Chapter 19 #2
“It is better to hear them,” she confessed, her heart nearly tripling in size at the thought of this incredible man loving her.
In that instant, her entire life flashed before her eyes…
and she saw them sitting side by side at his family’s dinner table every Sunday, Grayson placing those sweet kisses on the side of her head, his hand gently stroking their own baby, growing inside her.
She’d never let herself dream of things like that, but now it was all she could see.
His hands tightened on her hips. “Still with me?”
She nodded. “Always,” she whispered.
Grayson released her hips, his hands rising to cup her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears flowing. He seemed to understand what was driving them, so he didn’t ask if she was okay or if she wanted to stop.
Instead, he asked, “Are you ready?”
“Please,” she breathed. She wanted him, wanted this, but she needed his help. He’d promised they would do this together, and because she trusted him, she knew he would remain true to his word.
Grayson studied her face for just a second, then lowered his hands once more. He gripped her hips as he pushed her the rest of the way down, in one rough, quick motion, leaving him seated to the hilt.
She hissed in pain, but also in pleasure, her core throbbing. Instinct had her attempting to rise instantly, but Grayson anticipated that, firming his grip, keeping her pressed tightly to his lap while he was buried deep.
“Give your body a second to adjust.”
She gave him a small grin. “You like that word.”
He chuckled, then kissed her so passionately, every thought fled until she was nothing more than a feral, greedy, hungry beast.
She wasn’t aware of exactly when she’d started to move. Grayson’s hands loosened, letting her guide the speed and depth. She kept the thrusts shallow at first but soon that wasn’t enough, and before she knew it, she was bouncing on his lap, stars flashing behind her eyes.
“That’s my girl,” Grayson praised, stroking her clit with his thumb. “Take what you need, little bird. That’s your cock from now on. Only yours. Just like that…” He circled his thumb faster until she threw her head back, the pleasure so intense it almost hurt. “Just like this pussy is all mine.”
“Yours,” she said, groaning as a wave of bliss hit her so hard, she feared she might pass out.
“Yes,” Grayson said. “That’s it. Come for me, Wren.”
She didn’t have enough breath to tell him she was already there. Her back arched as her orgasm rumbled through her like a thousand revving motorcycles. She trembled so hard, she was shocked she hadn’t broken every bone in her body.
Wave after wave crashed over her, and once again, she was drowning in a sea of pleasure, lost and adrift and in no hurry to be rescued.
When her legs turned to pure jelly, Grayson took over, driving his hips upward, pushing his cock inside again and again, dragging her into another orgasm. And then—God help her—another.
By the time she landed, her voice was hoarse from shouting, and her body was completely wrung out, every ounce of strength zapped.
Her forehead rested in the crook of his neck as she fought to still her racing heart, to calm her breathing. Once she recovered—ha ha—she lifted her head, suddenly aware that he hadn’t come.
Had she done something wrong?
“Grayson?” she whispered, wondering if this was the other shoe dropping.
“Put that thought away,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
Obviously, she hadn’t hidden her panic. “Little bird, it took everything I had not to come with you just now, but dammit, I’m a selfish bastard at heart.
I haven’t had enough of you. But this is your first time, so once I come, I’m not getting back inside you until you’ve had time to recover. ”
She wanted to argue that he could move in and take up residence in her body, if that was what he wanted. In fact, she opened her mouth to say just that, but he spoke before she could.
“I know you’re uncomfortable with me being on top of you. But how would you feel about doggie style?”
Wren had seriously thought herself down for the count after those incredible orgasms, but that question stirred up one hell of a second wind. She lifted off his lap, adjusting on the couch until she was on her hands and knees. Unable to resist, she wiggled her ass playfully.
Grayson laughed as he shifted as well, kneeling behind her.
He didn’t bend forward, didn’t put any weight on her, and she knew that was intentional. He’d listened to her trauma, her fears, and he was doing everything he could to make sure this was special for her.
Wren wasn’t sure what she’d done in her life to deserve someone as wonderful as him, but damn if she was going to waste much time pondering it.
“Still with me?” he murmured, before slapping her ass with more force than she would have expected. She gasped, then purred a soft “mm-hmm,” because that was the sweetest heat she’d ever experienced.
She dropped from her hands to her elbows as he slid back inside in one slow, deep glide. Dear God, she had no idea how freaking good that would feel. Grayson was big—everywhere—so she definitely felt the stretch, but she didn’t mind it a bit.
His hands gripped her hips once more, using that hold to pull her back and forth.
She was quickly becoming obsessed with his little grunts and moans.
The idea that she was able to excite this strong, confident, dominant man made her feel powerful and sexy, two words she’d never—not once—used to describe herself.
When Grayson reached around her waist with one hand, his fingers finding her clit, she squeaked as those flashes of lightning flared back to life.
She was going to come again.
“That’s it, little bird,” he praised. “Come again for me. Let me feel that tight pussy tremble around my dick.”
She pressed her forehead to the couch cushion, his dirty talk the equivalent of throwing gasoline on a raging fire. Her body began to shake as her fourth orgasm struck hard.
“Grayson!” she yelled.
This time, he was there as well, calling her name as he came inside her.
When Wren opened her eyes, awareness crept back in slowly. She was still on the couch, but she was lying flat on her stomach. It took a few moments and a lot of blinking to clear her vision enough to see her surroundings again.
Grayson, still naked, sat on the floor in front of the couch, right by her head. He was stroking her hair gently.
“Welcome back,” he said in a gravelly voice.
She frowned. “Did I pass out?”
He grinned—or maybe smirked was a better term—when she asked her question.
“Oh yeah.”
Her laugh was breathy. She was too tired to produce more sound than that. “You’re way too pleased.”
“Damn right, I am. That’s a first for me.”
“It was all a first for me,” she said, exhaustion kicking in even after her apparent power nap.
“Come on, little bird. We’re staying here tonight.” He helped her rise from the couch, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist as she wobbled on unsteady legs. He’d fucked her boneless. Neither of them bothered to get dressed. Hell, they didn’t even pick up their clothing.
And again, given his wide grin, it was obvious that he was far too pleased with himself.
They walked to the bathroom first, where he produced two new toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste.
“Dropped off provisions this afternoon, just in case,” he explained, when she gave him a curious look.
She giggled.
“What can I say?” he said, shrugging. “I’m an optimist.”
She rolled her eyes, watching him brush his teeth through his reflection in the mirror, loving the domesticity of the simple act.
They walked back to the bedroom, Grayson leaving the bathroom light on and leaving the door open halfway, ensuring they weren’t swamped in darkness.
“Thank you,” she murmured, when he reached the bed and pulled back the handmade quilt.
“I’ll hit the store tomorrow and stock up on nightlights. For nights when we stay here,” he added.
“We’re going to start staying here?”
“I’d like to,” he admitted.
When they climbed into the bed—hers was only a full, so this felt huge—she found herself hoping this cabin wasn’t rented very often. Because, despite only being here a few hours, it felt even more comfortable than her apartment.
Grayson lay on his back, letting her choose the sleeping position. Curling next to him, she wrapped her arm around his waist, resting her head on his chest, which she decided was the world’s greatest pillow.
“Good night, Gray,” she said softly.
“Sweet dreams, little bird.”
Those four words wove their way around her fading consciousness. And for the first time in a long time, she fell asleep certain that was exactly what her dreams would be.
Sweet.