CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
LINA
G rant’s palm slides up the back of my neck, tangling my hair while I struggle to keep my mouth from dropping to the floor.
“Oh,” is all I manage to let out.
“You okay with that?” The glint in his eyes is a tell-tale sign of his arousal, and it makes me that much more aware of how he wants this nearly as much as I do.
Still, I try to play it cool. “Sure. I guess.”
Grant rolls his eyes, knowing exactly how much I’m downplaying the need flooding my core. “Get your ass upstairs, Eva.”
I bite back a grin, turning on my heels to climb the stairs. I take each step deliberately slow, making sure Grant’s watching as I do. I can feel him following behind me, and for the most part, he keeps his distance.
Until I reach the third to last step, where his hand comes down on my ass, landing with just enough force to make me gasp, whipping around to glare at him.
He’s barely fazed, wearing that same cocky smirk he always showcases, completely immune to the fact that anyone downstairs could have seen him do that.
“Couldn’t help myself,” he murmurs, stepping up to bridge the gap between us.
My hand falls to the back of my skirt. “That hurt, you dick.” It didn’t. I just like seeing the flash of guilt rush to his face for a split second.
Grant leans in, his lips brushing my temple in a way that looks as though it’s apologetic, but I know better when I feel him smile against my hair. “I’m sure you’ll live.”
The corners of my mouth betray me, threatening to lift into a smile. “You won’t.”
Amusement paints his face. “Is that a threat?”
I don’t say anything in return. I turn and dart up the remaining stairs, making him chase me all the way to the door of his bedroom.
Grant backs me against the bedroom door, his hands finding my waist in a familiar pattern. I let him, my heart thudding against my chest so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.
His lips press to mine in a heated exchange, and I’m so lost in the way his mouth moves with mine that I don’t notice when he twists the knob and the door collapses open behind me. The only thing that keeps me from falling on my ass is the singular hand he has on my waist.
Next thing I know, Grant lifts me with one arm, carrying me into the bedroom and letting the door swing shut behind us.
“Tell me you want this,” he says, laying me gently on the mattress.
“I do.” I try to dull the anticipation bubbling in my throat. “I want this.”
It’s safe to say that in the time we’ve been together, we’ve run all the bases. Multiple times.
Hell, the first time I sucked his dick was in the parking lot of Sal’s Diner in the backseat of his car.
We know each other’s bodies well. It’s no surprise.
One look at him has me ready to get my hands all over him, like any other girl would want to.
Thankfully, I’m the only girl now. They can’t have what’s mine.
“Perfect,” he hums, kneeling on the bed at my feet, lifting me by the hips, and easily pulling my skirt down my legs. “ Jesus.” He groans when he sees what I have on underneath.
In Kara’s terms, it’s probably considered anniversary lingerie, but I don’t care. I ordered it online last week and made the split-second decision to put it on after seeing the way Grant practically melted when I showed him my outfit earlier.
I lift one side of the black tank top I have on, exposing half of my matching bra. His eyes narrow at the sight, desire coating his pupils.
“Didn’t think hot pink was something you’d pick out, pretty girl.”
Now’s probably not a good time to tell him that Savannah picked it out.
It wasn’t on purpose, but she just happened to come into my room and peer over at my laptop right as I was looking through my options.
She didn’t even mention Grant when she told me which I’d look best in. She’s a good friend like that.
“Decided to go for something out of my comfort zone,” is what I tell him, because it’s true.
“Well, I can’t wait to get you out of these .” He smiles mischievously, trailing his fingers lightly over my waist, down my lips, and under the straps of the thong.
It instantly has my breath stalling while he pulls them down my legs, not yet bothering with my bra. My entire body is screaming at me to speed this up, which is why I reach for the straps.
Grant’s hand flies over mine, stopping me. “Not yet.”
I try ignoring him, again trying to reach around my back with the other hand, making it apparent that the pace I want to set is much faster than the one he is currently going at.
He catches that hand too, pushing them above my head and holding them there while his voice drops low with both heat and authority. “You’re not in charge right now.”
My body succumbs to him before my brain, arching further into him while he leans down closer, his lips brushing against my jaw.
“You knew what you were doing wearing this.” His breath is hot against my skin, scattering goosebumps up my arms.
Of course Grant notices. Immediately, he runs his rough hands up and down my arms, smirking as he feels the reaction ripple across them. “Look at you, already shaking.”
“It’s cold in here,” I say, trying to give some form of a remark, despite knowing he can see right through it.
He chuckles lightly, the sound deep in his chest as his mouth hovers an inch above mine. “Sure it is.” His grip on my wrists tightens, making my pulse jump. And with the way his grin grows, I’d almost think he can feel it.
“Take—” My words are cut off with a heady gasp when one of his hands skates down my stomach, toward my navel. “Take your clothes off.”
It’s the only reason he lets up on my wrists for a short moment. Ripping his shirt up over his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor at the foot of the bed.
When he has me pinned back to the bed, he holds my arms to my sides so that he can trail kisses down my stomach, all the way to the apex of my thighs.
“Grant,” I gasp when his lips meet the fabric of my panties. “Just fuck me.”
The anticipation is roaring in my chest, and while I wouldn’t normally consider myself impatient, I am right now.
He instantly shakes his head. “Did you already forget what I said I was planning on doing to you?” he asks coyly. “Is that eidetic memory of yours already slipping?”
I don’t say anything when his eyes flit to mine. “Your ego is ruining this right now.”
“Doubt that.” Grant grins cockily. “Lift your hips for me, and I’ll prove it.”
And despite every neuron in my body screaming at me not to give in so easily, I do it anyway, lust pooling around my brain, nearly drowning me.
“There you go.” I pretend not to be affected by his slight praise, but my thighs tighten involuntarily under his fingers while he slips the hot pink lace down my thighs. “That’s what I thought.”
“I hate you,” I manage, even though it lacks its usual bite.
“No, you don’t,” he says, knowing it’s true as he presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh, slow and deliberate. “You just pretend to hate how easy it is for me to get you like this.”
And he’s not wrong. I pretend to hate how he can read my body better than I can read any textbook. That with one word, or one touch of his hand, I go from composed and calculated to arching beneath him like I’m some touch-starved animal.
“You haven’t done anything yet,” I snap, using all the composure I can muster.
Grant raises a brow, amused. “You’re just mad I’m not letting you speed through this like a checklist.” His tattooed hands keep moving across my skin in a tantalizing pattern from my thighs all the way up my stomach. “We’re not skipping over anything tonight.”
I would argue, but then his tongue drags over my center, and every coherent thought sinks right into the mattress with the rest of me.
He’s done this so many times by now that it seems to get better every time—proving that he pays attention to everything I enjoy, doubling down on the things that make me fall apart.
The sharp intake of breath only fuels him because he hums against me, and the low vibration shoots straight up my spine.
My hips writhe with his motions, the sensation so overwhelming that my body is trying to get away from it, despite how much I love it.
Grant holds me by the hips into the mattress, his hands splaying so large that his fingers dig into my waist, possessive and unrelenting.
He’s skillfully kissing the spot between my legs while his eyes stay glued to mine. The sensation has my entire body locked in a breathless suspension, not knowing what to do.
“Grant,” I moan, my hands flying from my sides to his hair when his tongue touches a sensitive spot.
My brain is melting away by the minute. At first, all I could think about was something I read once about arousal: the brain is the biggest sex organ. Arousal starts there before it hits your body. Now, though, all I can do is question how accurate that is.
With each of Grant’s touches, every movement of his mouth against my clit, I’ve lost the ability to question the logistics of science—like he’s bypassed every inch of my brain and gone straight to the pleasure center of my body.
“ Oh, ” I moan, my head tilting back further onto the pillow when Grant pulls me closer to his mouth. “Grant.” My fingers lace deeper in his hair, trying to pull him away.
He glances up at me, knowing what I want. It’s exactly why he says, “I’m not fucking you until you come on my tongue.”
“God,” I choke, my voice breaking when he continues licking me. “Grant. Fuck. ”
My moans turn into cries when he moves his fingers deeper inside me, simultaneously flicking my clit with his tongue.
“You’re almost there, pretty girl. Don’t fight it.”
And I don’t. I can’t. Pure ecstasy rushes through me, and my hips rock helplessly against his lips, chasing a high I have no control over.
It hits hard. Like an ambush from inside my own body, hitting me from every side. I moan, head thrown back, legs locking around Grant’s shoulders as my orgasm rips through me in such intense waves, I swear the room tilts.
Grant doesn’t stop until he’s groaning against me, driving me into a world of sensitivity, one I can’t claw myself out of fast enough.
“Too much,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his hair.
He finally relents, pulling back slowly with a smug swipe of his mouth across the back of his hand. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you come that hard.”
I’m still catching my breath, dazed and flushed and vibrating from the aftershocks. “Quite the birthday present,” I eventually quip.
“Damn right.” His thumb brushes along my bottom lip, coaxing it open before kissing me again, slower this time. I taste myself on his tongue.
Pulling back, he rests his forehead against mine while his hand trails up my neck and around my jaw, almost like he can’t stop touching me.
“You good?” he murmurs, the cocky edge of his voice dulling to something softer.
“More than.” I let out a content sigh right as Grant falls onto the mattress next to me, pulling me in closer to his chest. “But,” I lay a hand on his chest, pushing slightly away from him. “If you don’t take your clothes off right now, we’re going to have problems.”
He laughs lightly but sits up without protest. “You’re bossy,” he says, but it sounds more like a compliment considering the way his abs flex and his eyes narrow in on me.
“You’ve known from the beginning that I’m a bitch.” I smirk, pushing up on my elbows while he pulls his pants off. “And we both know it turns you on.”
“It is what I signed up for, I suppose.” My entire body heats when he grabs the underside of my jaw, pulling my lips to his.
Grant has never once tried to make me dim the parts of myself that take up space. I’d even go so far as to say he’s only ever wanted me to take up more.
The kiss deepens, all hot and with intent, until my head’s spinning and I’m gripping his arms like a vice.
He groans low in his throat, pressing me back into the pillows with the weight of his body bearing down on me.
“I mean it,” I manage between kisses, tugging at the waistband of his boxers. “Clothes. Off.”
Grant chuckles, but there’s no fight in him. Just him, unbothered and so turned on, all while being in control—despite me giving him the orders.
His hands travel the length of me before covering mine, encouraging me to pull his boxers completely off. “You know I’d give you anything.”
And as the last barrier slips to the floor, and he settles over me with that look in his eyes—that promise of what’s coming next—I believe him.
I believe every damn word.