Page 25 of Grant’s Blaze

But soon, it seemed like his anticipating pause had gone on for a whole month. I finally gave up and dared a look over my shoulder—only to meet his disapproving scowl.

“What?” I blurted, fully aware—and disturbed by—how he remained back on his heels.

“I said raise your ass.” He motioned to my position like an intolerant ballet teacher correcting a student’s crappy plié.

“What?” I snapped. “And in case you didn’t notice, I—”

“This is not just your ass, is it? This is all of you.”

He gave my ass a resounding smack with his very large palm. The sound bounced around the high-ceilinged room a time or two before settling in the sexually charged air between us.

“All right. Tell me what you want me to do,” I whimpered, pressing my forehead down into my folded arms on the edge of the couch. I just wanted him to fill me again. “Just tell me. Please…”

“There you go, girl. You know what I like. I haven’t been away that long. Come on now.”

His next two swats came in quick succession. My moan was just as loud as his smacks, but it couldn’t be helped. My skin stung like a fresh sunburn, and it was divine. I decided to tempt him—more accurately, taunt him—by suggestively swaying my backside from left to right.

“Well, someone wants a red ass today.” He said it almost under his breath, and even with an inflection of savoring humor, but it was a warning to me, and we both knew it. He communicated as much with the solid sweep of his hand, coming down on the left side of my ass with a startling crack.

I jerked a little but recovered in time to drawl, “Mmmm. Thank you, Tree. Feels so good when you tickle me like that.”

He chuffed. I couldn’t tell if it was bringing on another laugh or a heightened growl.

“Oh girl, why are you going to do that?”

Okay, it was the latter. And I was secretly delighted. But he probably knew that already, even as he spanked my other ass cheek just as hard but quicker than I could even process. Still, I managed a stunned little grunt before he flipped me around to my back again. My head arched back over the top of the cushion, turning me into his exposed little prey as he pushed my legs back so far my knees were beside my ears.

And then he was inside me.

Not just a little anymore.

He was swollen and huge and stretching me until I gasped, driving his cock deep into me like he was a fully sparked piston. He ignited a hundred different flames—all more brilliant and beautiful than anything I’d been able to create with matches and kindling. The pure, dazzling brilliance of it had me crying and then laughing and then bawling again, which likely made me into a bigger lunatic than he’d ever encountered in our travels. But my wild sanity swings only spurred him on more, causing him to pump harder and faster. Thank fucking God.

“Do I amuse you, Ms. Gibson?”

“N-N-N-No,” I stammered. “No. Oh, holy shit, Grant!”

I wasn’t going to be able to walk when we were through here. I was totally sure of it—and beyond fine by it. I could take one for the team. More than one, if we had to go into overtime.

Please, Jesus, let there be overtime.

“Open your eyes, baby. Look at the man who fucks you so good.”

“Grant—”

“What, baby?” he murmured, leaning in to kiss me hard. “What is it? You okay?”

“Yeah.” I shook my head and pressed a hand to his face. “Just make me come. Let’s go over together, okay?”

And as we did, I fought to hold on to the release as long as possible. How badly I wanted it to all keep going. To just let go, for once and for all. To just be free from the guilt I still held on to from the recent past. From losing my husband and falling for another man so quickly. For finally finding my soul mate when I thought I married him years ago. I wanted to let go and scream from the tallest building that I loved this man. This man whose body, mind, and soul fit so perfectly inside mine.

It was really that simple. I was in love with Grant Twombley.

And I had been for a long time.

We indulged in a long shower together, during which I insisted on inspecting every inch of Grant’s body for injuries. I even looked for damage he might not have been aware of, though according to him, I’d have to bow out of that hand. Still, my poker face got a chance to really flex when I told him I was okay with all of it, pretending like everything was fine until he went to do some catching up in his home office. I offered to make us dinner so we wouldn’t have to go out, and when I was sure he was tucked behind the closed door of his study, I instantly dialed Elijah.

“Banks.” There it was, right on time. His regular perfunctory bark—no more, no less.