Chapter 21 #2
Just as I was about to come undone, he stopped.
I didn’t know how he knew I was about to fall over the edge, but he did.
And he stopped, pulling out of me. I almost screamed at the loss—the loss of him, the loss of my pleasure.
It was the third time he kept me from orgasming.
I was squirming, trying to get to him, trying to get free from him, but I couldn’t move.
He chuckled breathlessly at my struggle. The deep sound of it washed through me, stoking flames of anger and desire. Tears prickled at my lids again. This was brutal fucking torture. I teetered between calling him the foulest of names and begging for him.
“Want more, baby?” he teased, but I had already lost all sense of self-respect.
“Yes, you fucking bastard. Yes. Please. Just fuck me,” I begged shakily.
“Hmmm,” he rumbled, enjoying my words, the sound reverberating through my bones.
I could barely see him from the way he held me down, but I was so in tuned with him that I could feel his every breath, his every movement, no matter how small.
I swear I could even taste his lust in the air, swirling around me in a purple haze.
He was all there was. My world started and stopped with him.
“Whatever my princess wants…” He thrusted back into me, making me gasp for air, my whole body a trembling mess.
Fuck. No one has ever felt this good inside me. I knew in this moment, that I would beg, lie, cheat, steal. Gods, maybe even kill for this man. I couldn’t explain, even to myself, the chokehold he had on me. On my body. My heart. My fucking soul.
I fell apart, while he kept me together one agonising thrust at a time, slowing, teasing, each time my orgasm neared.
He kept me on the edge of bliss, so torturously good, until he himself couldn’t hold on anymore.
His thrusts deepened, fucking me hard, yet slow.
His steady rhythm finally allowed me over the precipice, and my mind and body spiralled through the most absolute pleasure I had ever felt.
Grayson was no man, I decided, as I screamed his name. No, he fucked like a god.
We collapsed onto the forest floor, trembling, panting.
I felt like I was glowing. My soul radiated pure bliss. I had never felt this thoroughly satiated. Then again, I had never been this thoroughly fucked before. And for the most part, we were still completely dressed.
Grayson turned me over, his eyes scanning my face, then laughed hoarsely. He placed a soft kiss on my nose. “You need a shower, Princess.” He picked a leaf from my hair.
I looked down at myself. I was caked in dirt everywhere my body had touched the ground.
I blushed up at him. The way he looked at me had my heart thumping.
He stared down at me for a few minutes, and I let him.
For once, the intensity in his eyes didn’t have me reeling. Instead, it pulled at my soul.
“You have me on my fucking knees, Ava,” he whispered, more to himself, before he kissed me.
His kiss was sweet, but urgent as he pulled me tightly into him, his body surrounding me, holding me.
He left me blushing and breathless as he pulled away.
But I caught him slowly disappearing into his own mind, a crease forming between his eyes.
I reached up and caressed his face, pulling him back to me.
“Is something wrong?” What was he thinking about?
His eyes darted over my face, his expression shifting. “How can anything be wrong, Princess? You’re here with me. You’re mine. Everything is perfect.”
Warmth washed through me. Yes, everything was perfect. Like so many times with him, I couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of me. He made me so happy; I couldn’t contain it all in my body.
Grayson dipped down and placed his mouth over mine, capturing my laughter in a kiss, his face filled with wonder when he straightened again. “Tell me I’ll hear that sound for the rest of my life.”
A lifetime with Grayson. The thought filled my body with a lightness that threatened to levitate me off the ground.
I studied his perfect face. My fingers traced softly over his scars. “You promised to give me a scar, remember? A scar for a scar,” I recited his words.
Grayson’s smile faltered. “It’s the only promise I’ll gladly break. I’m not going to hurt you, Princess. Not like that.”
So the knife at my throat had been a bluff.
But I wanted him to scar me. I wanted a visible mark that echoed the mark he had left on my soul. “You said that you like yours. That it reminded you of me.”
Grayson nodded, a furrow forming between his brows.
“I want that too.”
He shook his head, his smile returning. “I’m not cutting you up.”
“I want it here.” I shifted my pants down and pointed at my hipbone. “Two scars that matches yours.”
“Ava…” He shifted away, about to protest some more, but I didn’t let him. I captured his face between my hands and kissed him softly. He leaned into it, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer to him.
Grayson chuckled against my lips. “You’re insane, baby.”
And don’t I know it. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
His smile turned wicked, but he kept quiet.
I picked up his knife, where it was discarded in the foliage. I studied the weapon for a second, trying to see why he had such an attachment to it. It’s always with him. “You say I’m yours? Then mark me as such.”
A low grumble vibrated in his chest. “Dear God, Ava. You know just how to bring the monster out of me.” His warm fingers clasped around mine and the knife.
Heat spread through me, and I shuddered in anticipation.
Grayson let his forehead drop to mine. “Change your mind, please, Princess. I’m trying to be good. For you.”
I pulled my fingers through his hair. That was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to domesticate him. I wanted Grayson to be himself—wild, free and a tad insane. Gods, I loved his crazy. It scared me, but I fucking craved it. “Don’t you want your mark on me?” I baited.
His breath came out in a woosh. “God, baby, you know I have a fucked-up urge to mark every inch of you as mine. I’ve wanted to carve my name into your perfect skin, right here.” His fingers grazed the skin over my heart, making it beat faster.
Grayson watched me tentatively, waiting for me to balk at his confession.
This was the Grayson I wanted. Being his would be a rollercoaster ride in the best way. I guided the knife to my hip, basking in the heat of his gaze. His fingers tightened around the knife, making my inner thighs clench. Why was this such a turn-on?
He shifted, lowering his mouth to my hip, placing gentle kisses where I wanted him to cut me, while pulling the knife from my grip. I stopped breathing.
The cold tip of the knife trailed lightly over my skin in the shape of Grayson’s scars.
“Yes, like that,” I prompted breathlessly.
“Then open your eyes, Ava. And don’t you take them off me.”
I did as I was told, holding his gaze as he applied pressure to the tip of the blade, letting it pierce my skin. “Gods, you’re gorgeous,” I hissed as the sting registered through my body. He was undeniably the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Grayson chuckled, shaking his head. “When you’re ready, count to three.”
I took in a shuddering breath and counted. The knife sliced through my skin faster than I could say three. Grayson’s eyes shot back to mine. Was it the hunger in them, or the burn that had me panting?
I threw my head back, trying to catch my breath, but Grayson grabbed my jaw.
“Again,” he growled, his eyes piercing mine.
I counted to three and yelped as the knife left another burning line through my skin. I followed Grayson’s gaze to the marks on my hip. He swiped at a trickle of blood with his thumb. His hand trembled as he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean.
“Mine,” he mouthed soundlessly, still staring at the bloody lines, his eyes wild with emotion.
Tears pricked my eyes. Yes, I was his. So completely, it scared me. It was like free-falling through the sky; I had no control.
He sat up on his haunches, and ripped a piece of fabric from his shirt, like he once did in the back of Pete’s delivery van.
He pressed the material softly against my cuts and buttoned my pants up, to keep the material in place.
He zipped my jacket closed over my destroyed shirt and lowered his forehead to mine, deeply inhaling my still ragged breaths. “Fuck, Ava.”
I chuckled.
Grayson and I stumbled in the cabin door, just as the sun winked out. My giggles subsided as Gemma, on her way to the kitchen, froze before me, her eyes going impossibly wide.
“Ava, what…” She cut herself off, straightening and bringing her hand up. “Nope, I don’t wanna know,” she declared, continuing to the kitchen.
I looked questioningly at Grayson. He had a wide grin on his face as he took my hand and led me up the stairs. Hunter, who was sitting on the couch, didn’t even bother to look our way. He hadn’t spoken a word to me since I arrived this morning. He had made himself scarce the whole day.
Grayson pulled me into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I froze as I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, my eyes as wide as Gemma’s had been. The whole side of my face and neck was caked with dirt. There were leaves and who knows what else sticking out of my hair.
“Really, Grayson?” I groaned as I turned to him. But my scowl slipped away as his head tipped back with laughter.
He took my hair down, then took my clothes off. He studied me for a second, his fingers gliding softly over my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, then added with a crooked smile, “And dirty. Why does the dirt look good on you?”
I rolled my eyes and pushed at his chest, getting into the shower. I was pleasantly surprised when he followed me in, taking the soap from me. “Let me, Princess.”
I relaxed into his soft touch as he washed me from head to toes, taking extra care of the cuts on my breast and hip.
The smile on my face only broadened. I was so happy it felt like I would burst at the seams any moment.
When he had asked me if I wanted his help to wash, that first night at the cabin, I should have said yes.
The thought had me giggling under my breath.
Grayson worked the conditioner into my strands and then started massaging my scalp.
I sighed in utter contentment, and leaned back against his firm chest, chiselled by the gods themselves.
“I swear I’m dreaming. You can’t be real,” I murmured softly. Not in my wildest dreams could I conjure up a man like Grayson.
He swivelled me around and lifted me off my feet, wrapping my legs around his torso. “I was thinking the same thing about you,” he said as he slid into me again.