"Good girl," I tell her, and her responding shiver tells me everything I need to know about where this night is headed.
twenty-seven
. . .
Sophia
I'm notsure what is happening, but I am here for it. His eyes are dark with promise, burning into me with an intensity that steals my breath. He's gripping the door handle like it's the only thing keeping him anchored to reality, and his knuckles are white with restraint. His chest rises and falls with deep, controlled breaths that tell me just how close he is to losing that iron control he's famous for. When his eyes rake over me, there's something primal there, something that makes my heart race and my skin tingle with anticipation. He's going to devour me. The thought sends a shiver down my spine.
His command to strip comes out as a growl, rough and unhinged, so different from his usual measured tones. It bypasses all thought, shooting straight to my core, and suddenly, I'm putty in his hands, my body lighting up from the inside with need. Every cell in me yearns to obey, to please him. I can't strip fast enough, and my fingers tremble with urgency.
I pull my shorts and panties off, and as I'm reaching for my tank top, he's there, grabbing my legs and pulling me to the edge of the bed with a possessiveness that makes me dizzy with want. When he lifts my foot in his hand, the tender press of his lips against my ankle is an exquisite contrast to his earlier intensity. Each kiss as he moves up to my calf, then knee, then thigh, sends waves of sensation through me. My skin erupts in goosebumps; each touch is both soothing and electric, making me arch toward him, seeking more.
"I should've asked if you were ok with this?—"
"Yes. More than ok. Keep going. Enthusiastic consent all the way." I cut him off before he can change his mind or question what he's doing to me. I need to see where this is going. I like demanding Grant.
His hand traces the curve of my hip, and when he speaks, his voice fills the quiet pool house, low and intense. "Turn over," he commands, each word deliberate and weighted with promise. "Get on your hands and knees." The authority in his tone makes my breath catch, and heat floods my cheeks. His fingers trail along my skin, raising goosebumps in their wake, before delivering a gentle pat that makes my pulse jump.
I flip over for him, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed I am in this position. It's both thrilling and vulnerable. I've never felt more awkward yet more desperately wanted. The silence in the pool house makes everything feel amplified—my rapid breathing, the rustle of sheets, his appreciative hum. The cool air against my skin reminds me just how bare I am to his gaze, but the way his breath catches tells me he likes what he sees.
Before I can have another thought, I feel his tongue swipe through my heat, and it takes my breath away.
"You taste so fucking delicious, Sophia. I've thought about this sweet cunt all day long."
His mouth is so dirty—and I like it. He feels so good. He's got the tongue of a superhero.
He pulls back, slides his hand through my wetness, finds that magic button, and rubs against it, making my head drop, and a moan escapes from me.
"You like that, Sophia?"
"I do. I like it a lot."
He slides his fingers down my center and inserts one inside me. I groan again and lean back into it.
"Look at you grinding against my fingers. You want more?"
"Yes, give me more." I'm already close. He makes me feel like he's got the map of my body. I've had sex before, but not like this. This feels incredible, and I don't want him to stop; I want more.
He inserts another finger and slides his hand from my hip across my bottom, squeezing and rubbing it like it will bring him good luck.
"This ass almost killed me tonight. When I saw you in that bikini, I wanted to spank you for torturing me like that."
Oh. That just caused a little rush of hot liquid through me. I wonder if he could tell.
"You're clenching around me. You like the idea of being spanked?"
"Maybe."
"Ok, Sophia. But first, I want you to come forme."
His lips replace his hands on my ass, and they take a slow trail up my spine. He's gently kissing over my body as he's curling his fingers inside of me, and I feel a build-up I've never felt before. His hand glides up my side, and he places his warm palm over my chest, rubs my breasts, and pinches my nipples. It sets off a trail of sparks that erupt down my spine and into my belly, twisting the grip I have on his fingers until I'm clenching so hard I'm afraid I'm going to break them.
"Oh, Grant, don't stop. I'm going to come. Please keep touching me. Keep fucking me with your fingers. Don't. Stop." And that does it. The minute the expletive comes out of my mouth, so do I.
I rarely cuss, but I've never had an orgasm like that, either.
Before I have time to recover, I hear the tear of a condom wrapper, and I'm flat on my back.
