Page 132 of On the Breakaway

The kiss that follows is deeper than the ones in the park, filled with the steady certainty of two people finally admitting that this isn’t something we’re trying to get out of our systems so we can move on, but something that we might not want to move on from.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. He searches my face, giving me every opportunity to stop. I should stop. I still don’t want the things he wants. This could blow up in our faces, but with his eyes on me, everything after tonight feels so irrelevant.

My fingers lace with his as I lead him down the hallway, watching as he glances around the space, taking it in. We don’t bother closing the door, almost as if we both realize this might be the first time we’ve actually had complete and total privacy together. There’s no chance of someone barging in or knocking on the door. It’s just us. Just this. For as long as we want.

I pull him against me, kissing him hungrier than before. His hands slide from my hips to my ass as he grinds into me, and I can feel just how hard he is through his jeans.

My feet walk us backwards until the back of my knees hit the bed, buckling underneath me as I sit down. It breaks our kiss, and he hovers over me, eyes searching my face for the answer I know is plainly written across it.

Yes. I want this. I want you. At least for tonight.

To prove it, I slide my jacket off, then slowly pull my shirt over my head. His eyes trail down to the hot pink bra covering my breasts, and satisfaction curls low in my stomach. The hungry look he’s giving me now is exactly why I chose it.

He reaches up, and I expect him to yank it off, but instead, he brushes his thumb across it and up my neck in a gentle caress. His eyes lock on mine, and I’m powerless to look away as he grabs the hem of his shirt, sliding it over his head.

I can’t resist sliding my hand up his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoo before reaching back to unclasp my bra and let it slide down my arms. Across from me, he shoves his jeans down his hips, and I follow suit, lifting slightly to tug my own jeans and underwear down my legs while he kicks off his boxers.

Every move is slow and unhurried. Our eyes are locked the entire time, and it feels more intimate than any other time I’ve been with him. He isn’t even touching me yet.

Sliding farther back onto the bed, I let my head sink into the pillows and finally put a little space between us. It turns out that’s a mistake. Because with a few feet separating us, I can fully appreciate the sight in front of me. Grayson pauses at the foot of the bed, his eyes fixed on mine, and my pulse stutters.

My mouth goes dry when he climbs onto the mattress, making his way up to me. Desire hums beneath my skin, but he pauses, watching me with reverence I’m not sure how I earned.

When our lips finally meet again, it’s full of heat, our mouths moving together in a consuming rhythm until I’m not sure where one kiss ends and the next begins. I’m half convinced I don’t even need air anymore, just his mouth on mine.

It feels too right and completely terrifying. Before I can disappear down that spiral, though, his hand is between my legs, brushing a soft circle across my clit. I arch up to meet him immediately, and he does it again.

“Oh my god.” I moan in a desperate plea.

“Save that for when I’m inside you.”

One of my hands grasps the sheet while he continues working me over with his fingers, lips trailing wet kisses along my neck. My other hand reaches between us, taking hold of his cock and stroking him slowly. He jerks against me, his movements becoming shaky.

I smirk, satisfied with my ability to have him balancing on the edge of his perfect control. He quirks an eyebrow when he notices, dropping a quick kiss on my lips before his fingers slide deep inside me in one swift motion, curling against the spot that drives me wild.

Even now, we’re egging each other on, seeing who will break first. But this isn’t the same game we’ve been playing for months anymore. It’s not fueled by frustration or attraction we’d rather ignore. This time, it’s not really about the sex at all.

I just want him. Closer. Everywhere.

“You’re so wet, Avery. So fucking willing and ready for me.”

“You feel pretty ready for me, too.” I stroke him again, sliding my hand up his shaft until the smirk falls off his face, his eyes darkening as his breathing turns uneven.

“You win,” he says, whimpering as I continue the motion.

“I always win.” My thumb circles the tip of him before I slide back down to the base.

“Are you going to let me inside you tonight, baby?”

Heat rushes through me at the question. Again, he’s proving that the control over this is mine. Whatever happens next is up to me.

His forehead drops briefly against my shoulder, and for the first time all night, the steady certainty I’ve come to associate with Grayson cracks just enough for me to see what’s underneath.

“I’ll do anything,” he says quietly, the words brushing against my skin. “I’ll be such a good boy for you.”

Oh. My. God.

The last of my nerves fade away, leaving me breathless beneath the weight of just how badly I want him.