“Still with me?” he murmured, before slapping her ass with more force than she would have expected. She gasped, then purred a soft “mm-hmm,” because that was the sweetest heat she’d ever experienced.
She dropped from her hands to her elbows as he slid back inside in one slow, deep glide. Dear God, she had no idea how freaking good that would feel. Grayson was big—everywhere—so she definitely felt the stretch, but she didn’t mind it a bit.
His hands gripped her hips once more, using that hold to pull her back and forth. She was quickly becoming obsessed with his little grunts and moans. The idea that she was able to excite this strong, confident, dominant man made her feel powerful and sexy, two words she’d never—not once—used to describe herself.
When Grayson reached around her waist with one hand, his fingers finding her clit, she squeaked as those flashes of lightning flared back to life.
She was going to come again.
“That’s it, little bird,” he praised. “Come again for me. Let me feel that tight pussy tremble around my dick.”
She pressed her forehead to the couch cushion, his dirty talk the equivalent of throwing gasoline on a raging fire. Her body began to shake as her fourth orgasm struck hard.
“Grayson!” she yelled.
This time, he was there as well, calling her name as he came inside her.
When Wren opened her eyes, awareness crept back in slowly. She was still on the couch, but she was lying flat on her stomach. It took a few moments and a lot of blinking to clear her vision enough to see her surroundings again.
Grayson, still naked, sat on the floor in front of the couch, right by her head. He was stroking her hair gently.
“Welcome back,” he said in a gravelly voice.
She frowned. “Did I pass out?”
He grinned—or maybe smirked was a better term—when she asked her question.
“Oh yeah.”
Her laugh was breathy. She was too tired to produce more sound than that. “You’re way too pleased.”
“Damn right, I am. That’s a first for me.”
“It was all a first for me,” she said, exhaustion kicking in even after her apparent power nap.
“Come on, little bird. We’re staying here tonight.” He helped her rise from the couch, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist as she wobbled on unsteady legs. He’d fucked her boneless. Neither of them bothered to get dressed. Hell, they didn’t even pick up their clothing.
And again, given his wide grin, it was obvious that he was far too pleased with himself.
They walked to the bathroom first, where he produced two new toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste.
“Dropped off provisions this afternoon, just in case,” he explained, when she gave him a curious look.
She giggled.
“What can I say?” he said, shrugging. “I’m an optimist.”
She rolled her eyes, watching him brush his teeth through his reflection in the mirror, loving the domesticity of the simple act.
They walked back to the bedroom, Grayson leaving the bathroom light on and leaving the door open halfway, ensuring they weren’t swamped in darkness.
“Thank you,” she murmured, when he reached the bed and pulled back the handmade quilt.
“I’ll hit the store tomorrow and stock up on nightlights. For nights when we stay here,” he added.
“We’re going to start staying here?”
“I’d like to,” he admitted.
