and I don’t fucking share,” he growled.
The spell his dick had put her under fizzled at his autocratic tone. “I suppose you’ll promise me the same level of exclusivity?” She smirked, knowing he’d never been exclusive with anyone in his life.
“I swear it to you, Gray. I meant it when I said I wanted to make a go of us. I haven’t been with another woman, sexually,” he grumbled as though he was embarrassed to discuss his sexcapades, “for almost seven months, and even then, it was a meaningless one-night stand. Hell, the totality of my experiences has been meaningless.
“You’re different, and I want to know that I’m different to you too.” He nudged her entrance with his length, causing her to momentarily lose the train of her thought.
