Chapter 36
Wren
Use your words.
He’s going to make me say it.
His eyes bore into me. They seem to darken. His jaw tightens.
I almost feel like refusing. I feel like walking away. It would be the right thing to do. If I weren’t so desperate for him, I would.
“Yes, I want you to fuck me.” My voice is strong and true.
The words hang in the air between us. There’s no taking them back now.
It’s a bad idea. A terrible idea. That frantic sex in the car earlier woke something up in me, and I need him. I need his cock…not him. I can keep my feelings to one side. I can and I will.
He tucks some hair behind my ear, his gaze softening just a fraction.
“Do you know I’ve had it so bad for you since I saw you with your ass hanging out of the refrigerator at work?” Grim’s voice is rough, his eyes dark with hunger. “It was the first time I really looked at you. The first time I really saw you.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “It was after you decided to make an effort to get to know people at work, after you got that complaint.” My voice comes out breathier than I’d like.
He nods, and for a split second, something that looks like guilt flashes across his face. Then it’s gone, replaced by that intense, hungry stare.
“I was blown away by your ass,” he continues, taking a step toward me.
“That was right up until you turned around, and then I couldn’t take my eyes off your tits.
” His voice drops lower, rougher. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a tits and ass male, and you have them in spades. ” He growls the last part.
I fold my arms across my chest, trying to maintain some semblance of control even as my body betrays me. My nipples are already tight, pressing against the thin fabric of my T-shirt.
“So my face doesn’t count for anything?” I tease.
“Oh, it counts alright.” He takes a step toward me, and I automatically take one back.
“You’re so damned pretty, Wren. Everything about you is pretty fucking perfect.”
Another step.
“There’s your tight, hot pussy.”
He takes another step, and the back of my thighs hit the edge of the kitchen table. There’s nowhere to go. He’s right in front of me now, his eyes locked on mine. Then they drop slightly lower on my face.
“Let’s not forget your generous-as-fuck mouth.” His voice is almost a whisper, but it’s laced with heat. “I’d like to fuck this mouth.” He reaches out, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip.
“You’re so crass.” My breathing has hitched. My whole body feels tight, wound up. My nipples are aching.
He has that look I’ve come to know well. He looks angry, but I know better. He’s turned on. So turned on, he can barely control himself.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple working, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Then there are your wide, innocent-as-fuck eyes…when we both know you’re not as innocent as you look.”
I’m trapped between Grim and the solid wood of the table. I can hardly breathe.
“Pull your pants down,” he growls. “I want you naked.”
“We’re doing this here and now?” My voice comes out as a squeak.
“Yes.” His eyes blaze. “We sure are.”
“What about Falkor?” I whisper, glancing toward the hallway. “What if he—?”
“He’s asleep.”
“What if he wakes up? What if he needs—?”
“Undress and turn around, Wren.” Grim reaches down and pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Then he shoves his sweatpants down to mid-thigh, freeing himself.
His erection slaps against his stomach, thick and hard and ready.
I can’t look away. My mouth goes dry, and I automatically lick my lips, looking down at his long, hard length.
“Do you want to suck it?” he asks, his voice strained.
I start to sink down to my knees. “Yes.”
His hands grip my hips, stopping me.
“Not today.” His voice is rough, desperate. “If I’m not inside you real soon, I’m going to lose my mind.”
“Me too.”
I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my gym pants and pull them down, stepping out of them. Then I grab the hem of my T-shirt and pull it over my head. My bra is one of those sports bra things. I reach back and unhook it, letting it fall to the floor.
Grim groans, his eyes fixed on my chest. His cock jerks.
“Falkor had better not wake up,” I tell him.
“He won’t,” Grim says, but his eyes don’t leave my breasts.
“He’ll die of a heart attack for sure if he walks in here.”
“You’d better be very fucking quiet then.” His eyes snap to mine, dark and intense.
“That goes both ways,” I shoot back. “You’re noisy when you’re inside me.”
“Turn around,” he commands. “Lie down on the table. I want your ass in the air.”
I look at the kitchen table. The same table where we just ate roasted chicken and mashed potatoes.
“We eat at this table.” I giggle.
“I’m about to have dessert. Don’t worry, I’ll disinfect it when we’re done.” He kicks his sweatpants all the way off, standing before me completely naked. “I want you on your stomach, legs as wide as you can get them.”
Just hearing him talk like that has my clit aching and my pussy clenching. I’m already getting wet. I can feel it.
I turn and position myself at the table, then lean forward, lying down on my stomach. The wood is cool against my overheated skin. My breasts mash up against the surface.
“Spread your legs,” Grim says from behind me.
I do as he says, opening my legs as wide as I can while still maintaining my balance. I’m so turned on I can barely think straight.
I hear him drop to his knees behind me. Then I feel his breath on my inner thighs.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “I love how easy it is to make you wet. I want you to gush for me.”
I whimper.
I bite down on my fist to keep from crying out as he drags his tongue along my slit. It’s slow and deliberate. My eyes widen, and my breath comes in hard pants. Then he circles my clit, laving and sucking. His hands are gripping my ass cheeks, holding me open for him.
I want to groan and whimper, but I don’t. I hold it all back.
Then he pushes his tongue inside me, fucking me with it. Grim has a big tongue, and he knows how to use it. When he uses the tip of his finger to rub on my clit while still fucking me with his tongue, my legs start to shake.
He alternates between licking my clit and pushing his tongue inside me, over and over, building me up. I’m panting against the table, trying desperately to stay quiet. My hands grip the edges. My mouth is open, but no sound comes out except more ragged breathing.
When I’m right on the edge of coming, he pulls back.
“Please,” I whimper.
“Patience.” His voice is rough. “I’ll let you come soon enough.”
He goes back to work, his mouth on me again. This time, he sucks my clit into his mouth, and I have to press my face into the table to muffle my moan. His tongue is relentless, circling and flicking, building the pressure inside me until I’m vibrating.
“Please,” I beg again, not even caring how desperate I sound. “Grim, please.”
He sucks harder, and I feel it everywhere. My toes curl. My thighs shake. I’m so close. Nearly…nearly…
Then he pulls back again.
“You’re going to kill me,” I whisper.
“Easy,” he says. “I’ve got you. Is this what you need?”
I feel the head of his cock press against my entrance. He doesn’t push in. Just holds there, letting me feel him.
“Make me come,” I beg in a small voice that is laced with desperation.
He pushes forward, entering me slowly. The stretch is immediate, that burn mixed in with pleasure in a way that makes my eyes roll back. He’s so big. So thick. I feel every inch as he works himself inside me.
I want to cry out. I want it so badly I have to press my lips together to keep from doing it.
“Breathe,” he reminds me, his hands gripping my hips.
I do, forcing myself to relax as he pushes deeper. The burn intensifies, but it’s good. In and out he thrusts. Slowly…so slowly. So good. By the time he’s fully seated inside me, I’m panting again.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans.
He stays still for a moment, letting me adjust. Then he starts to move.
His first thrust is slow, almost gentle. But by the second and third, he’s picking up speed. The table creaks beneath us with each thrust, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.
He finds a rhythm, his hips snapping forward, driving deep. The angle is perfect, hitting that spot inside me that makes me crazy.
“Right there. Don’t stop.”
He grunts softly.
He keeps going, hitting that spot over and over. I’m getting wetter with each thrust. There are wet suctioning noises with each stroke. Every nerve ending is on fire. I’m close. Right on the edge.
The table makes a scraping noise as it shifts slightly across the floor.
We both freeze.
I hold my breath, listening for any sound from the hallway. From Falkor’s room.
Nothing.
Grim starts moving again, but this time he stays deep, using short, punchy thrusts that keep the table from moving too much but still hit my G-spot.
I’m really having to work to keep from making noises. It’s tough. Almost impossible.
He keeps that rhythm, and it’s driving me insane. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through me, building and building. I’m so wet I can feel it running down my thighs.
Then he slides one hand between my legs from behind.
I think he’s going to touch my clit, give me that final push I need to come. But he doesn’t. His fingers slide through my wetness, gathering it, but he doesn’t touch that aching bundle of nerves.
“Please,” I whimper.
“Not yet,” he says again.
He keeps fucking me with those slow, steady, punchy thrusts. Staying deep. Working that spot inside me. But not quite giving me enough to push me over the edge.
It’s torture. Exquisite torture.
I’m vibrating with need. My pussy is clenching around him with every thrust, trying to pull him deeper. My clit is throbbing, desperate for attention.
“Grim,” I plead. “Please. I need to come.”
“I know.” His voice is strained. He’s close too. I can hear it in his voice.
He keeps that maddening rhythm. Deep and slow.
He puts a finger against my back entrance.
My eyes fly open, and I yelp in shock.
“Shhhhh.” His voice is soothing, even as he continues to fuck me…slowly but deep and hard. “Trust me.”
I pant hard as the pressure increases. Grim pushes the tip of his finger into my ass. I think it’s his thumb.
I’m breathing hard. I sound like I’m running a marathon. He keeps fucking me. Keeps me on the edge.
His finger is…it… It’s so different. So intense.
“Trust me,” he grunts again.
I make a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a yes.
He pushes the tip of his finger further inside, just barely breaching that tight ring of muscle.
I moan, louder than I should.
“Quiet,” he warns.
When he pushes in just that little deeper, the sensation is immediate and overwhelming. It’s like someone turned up all the senses inside me. Everything feels more intense. More alive. My G-spot becomes a live wire, every thrust sending shockwaves through my entire body.
I make a soft keening noise as my pussy starts to flutter around him.
He fucks me a little harder. A little faster. His finger goes a little deeper, and my jaw goes slack as everything lets go.
I open my mouth to scream, but his other hand clamps over it, muffling the sound. He is hunched over me, with his thumb in my ass and his hand clamped tightly over my mouth, still thrusting into me.
And I come hard. Harder than I ever have before.
My whole body convulses. He holds me down with his cock and his body.
I can’t move. I can’t make a sound. I can only feel.
My pussy clamps down on his cock so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt him.
I feel it in every part of me, from my toes to my fingers, even behind my eyes.
Grim’s movements become more frantic. The table starts to scrape across the floor again. His breathing is harsh against my back. His cock jerks inside me, and then heat floods me as he comes with a muffled groan.
But he doesn’t stop.
He keeps going, his movements still frantic. The sensation is overwhelming. I’m too sensitive.
He moves the finger in my back entrance again, pushing a tiny bit deeper, working it in and out in time with his thrusts. It’s too much. I’m going to die.
Holy shit!
The next orgasm that slams into me is even more intense than the first. My body doesn’t know what to do with all the sensations. I’m shaking. Trembling. Coming so hard, I think I might actually pass out. I groan into his hand. Tears spring into my eyes.
Grim rides it out with me, making me feel every second of it. Drawing it out until I’m a quivering, boneless mess on the kitchen table.
Only then does he slow down. His thrusts become gentler. Slower. Until finally, he stops.
He collapses over me, bracing himself so he doesn’t crush me. The table creaks under our combined weight. We’re both breathing hard.
After what feels like forever, he pulls out of me.
I hear him walk away, and then the sound of the bathroom door closing.
I just lie there, unable to move. If I try, I will crumple onto the floor in a heap. My legs are shaking. My whole body is buzzing. I can still feel the echoes of those orgasms pulsing through me.
The bathroom door opens, and Grim comes back. He smells like fruity shower gel now. His hands are wet.
He cleans me with a warm, wet cloth.
“Thanks,” I whisper, still lying on the table because I don’t trust my legs to hold me.
He goes back into the bathroom. I hear water running. I think he goes into the laundry room.
A few minutes later, he returns.
I push myself up and grab my clothes from the floor. I pull the shirt over my head, holding onto the rest of my things.
Grim doesn’t bother dressing at all. He sprays and wipes down the dining room table as promised.
“I told you you’d like it.” His voice is filled with amusement.
“Smartass.” I smile at him.
He winks at me as he picks up his clothes, holding them in one hand.
He’s still fully erect. How does he do that?
“We should get to bed,” I say.
“Yours or mine?”
I give him a look. “I thought we weren’t going to sleep together in the same bed.”
“Who said anything about sleeping?”
I stare at him for a few long moments.
“On second thought,” he says, and I feel disappointment, “we should probably take a shower. I’m feeling a little dirty. You?”
“I’m feeling a lot dirty.”
He grins, and I swear I almost come, no need for touching required. We hurry down the hallway.
This is perfect.
Some no-strings-attached sex to keep our minds off things.