“Fuck me,” I hissed, barely able to come up with a coherent thought as she stroked me, her fingers curled in a fist. I fucked her hand, my erection hard and aching, the need to come nearly overwhelming. It had been months since I’d had a woman. Months of nothing but my hand and thoughts of her.
She fisted my cock, her wrist twisting, hand pumping, her fist sliding up to palm the head, the move sending a shiver down my spine.
I bent my head, my teeth connecting with the soft curve of her neck and shoulder. I sucked on the skin there, my teeth nipping at her, not caring that it would leave a mark. I wanted to mark her. Wanted everyone to know she was mine. There was something savage here between us—the realization that I didn’t have to pretend I was someone I wasn’t with her, that I could be me, in all of my screwed-up glory, and she’d still have me.
I reared back, the taste of her on my tongue. My hands came to the front of her bra, to the line of hooks that ran between her tits. I flicked one open, the black lace gaping to expose her naked flesh. Then another, my knuckles grazing her skin, tantalizingly close to the delicious curve of her breasts. She shuddered against me, and then the hand on my cock went completely still.
It was like I was unwrapping a present, hook by hook. Each opening gave me another inch of skin and tore another shiver from her body. I stopped midway down, staring at Blair’s face. She was gone, the mask she hid behind completely obliterated.
Her eyes were wide and unfocused, her lips swollen and red, her cheeks flushed. Her long brown hair tumbled down around her shoulders, the bottom curl hovering over the slope of her breast. A red mark marred her ivory skin where my mouth had claimed her.
Her chest rose and fell with harsh breaths, thrusting her tits up toward me. Her nipples were still covered by the black lace, but the need to see them, taste them, overwhelmed me.
I fumbled with the rest of the hooks, dragging my fingers down her skin until I reached the final one and pushed the lace away and she was bare before me.
For a moment all I could do was stand and stare at perfection.
Pink nipples. Creamy skin. Soft curves.
I cupped her breasts, my callused fingers grazing her silky skin.
I could die a happy man from this alone.
And then she moved, arching her body toward me, and said the magic words that broke whatever restraint I reached for.
“More.”
My mouth closed down on her nipple. Blair shuddered against me, her legs trembling, and I wrapped my free arm around her, holding in her in place while my lips and tongue destroyed her.
She tasted . . . I didn’t even know. Like nothing I’d ever tasted before. So fucking sweet. Addictive.
I tongued her nipple, my teeth grazing her sensitive flesh. Her hands came down and tangled in my hair, yanking on the ends, pulling me closer while I toyed with her other nipple, twisting and tugging, flicking it between my fingers until it begged for my mouth. I released her nipple with a wet pop, turning my attention to the other one, my dick hardening even more at the gasps and whimpers rolling off of Blair’s tongue.
I trailed a hand down her stomach, stopping when I reached the waistband of her lacy black thong. Her earlier words came back to me, Hell, I’d like for someone to rip my thong off, and the next thing I knew her ruined underwear was lying on the hardwood floor next to us.
I trailed my finger down, my touch featherlight over her clit. And then I stroked her, inches away from where I wanted to be.
She was soaked.
I groaned, my cock hard to the point of pain. I wanted to free myself, to sink into her wetness and drown. But from the moment this had started, from the moment she’d begun talking, I’d been determined to give her the best night of her life. She’d never had an orgasm from straight-up sex before? I wanted to make her come over and over again.
I circled her entrance, teasing her swollen flesh as she shuddered against my hand, and then I filled her, two fingers sliding in to the hilt.
Tight. Silk. Warm. Wet. Fucking perfect.
I dragged my fingers in and out, each time leaving her sensitive flesh quivering around me. Sometimes I gave it to her hard and deep, her pussy clenching around my fingers. Other times, I pulled out, giving her nothing more than the tips of my fingers hovering at her entrance until she was taking what she wanted, fucking herself over my fingers.
I released her nipple, adding a third finger, my thumb moving up to rub her distended clit. The second I did, she clenched around my fingers, and I felt the beginning of her orgasm ripping through her.
“Come for me, baby.” I whispered, my voice tight with lust and need.
She pulled at my hair as her back arched. My fingers kept pumping, harder, faster. Just as she was right on the edge, ready to fall into oblivion, I pulled out of her. She gasped and then I was on my knees, my mouth on her, my tongue on her sex, lapping at her clit, and then she was shattering against me, sobs escaping her lips. I held her up while I ate her, while she shuddered against my mouth, and then when her legs simply gave out, I guided her to the floor and looked my fill.
Her breasts were full, her nipples so fucking tight, red and wet from my mouth, her delicate, pale skin marked from the stubble on my face, my lips, my hands, my teeth. Her hair fell around her shoulders, a silken mess that left no doubt that she’d just been fucked thoroughly. Her eyes said she’d loved it.
My cock needed more.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I mumbled. “Bedroom.”
She didn’t answer me, but her hands reached out and came to rest on my hips, just above the drawstring tie. She fumbled with the fabric and then they were untied, and she was pushing them down my legs and then I was naked.
“I don’t have a condom down here,” I ground out, struggling to get my body under control. I felt like I was fifteen again, desperate to fuck. She did that. Blair stripped everything away and gave me the world in return.
“I’m on the pill,” she whispered. “After Thom . . . the cheating . . . I got tested. I’m good.”
“Me, too,” I croaked.
I wanted her like this, nothing between us. Just her.
“Gray?”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck me. Now.”
And just like that I gave up trying to be the man I thought she deserved and became the man she wanted.
I spread her legs, taking another moment to stare down at perfection. I was a guy, and I wasn’t going to pretend that there wasn’t always something about sex that was intense, but this was different. This was every single part of me screaming “mine” when I looked at her.
It felt right in a way nothing had before, like a key sliding into place.
I thrust inside her, a groan escaping my mouth as her wet heat surrounded me, her pussy clenching down on my cock. So fucking tight. I pushed forward until I filled her. Our gazes met and I took her mouth, my lips devouring hers. And then my hips began moving, sliding in and out, pumping harder, faster, and something came alive in Blair.
Her nails raked down my back, mixing pain with pleasure until my balls ached, begging for release.
The orgasm built within me, the feel of her too good to resist, and then I was exploding inside her, her sex milking my cock. Her back arched, her head fell back, and I watched the beauty of my girl riding her second orgasm of the night.
Chapter Twenty
Did you check out our list of D.C.’s most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes? Rumor has it one just might be off the market . . .
—Capital Confessions blog
Gray
I woke to an empty bed and the smell of bacon cooking. It took me a minute to get my bearings, and then last night in all of its black-corseted, Blair Reynolds glory came rushing back to me.