Chapter 14 Gregory #2
My thumb sweeps her fucking cheekbone roughly, and she arches hungrily into the touch. When my palm cups her jaw and I tilt her face up, a shudder races through her.
“Gregory.” My name is a plea on her lips.
I devour it with my mouth.
This isn’t a kiss. It’s fucking annihilation. Four days of building tension detonate as my tongue plunders past her lips, tasting coffee, steak, and the sweet salt that is her.
She whimpers, fingers twisting in my sweater, and I fucking swallow the sound greedily.
My hand fists in her hair, angling her head for deeper conquest with my tongue while the other drags her hips flush against mine. The hard ridge of my fucking cock grinds against her belly, drawing a ragged moan from her that vibrates through my very being.
When I break away, it feels like tearing flesh.
“Bed,” I rasp against her swollen mouth.
Her laugh is breathless, desperate. “We don’t have a bed--”
My gaze sweeps the firelit room. I move like a man possessed, yanking blankets from the sectional. Wool, cashmere, faux fur, I don’t give a fuck, whatever is available, I grab it. And then I build a nest by the hearth, layering it thick enough to cushion the ravaging that is to come.
When I turn back, she stands bathed in firelight, covered in my hoodie, her eyes wide and dark with need. Every fucking cell in my body ignites when I see those fucking eyes.
I stalk toward her, my steps feral. I’ve become an animal.
“Come. Here.” Not a request.
She obeys, trembling as I reach for the zipper of the hoodie.
The slide of metal echoes in the silence.
I strip it from her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet.
The thermal shirt follows. A slow reveal of smooth, sun-kissed skin that glows like amber in the firelight.
When my knuckles brush the swell of her breasts above her bra, she shivers. Just fucking shivers.
Her hands suddenly fly to the rolled waistband of her sweatpants, and panic flashes in her eyes. “Gregory, wait--”
I merely grunt in reply, and reach for that fucking waistband myself.
“I smell!” she protests. “Sure, I took a quick bath yesterday, but--”
I silence her by sliding her back against the sectional, until she’s sitting. Then I pin her wrists above her head against the leather couch, and cage her body with mine.
Her gasp is so fucking sharp, so fucking delicious, I could cum right there.
I lower my head to the soft hollow of her arm and inhale. It’s a deep, fucking primal inhale. I smell the musky sweetness of her skin and exertion.
Perfection.
“You think I give a fuck?” My tongue lashes a hot stripe up that soft hollow. She cries out, body bowing off the couch. “You taste like sweet candy.”
My teeth bite then, into that hollow, claiming her.
She writhes, a choked sob escaping as I lick into the intimate crease, savoring the tang of her exertion. “Every. Unwashed. Inch.” I punctuate each word with a suckling kiss that blooms purple on her skin. “Of you... is... fucking beautiful.”
Her struggles cease. Surrender floods her eyes, replaced by dazed arousal. Her hips roll upward, seeking friction.
I reward her submission by hooking my fingers around the waistband of her thermal pants. They promptly vanish.
Now she’s bare except for faded cotton panties and a bra strained tight over peaked nipples. I lift her effortlessly, carrying her to the blanket nest on the floor. Her back hits the layers, her hair fanning like dark silk around her.
“Hands above your head,” I order. “Don’t move them.”
She obeys, her breath hitching.
Then I descend.
My mouth maps her world. The frantic pulse behind her ear, the hollow of her throat, the swell of breasts spilling from the bra. I bite a nipple through the fabric, it’s hard already, and her scream echoes off the vaulted ceiling.
When I peel the bra away, taking the other peak between my lips, she arches off the blankets entirely, her fucking back bowed like a drawn bow.
“Gregory-- please-- fuck-- me--”
“Shhh... just feel.” My tongue traces the dip of her navel. My fingers hook into her panties, dragging them down her thighs and onto the blankets. The scent of her arousal, so musky and sweet, so intoxicating... it hits me harder than any punch could, and for a moment I stagger.
Then I bury my face between her legs, inhaling deep before my tongue licks a slow, torturous path across her slick folds. “You’re so wet for me.”
She sobs. “Oh god-- there--”
I feast. Licking, sucking, devouring her like a man starved. Her thighs clamp around my head, her heels digging into my back. Every whimper, every shuddering gasp, every convulsive clench of her inner muscles feeds the beast inside me.
I slide two fingers inside her molten heat, curling upward. She screams my name, drenching my hand. “GREGORY!”
When I finally rise above her, she’s a wreck. Her lips swollen, her eyes glazed, her skin flushed from throat to thighs, her pussy drenched and clenching.
I strip slowly. First, the sweater, peeling it over my head with deliberate tension, letting her watch the ripple of my back muscles.
Next, the jeans. I pop the button, drag the zipper down with a metallic hiss, and shove them off my hips, stepping free to reveal my toned thighs.
The boxers follow, black cotton slipping over the hard line of my hips, revealing the carved V leading down, and down. ..
Fully fucking aware of how her breath hitches, I turn to face her fully in the firelight, letting her see everything.
My palm slides down the rigid plane of my abdomen.
Not just gym-perfected abs, but lethal definition honed by years of controlling an empire.
I trace the deep grooves, fingers dipping lower, skimming the trail of dark hair that arrows down to where my cock stands thick and rigid, flushed an angry red, veins like cables pulsing with every heartbeat.
“Fucking look at what you do to me,” I grit out, wrapping a fist around my shaft, giving it one slow, possessive stroke. Pre-cum beads at the slit, catching the firelight. “This isn’t just hard, Sorrel. This is fucking pain. See how much I want to ruin you?”
Her gaze is transfixed by my pulsing cock, her eyes wide with awe. And apprehension.
More pre-cum pearls at the tip, glistening proof of the control I’m shredding for her.
“You’re... big,” she gasps.
“Made to fill you,” I growl.
I grab a condom packet from my jeans and tear it with my teeth.
The foil glints in the firelight as I slowly roll the latex down my aching length with deliberate, trembling fingers, making her watch every inch of the descent.
My jaw locks, tendons straining in my neck as I fight the brutal urge to slam that condom on so I can shove her thighs apart and bury myself raw inside her.
Slowly, unrolling it slowly... down my hard, aching cock. The inner tip of the condom is already brimming with even more pre-cum.
Then finally it’s done. With the latex secured tightly at the base, I kneel between her thighs. I grip my shaft, and tease her clit with the swollen head. She convulses at the contact.
“Look at me,” I command.
Her eyes snap to mine. They’re drowning in fucking need.
I position myself at her entrance. “Take me. Deep.”
I drive slowly, relentlessly, until I’m sheathed halfway. “So fucking tight.”
Her gasp almost makes me cum.
I sink deeper, watching her eyes dilate, and her teeth sink into her lower lip. “That’s it. Such a good girl. Taking every fucking inch.”
And then I’m buried to the hilt. Her heat clamps around me, tight as a vise.
I remain motionless. Letting her adjust, letting her feel the stretch, the fullness.
Sweat beads my brow as I struggle for control, which hangs by the barest of threads.
Then I move.
Violently.
Withdrawing almost to the tip. Driving back in with a snap of hips.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Relentless.
Possessive.
A pounding rhythm builds.
The room echoes with the obscene slap of flesh on flesh, her sobbing whimpers and breathless pleas, and my savage growls.
My thumb circles her clit in tight, punishing circles. Her cries escalate, becoming sharp and broken.
I shift, sliding a hand beneath her ass, lifting her hips for deeper penetration.
The new angle punches a scream from her throat.
“Gregory-- I can’t-- I’m gonna--”
“Cum.” The command cracks like a whip. “Now.”
Her body detonates. She shatters beneath me, her back arching off the blankets, her inner muscles savagely attempting to milk my cock in violent spasms. Her scream echoes raw in the rafters.
The sight of her falling apart unravels me and my control evaporates.
I drive into her, hard and fast and brutal, chasing my own release. Her name tears from my lips... a guttural fucking roar.
“SORREL!”
Heat explodes up my spine, flooding the condom in thick, pulsating waves.
Then finally I collapse over her, shuddering, and bury my face in her sweat-damp neck.
Silence fills the room, interrupted only by the crackling fire and our ragged breaths.
I lay there on top of her for a long moment, then I withdraw, disposing of the condom.
I lay down next to her once more, and gather her trembling body against my chest, wrapping us both in blankets.
Her heartbeat thunders against my ribs, syncing with mine.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her hair. “Always.”
She nuzzles into my throat. “That was... intense.”
A satisfied smirk curves my lips. “Just the beginning.”
My arms tighten.
Outside, the storm rages.
Inside, the world has narrowed to her breath on my skin, her scent in my lungs, her taste on my tongue, and her body pressed to mine.
Mine.