Chapter 9 #2
This was no soft, tentative kiss, like he’d given her last night. Grant slid a hand to grip her jaw and slanted his mouth over hers, kissing her like a man starved. Everly’s knees went weak. She gripped his face in her hands and held on for dear life.
Their teeth clashed together, and he growled deep in his throat.
Then his hands were everywhere–her shoulders, her waist. Her chest. He cupped her through her shirt, his thumb raking across her breast in a single, deliberate pass.
The pressure was just enough to light a fuse inside her, heat streaking through her like lightning.
“Grant,” she groaned, tearing her mouth away from his.
“I need you. So badly.” A small part of her was afraid that he would come to his senses, push her away again like he had last night.
She didn’t think her heart could stand his rejection a second time.
But he swept her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her the short distance to the bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot and then laying her on the unmade bed.
Everly reached for him, but he didn’t follow her. He stood over her, his breathing uneven, his eyes a little unfocused. Not at all like the calm, controlled man she’d known for years.
He was losing control over her. A thrill jolted down her spine at the thought, erasing any lingering doubt about exactly where this was headed.
“I want this to be good for you,” he said. “This isn’t just some random hookup. It’s you.”
“It will be good.” She propped herself up on her elbows. “Because it’s you.”
He smiled then, and finally leaned over her to kiss the tender spot beneath her ear. “Tell me what you want.”
“Right now, I want to get a better look at all this.” She slid her palms underneath the hem of his shirt, against the solid plane of his abdomen. Grant stood up and peeled it off with one hand. “Those too.” She nodded towards his pants.
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” He shed his jeans and stood before her in his boxer briefs, the tight underwear leaving nothing to the imagination.
Everly sat up on her knees and ran her hands over Grant’s bare torso, pressing a kiss to his chest and savoring the feel of his skin beneath her lips.
He was lean and lethal, his arms and chest devoid of tattoos—a rarity in the military.
Only the scar above his pec marked his skin. Everly brushed her fingers over its rough, uneven surface, tears stinging her eyes as she thought about what he’d carried all these months.
“Hey.” Grant weaved his fingers through her hair and tipped her face towards him, kissing away the tears that slid down her cheeks. “It looks a hell of a lot worse than it is, I promise. I’m fine.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not too badly. Should look better with time, too. Doctor said it could take a year or two to heal completely.” He freed his hands from her hair and cupped her face, dragging his thumb along her bottom lip.
Everly leaned into his touch. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“I’m not,” Grant said, his voice rough. “It led me here, with you. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”
Words failed her then, and she planted a gentle kiss on top of that ruined place, on top of the ache she knew would linger for a long time, no matter what he told her.
She kissed lower, against his belly, the sound of satisfaction that he made spurring her on.
Her hand brushed across the thick column of his cock, and his hips jerked in response.
Gentle fingers encircled her wrist. “Not yet, baby,” he breathed. “I want this to last.”
Their lips met again, teasing and tasting, as Grant urged her up.
Warm hands slid under her shirt, beneath her sweatpants, and soon she stood before him in her plain black bra and panties.
Everly suddenly wished she’d worn something sexier, lacier.
But Grant didn’t seem to care. He drew her down onto the bed with him, the heat in his gaze sending a tremor through her chest.
He reached beneath her and unfastened her bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps off her shoulders.
The thought of how he’d gotten so good at that, the women he’d been with—most of whom were no doubt better-endowed than her—had Everly covering her too-small breasts with her hands and reaching for the sheet.
“Don’t hide from me, baby.” His breath was a ragged whisper in her ear as he grabbed both her wrists in one hand and pushed her arms above her head.
“I want to see all of you.” His other hand traveled down her body, fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties.
The soft fabric slid over her skin as he pulled them down her legs, then tossed them aside.
He sat back and gazed at her like she was an oasis after a long trek through the desert. “You are…so fucking stunning. Always have been.”
“Kiss me, Grant,” she whispered, her heart doing somersaults at the reverence in his voice. She felt raw and vulnerable, her body laid bare for him. No one had ever looked at her like this, like she was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.
Grant pressed a kiss to her neck, then dragged his mouth down to flick his tongue over her painfully tight nipples, one after the other.
“Oh,” she gasped as he trailed kisses down her body, from her breasts to her belly, his hand letting go of her wrists to grip her thighs. He spread her legs wide, his mouth moving lower and lower, and alarm shot through her as she realized where he intended to kiss her next.
“Please,” she whispered. His head snapped up. “I don’t want you to do that.” Another insecurity reared its head, one that was too deeply ingrained for her to overcome right now, and she clamped her knees together.
For the briefest moment, his brow furrowed, and Everly saw disappointment flash across his face.
But he simply nodded. “Of course, baby,” he said, kissing his way back up her body, caressing her belly, her breasts.
He cupped her jaw and kissed her, his tongue stroking against hers for long moments, then pulled back and searched her gaze with his own. “Can I touch you?”
She nodded, moved beyond words at his respect for her body, his insistence that she be on board with this as much as he was.
Her pulse thrummed as Grant gently, so gently, reached between her legs, then watched her face as his fingers slipped over her slick flesh, the eye contact somehow even more intimate than the way he was touching her.
“God, you’re already so wet.” He slid a finger inside her, and then added another, stretching her. “So fucking tight.”
He withdrew his fingers once, spreading her wetness, and then plunged them back into her as his thumb began to draw slow, agonizing circles around her clit.
Tension wound inside her impossibly tight as he traced a path that grew smaller and smaller, but still didn’t make contact where she ached for it most.
“This is torture. Please,” she begged.
A slow, wicked smile spread across Grant’s face, that gorgeous mouth still just inches from hers. “Please, what, Ev? I want to hear you say it.”
“Touch me,” she demanded, the words devolving into a moan. “I can’t fucking stand it.”
He pushed his fingers in deeper than she would’ve thought possible, curving them towards the front of her body and stroking a spot she hadn’t even known existed within her, and at the same time, his thumb finally, finally skated across her clit, microscopic little flicks that sent shockwaves rippling through her body.
“Grant!” Her fingers curled into his shoulders, and she pressed her head back into the pillows as her body arched towards his hand, her hips writhing underneath his unrelenting touch.
His lips found her ear, then the curve of her neck, his breath hot against her skin while she broke apart beneath him.
She squeezed her eyes shut as stars burst behind her lids, her orgasm crashing through her so hard it left her breathless, almost embarrassed by how completely she’d unraveled.
Grant withdrew his fingers, wiping them against the sheets, then stretched out beside her and captured her mouth in a tender kiss.
“Damn, Ev.” He smoothed her hair away from her face.
“I’m gonna be thinking about that for a long time. ”
“Me too.” Everly’s limbs were liquid after the way he’d just rocked her world, little aftershocks zipping through her body, but she was still aching for more.
Desperate for this last, irrevocable step that would forever change things between them.
As if they hadn’t already crossed that threshold moments ago.
Grant reached over and rummaged through the nightstand drawer, and she heard a rip as he tore a condom from a strip.
“You really do keep this place stocked with essentials, huh?” she teased him.
He stood and removed his underwear, and her stomach did a slow flip-flop as she took in the size of him.
She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told him this morning that Jeremy didn’t enjoy sex—her mind was too muddled to do the math right now, but it had been close to a year since her last encounter.
“If STAG has taught me anything, it’s to be prepared for every possibility.
Even the ones beyond my wildest dreams.” Grant finished rolling on the condom, and his eyes darkened as he surveyed her body, her legs bent and still open.
She knew he could see everything, and she didn’t shy away this time. “Are you still okay with this, Ev?”
“More than okay. I just hope you can fit.”
He laughed, the sound sinking into her bones like warm honey.
“You flatter me.” He hooked his hands behind her knees and gently pulled her toward the edge of the bed, bracing her legs against his chest until they bracketed his body.
The insistent press of him at her entrance made her breath hitch, and his expression grew serious.
“If you change your mind, if it hurts, tell me.”
She nodded, too full of desire and anticipation to speak, and he flexed his hips, the thick length of him sliding into her inch by inch.
He took his time, his gaze on her face. And it did hurt, a little, but mostly it just felt…
perfect. Right. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as he slid home, filling her completely, and then he stilled, waiting, his hands cradling her thighs and her ankles resting on his broad shoulders. “You all right?”
“Better than all right,” she told him. “Better than I’ve been in a long, long time.” She traced a hand down his hip, the only part of him she could reach in this position. “Now show me what I’ve been missing.”