Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Ariana
We ran along the sidewalk, laughing, pausing only to steal quick kisses. At one point, he pulled me against the wall of a shop and kissed me hard, right there in the open. People whistled, someone shouted for us to get a room, but we didn’t care. The world had narrowed to just the two of us.
“Where are you staying?” he asked between kisses.
“My hotel’s fifteen minutes away by car.”
“Fuck, that’s too long. Mine’s only a few blocks. Come on.”
He tugged me along, and I was giggling as we sprinted faster until we finally reached his hotel. We dashed through the lobby toward the elevators, but he suddenly stopped.
“Wait here,” he said before running toward a small shop inside the lobby.
I shifted impatiently, my pulse racing, until he came jogging back, grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward the elevator just as the doors slid open. We slipped inside, breathless.
There were others already in the elevator. We stood at the front, his hand clamped tightly around mine, his impatience clear in the way his foot tapped against the floor.
“One more floor,” he murmured against my ear.
I nodded, my heart hammering.
The moment the doors opened, we bolted again, hand in hand. In front of his room, he pinned me against the door and kissed me breathlessly.
“Gray, open the door,” I gasped, barely able to hold myself back.
“Right,” he muttered with a grin, fumbling his wallet from his back pocket until he found the key card.
The door clicked open, and we stumbled inside. In an instant, his arms scooped me up, lifting me effortlessly. I clung to him as he carried me to the bed and laid me down, my bag slipping from my shoulder and hitting the floor, instantly forgotten.
For a moment, he didn’t move. He just stood over me, staring, his chest rising and falling like he was trying to catch up to what was happening.
“I can’t believe this is real,” he whispered, almost to himself. “Tell me this is real, Ari.”
“This is real,” I whispered back, smiling through the rush in my chest.
He nodded, his voice rough. “Yeah… this is fucking real.”
And then he knelt at the edge of the bed.
Quietly, carefully, he slipped off my heels one by one.
Then he set my shoes aside, his fingers tracing lightly at my ankles, unwilling to let go of my skin.
His gaze traveled upward, hungry and unrestrained, fastening on me like I was everything he had been starving for.
“Gray…” My voice caught when his hands slid over my calves, my knees, slow and tender.
He dragged a trail of kisses up my leg, shoving my skirt higher with each one, rough with impatience. A gasp broke from me as my fingers tightened in his hair, needing him closer. When his eyes lifted, the hunger blazing there nearly undid me.
Then he loomed over me, his weight and warmth enveloping me, his presence leaving no room for air between us.
His mouth claimed mine, at first slow and reverent, a vow in every kiss.
But when I pulled him closer, the tenderness cracked into fire.
His lips crushed mine, consuming and fierce, everything we had kept buried, tearing loose at once.
My hands slid beneath his shirt, tugging it upward. He broke the kiss just long enough to rip it over his head, and I drank in the sight of him, the hard lines of his chest, the way his body trembled with need barely contained.
“Ari,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire and raw need. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’ve always been yours,” I breathed.
A low sound rumbled from him, half groan, half relief, as his mouth trailed lower, grazing my breast through the fabric.
“I want this bare,” he murmured, his fingers finding the buttons of my shirt.
One by one, he slipped them free, then pulled me up to sit, sliding the fabric off my shoulders with aching slowness, as though unwrapping something sacred.
“I want to see all of you.”
His gaze lingered on the black lace covering me before his hands slid around to unclasp it, baring my breasts to his hungry stare.
When his eyes lifted to mine again, a low, reverent growl rumbled from his chest. He pressed me back into the bed, palms firm at my waist as he dragged my skirt down, peeling it from my legs like he meant to claim every inch of me.
My panties followed in the same rough, hungry sweep, leaving me bare for him.
“Look at you… so beautiful. All mine.”
“Take off the rest of your clothes,” I demanded, my voice shaking with urgency. I couldn’t wait any longer.
His grin widened, sharp and hungry. He toed off his shoes, tugged his socks free, then shoved his pants down in one rough motion, boxers falling with them. He stood before me, completely bare, every inch of him revealed.
My breath caught at the sight of him—his body taut with restrained power, muscles carved and flexing with each movement.
The air between us thickened, heavy with heat and desperation.
My pulse raced; my body was already slick and aching for him.
I could feel the pull, the magnetic hunger drawing me closer, demanding I touch, taste, take.
His shaft was already stiff, thick, and pulsing, a bead of need glistening at the tip. It twitched when my eyes lingered on it, and he let out a rough, guttural sound at the way I stared.
“Fuck, the way you look at me,” he rasped, voice dark and jagged. His hand curled around his shaft, stroking once, twice, slow and teasing, his eyes never leaving mine. “You want me just as bad as I’m starving for you.”
I swallowed hard, my legs trembling with need. “Yes,” I admitted, my voice breaking with raw want. “Maybe worse.”
He stepped closer, the heat of his body searing my skin before he even touched me, his hunger wrapping around me like fire. My chest heaved as I took him in, and then his body covered mine until there was no space left.
His hand caught the back of my neck, pulling me into him, and his mouth crushed down on mine. It wasn’t a kiss—it was possession, raw and consuming. His lips devoured me, tongue sweeping past mine with greedy, claiming strokes that left me gasping.
I pressed myself against him, skin to skin, desperate for every inch. His erection was hot and hard against my thigh, pulsing with the same wild rhythm as my heart. I reached down, wrapping my hand around him, and he groaned into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, igniting something primal.
“Fuck, Ari,” he growled against my lips, his forehead pressed to mine as if he couldn’t bear the thought of distance, even an inch. “You’re going to kill me with how bad I need you.”
His hand slid under me, rough and urgent, seizing a handful of my ass as if to claim me, to anchor himself in the storm of our needs.
His weight pressed me into the sheets as he shifted lower, his mouth closing over my nipple, teeth biting until it stung.
I gasped, the sound breaking into a moan against his mouth as I clutched him tighter, trembling beneath the unyielding heat of him.
There was no thought left, only the aching truth of how much we wanted—no, needed—each other.
All restraint was gone, hunger ripping through him with brutal urgency.
His hands shook as he yanked the small box from his pants on the floor, fumbling until the foil split.
He rolled the condom over his length in one swift, desperate motion, cursing under his breath as though even those fleeting seconds might undo him, his chest rising and falling with ragged need.
Then he pressed it against me—hard, hot, demanding—and my body arched to meet him, clenching with desperate need, aching to take him in. His mouth ripped from mine just long enough for a hoarse, broken rasp.
“I can’t wait. I need you now.”
“Yes,” I breathed, already trembling, nails digging into his shoulders. “Yes!”
With a sharp, guttural sound, he pinned me into the mattress, his body caging mine as his legs forced my thighs apart.
Then came the hard plunge, burying deep in one desperate, claiming stroke.
The shock of it tore a cry from my lips, my head snapping back against the sheets as he filled me to the hilt, every inch a blazing stretch that left me gasping.
“Fuck,” he groaned, forehead pressed to mine, his voice shaking with the force of it. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”
He moved, hard and deep, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through me, the rhythm raw and consuming. My cries mingled with his curses, our bodies slick and frantic, the world outside us dissolving until there was nothing left but heat, sweat, and the savage need to be closer still.
Every time he drove into me, I clung tighter, my legs locked around him, my nails biting into his skin. His groans grew rougher, harsher, as if the pleasure was tearing him apart as much as it was me.
“Ari,” he gasped against my mouth, every kiss broken by the ragged pace of his breathing. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you,” I gasped, my body trembling as the pressure built, pushing me closer to the edge. My nails sank into his shoulders, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I’m yours.”
The words shattered something in him, and his thrusts turned feral, relentless, driving me higher until the coil inside me snapped.
Pleasure ripped through me, violent and blinding, a cry tearing from my lips as my body clenched hard around him.
His growl broke into a raw shout as he buried himself deep, release spilling hot inside me, his entire frame shuddering against mine.
For a long, breathless moment, neither of us moved, tangled together, clinging as though the world might fall apart if we let go. His chest heaved against mine, his mouth pressed to my cheek, whispering hoarse, broken words I could barely catch—love, always, forever.