I don’t plan to.
I work her with my mouth and tongue, learning what makes her moan, what makes her shake. When I slide two fingers inside her, her body bows, a sound caught somewhere between plea and praise, her walls clenching around me.
“That’s it, love,” I murmur against her. “Let me feel you.”
I pump my fingers slow and deep, curling them to hit that spot that makes her cry out while my tongue flicks her clit. She’s close—I can feel it in the way her thighs shake, the way her breathing turns ragged.
“Gray—I’m—”
“Come for me, Bree,” I growl against her. “I want to taste it.”
She shatters.
Her orgasm crashes through her, and I hold her down as she thrashes, my mouth working her through it until she’s gasping, oversensitive, pulling at my hair.
Only then do I pull back, pressing one last kiss to her inner thigh before crawling back up her body.
She looks wrecked. Beautiful. Mine.
“Holy shit,” she breathes.
I grin, kissing her so she can taste herself on my lips. “We’re not done.”
Her eyes widen slightly, her gaze dropping between us. I’m already hard—have been since the moment I shifted back—and now there’s nothing between us. Her hand slides down my stomach, wrapping around my cock, and I groan.
“Fuck, Bree—”
She strokes me once, twice, her thumb swiping over the head where pre-cum beads. “I want you inside me.”
I nearly lose it right there.
“Tell me you want this,” I manage, my voice rough as I settle between her thighs, the head of my cock brushing against her entrance. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.” Her hands slide up my back, pulling me closer. “I need you. Please.”
I push inside slowly, and we both groan at the sensation.
She’s so tight. So wet. So perfect.
I have to close my eyes, fighting for control as I sink deeper. When I’m fully seated, I pause, giving her time to adjust, her walls fluttering around me.
“Okay?” I manage, my voice rough.
“Yes.” She rolls her hips, and I see stars. “Move. Please.”
I pull back slowly, then thrust back in, deeper this time. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Like that?” I ask, doing it again.
“Yes—fuck, yes—”
I set a rhythm, slow and deep, watching her face as I take her. Every expression. Every moan. Every time her eyes flutter closed in pleasure.
But when she wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me even deeper, something shifts.
The control I’ve been clinging to fractures.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I manage, my voice rough, every muscle locked tight.
