Grant
FIFTY-THREE
Amelia Green is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
When she smiles at me, I have to actively put my tongue back in my mouth. When she tugs her shirt over her head, I forget my name and pinch the inside of my wrist to make sure I’m not stuck in a dream.
Her bra and underwear aren’t anything fancy. Black, cotton. No lace or frills or decorative adornments, but it doesn’t matter. She could wear a sack and I’d still struggle to breathe.
“Are you okay?” she asks, and I want to laugh.
There’s not a big enough word to describe how I’m feeling.
I’ve transcended time and space. I’m nearly catatonic when she reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra. I need a goddamn defibrillator when she slides the straps down her arms and tosses it to the side.
“Yeah.” I wet my lips and bob my head. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” Amelia’s smile falls. “Is that all?”
“That was a lie. I’m in heaven. And hell too, if we’re being honest.” My dick is so hard, it hurts. “You’re practically naked in front of me, and I haven’t looked at you yet.”
“You should look.” She dips her chin, an invitation there. “Please.”
Her plea forces me to blow out the last of my remaining restraint. My gaze moves from her face down to her neck. A silver necklace rests against her throat, and I want to smile at how pretty it is.
I go lower, and I think my brain is short-circuiting when I see her chest. I think this is how I die, because fucking Christ. She’s perfect. Perfect size, perfect shape. I don’t know if I want to touch her with my fingers or my tongue. If I want to fuck her tits and finish there too.
Amelia wraps her fingers around my wrist. It’s a good thing she’s able to stay in control, because I’m hopeless.
I’m completely fucking stupid when she places my palm on her breast. I whine when I twist her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
The noise that escapes her is rough, a strangled breath as she squirms.
“I haven’t done this a lot, but I have done this. I know what I’m doing. Sort of.” I cup her breast with my whole hand. “You’re just so fucking hot, and I’m totally distracted.”
“Thank you.” Her head tilts, and her eyes flutter closed. “You’re sweet.”
I don’t want to be sweet.
I want to be her fucking demise.
“About tonight,” I say. “I want to take things slow. I don’t want to mess anything up.”
“You could never mess anything up, Grant.” Her gasp is shallow when I pinch her nipple again and turn it between my fingers. She arches her back and grips the sheets tight. “Oh.”
I change my position and lean forward. I swirl my tongue, sucking on her nipple until she grasps my shoulder. She digs her fingers into my bicep, and her sharp nails prick my skin.
I wonder if that’s the next tattoo I’ll get: little half-moons to commemorate the best night of my life.
“You’ll tell me if you don’t like something?” I ask against the curve of her breast. “If I’m not doing something right?”
“Yes.” She pushes on my shoulder, urging me down her body. “This is very right, but I want more.”
“More,” I repeat. I drag my tongue down her sternum, not stopping until I get to her stomach. I put a hand flat on her belly and fan my fingers out. My star tattoo looks nice against her skin. I wonder what it would look like other places. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve used you as my inspiration when I’ve touched myself, and I’m wondering how different it would be—will be—with you here.”
My cock throbs, and I thrust against the mattress for some relief. My mind wanders, and I’m imagining her in bed, naked and spread out with three fingers inside herself. Head tipped back, a bead of sweat rolling between her tits. Pre-cum leaks in my boxers, and I kiss the top of her thigh.
“Fuck,” I mumble. “Tell me about it.”
“It was the All-Star weekend when you were in the Skills Challenge. I went back to my room after I left the club and got myself off while I pretended you were the one doing it.”
“You should’ve texted me to come to your room.”
“I wouldn’t have let you touch me then.”
“I would have been happy just watching. I would have been happy to drag a chair to the edge of the bed and sit there while you made yourself come.” I twist my fingers in her underwear. “But here I am. You’re letting me touch you now, and I’m going to take good care of you.”
“You’ve been taking care of me for years, Gran, but I want something different tonight.” Amelia bends her knees. She spreads her legs and puts her hand on mine. “And you’re the only one who can give it to me.”
I pull her underwear over her knees and shins, tucking the black scrap of fabric in my pocket. I shift on the mattress so I’m on my stomach between her legs.
She’s so wet. I touch my thumb to her clit, glad I found the right spot when her legs nudge open even wider and she lifts her hips.
“I haven’t been with anyone in years,” Amelia says, filling the silence. “It might take my body a minute to adjust to you.”
“Baby, I’m ready to learn and have nowhere to be. It could take a million minutes, and I’m still going to say thank-you after.”
I scoot closer, keeping my gaze locked on hers as I lower my mouth to where I’m circling her with my thumb. She moans when I lick her, trying to squirm while looking for more friction. I drape my forearm over her stomach, keeping her firmly in place, and her gasp tells me I’m doing the right thing.
Possibly likes to be restrained, I tell myself, making a mental note to jot down later. Must have convo about future methods.
I lick her again, letting my tongue match the circle pattern my thumb just made. When she’s panting, I pull my mouth away. My eyes never stray from her face, and when I push a single finger inside her, I decide this is what I want every night to look like.
Head thrown back, hair everywhere. Flushed skin, heavy breaths. A hand tangled in my hair, yanking the strands taut.
I bury my face in the soft skin of her hip and thigh, my own moan chasing its way up my throat. I grab her left leg and put her foot on my shoulder; the new angle lets me get deeper, all the way to my knuckle.
“Oh, fuck. Grant. I can take two. I need to take two. I want to feel you inside me.”
“You can’t feel me?” I prop up on an elbow, determined.
I think of every conversation I’ve overheard in a locker room about how to get a woman off and what they like.
I spread her open while I turn my wrist so my palm is up, burying two fingers in her pussy.
“How about now? Can you feel me inside you, Lia?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “I can. And I’ve waited for this for so long.”
I don’t want to make her wait anymore. Not when her eyelashes flutter open and she blinks down at me. She watches while I fuck her with my fingers, and I might actually die if I ever get the chance to fuck her for real.
The slick glide of my fingers fills the room. She’s even wetter now, and I turn my head so I can kiss the inside of her knee before putting my tongue back on her clit, tasting her again.
I’m pretty sure it’s messy. I’m pretty sure I have no fucking rhythm, but I must be doing something right, because Amelia keeps moaning. She keeps her hands on me, soft whispers of oh and fuck mixed in when I add a third finger.
There’s a hiss of pain and I stop, slowing my movements so she can get used to the stretch. I rub her stomach. I kiss her calf, her ankle, careful until she gives me a nod.
“Harder,” she tells me. “Can you—I liked when your thumb was on me.”
“Like this?” I press my thumb against her clit, smiling when she groans. “Yeah. Just like that. Being a fast learner pays off.”
Her body reacts, pussy tightening around me while she squirms on the sheets. I help her chase it, following her cues and watching with awe as she whimpers my name.
I’m going to replay it at night, the soundtrack to every future dirty fantasy I’m going to have about her and her alone.
When I use my tongue and fingers at the same time, she falls apart in a mess of moans, flailing legs, and a hand clamped on the back of my neck.
Her body shakes, the aftershocks from the orgasm hitting her as I slow my fingers.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I say, glad that she lifts her hips when I pull out of her like she’s asking for more. Like she wants to do this with me again. “I’ve never—it’s always been…” I trail off, bashful.
“What?” Amelia lifts her head off the pillows so she can look at me. “Talk to me, Grant.”
“I was younger the last time I did that. The few people I was with were girls who were trying to figure out what they liked and what worked for them. But you…” I bring my fingers to my tongue, sucking them clean one by one while our gazes stay locked on each other.
“You’re a fucking woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. It’s sexy as hell.”
“Age pays off, I guess.” Her smile is sleepy. She doesn’t argue when I move so I can kiss her. Her tongue brushes along my lips, asking me to open my mouth, and I do. “Mm. I taste good, don’t I?”
“No.” My laugh is hoarse. I grip my cock over my shorts, wondering how much longer I can last. “You taste like heaven, baby.”
“I like when you call me that.” Amelia reaches for me. I bring her to my chest, her entire body warm against mine. “I never thought I had a thing for terms of endearment, but from you, I’m a fan.”
“Yeah?” I kiss her forehead, hoping my heart rate slows down. This much excitement can’t be good for my health. “Guess I’ll have to keep using it then.”
“About that.” She shifts in my hold so we’re facing each other. “We have to talk about what happens next.”
Let’s buy a house.
Marry me.
I’ll take your last name.
“Are you talking about tonight? Or in general?”
“I’m talking about us. The future. I realize having the what are we conversation seconds after you got me off is probably borderline unhinged, but given the nature of our jobs and the fact that I’m thirty-four and not in the mood to play any games, we need to be on the same page.”