Page 12 of Gray’s Surrender

“Prove it.”

She pulls my mouth to hers, bites my lower lip and reaches inside my open jeans. Her fingers close around my cock. My restraint thins fast. Meg strokes once, slow from base to head, and watches what it does to me. Her mouth curves.

“You’ve been walking around like this since last night?”

“Pretty much.”

“You could have saved yourself the speech, you know.”

“You needed the truth.”

“I needed this too.”

Her grip tightens. I kiss down her throat and pull the top of her dress aside. No bra. My mouth closes over one nipple, and Meg’s hand stutters around me. She makes a low sound as I suck, then drags my head closer. I switch to the other breast while my fingers keep moving inside her. Her hips follow every thrust of my hand.

“I want you inside me,” she says.

The blunt demand lands hard. Meg cups the back of my neck. Her eyes hold mine.

“I’m serious. I want you, Gray. Right here.” She reaches beneath her dress and slides her panties down.

They catch around one ankle. I remove them and put them on the bench beside her hand. Meg looks at the black lace, then at me. “Planning to catalogue those as a threat too?”

“Already did.”

I pull her to the edge. My cock slides through her wetness, and her humor disappears as she gasps. I guide the head against her and push in slowly. The first tight stretch drags a curse from both of us. Meg grips the bench behind her, eyes fixed on my face while I fill her inch by inch. When I’m buried deep, I stop. Her inner muscles tighten around me.

“You’re still holding back.”

“You’re taking a lot.”

“I asked for all of it.”

She locks both legs around my waist and drives her hips forward. That ends the pause. I pull out and thrust deep. The workbench strikes the wall. Meg cries out, then catches my face and kisses me before I can check the sound.

I take her hard.

One hand grips her hip. The other braces behind her, protecting her spine from the tools fixed to the wall. Every thrust slides her over the bench and brings her back against me. Her dress gathers at her waist. Her breasts move with the force of us. I lower my mouth to one while she claws through my hair.

“Harder.”

I hook her leg higher and change the angle. The next drive reaches deeper. Meg’s mouth opens on my name.

“That?”

“Again.”

I give it to her. Again. Then harder. The bench rattles beneath us, tools clicking against their hooks. Meg meets every thrust, taking what she demanded and pulling more from me. I slide my hand between us. My thumb finds her clit, wet and swollen. Her body jolts.

“Don’t slow down.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

I circle in time with the drive of my hips. The pressure builds through her in visible stages. Her head tips back. Her thighs tremble. Her fingers tighten hard enough on my shoulders to leave marks beneath my shirt. Meg catches the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to hers. I kiss her through the first hard clench of her body. Her cry breaks against my tongue.

Her body clenches around my cock, tight pulses pulling me deeper while she cries out without hiding. I keep moving, slower only long enough to carry her through it. Then she grabs my ass and draws me close.

“Now stop holding back.”