19. Grace
Grace
My hands wander as we kiss, coming to rest on his belt buckle.
I make quick work of undoing it, pulling the leather from the buckle in one swift motion.
My fingers tremble on the button and I struggle to tug it free.
I grunt into Tucker’s mouth, which amuses him enough to break the kiss. “Need some help?”
“I don’t know why my fingers won’t cooperate,” I huff.
“Probably for the same reason my hands are shaking just thinking about sliding your dress off.” His hands cover my own. “I’m on cloud nine about this, but I’m also nervous as hell. No one has ever affected me the way you do, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
“It’s like you read my mind.” Tucker has always had this air of confidence about him, like nothing could possibly make him waver, so it’s oddly comforting to hear he’s almost as in his head about this as I am.
His hands slide up my forearms and come to rest on my elbows. “Let’s just take a breath, calm our nerves, and when you’re ready, I’m going to fuck you like my life depends on it.”
My breath hitches at the same time my pussy clenches, desperate for him to put his money where his mouth is.
But I do as he says, taking a deep breath and holding for a second, before slowly exhaling.
My heartbeat slows, and I look up to meet Tucker’s gaze.
He’s staring at my lips, and a shudder of pleasure courses through me as he licks his own.
I don’t even think it was intentional, but fuck, it’s hot.
It creates a sudden, desperate ache in my hands, a need to touch and explore every inch of him.
“I’m ready,” I say, my fingers remembering their mission and moving deftly to work Tucker’s button undone.
His hands slide off mine when I move on to his zipper.
He groans at the pressure I’m applying so close to his cock and I revel in the sound.
My fingertips reach for the hem of his shirt, sliding it up across the toned muscle of his abdomen and through the light dusting of hair on his chest. He reaches behind his head, grabbing a handful of his shirt and ripping it over his head in that hot way men do.
Now shirtless in front of me, I take in his half naked form for the first time since we were teenagers.
Age has done nothing but make him hotter and fitter than ever, and I’m almost salivating at the sight.
My primal instincts threaten to take over when he gives me a lazy smile.
“My turn.” His voice is low and deep, twisting my insides into knots.
Once again, his hands are on my bare thighs, gliding up my body and taking my dress with them.
His fingers graze the tops of my breasts as he drags my dress over my bra, and I suck in a breath at the unexpected contact.
Once he’s pulled it over my head, he discards it on the floor and slides his hands across the band of my bra.
He has it undone and on the floor in the blink of an eye, and I gasp as the cool air pulls my nipples taut.
Tucker takes a step back, his eyes roaming lazily over my body.
He bites his bottom lip and lets out a sound that can only be described as a growl—it’s hot as fuck, and has my whole body aching with lust.
“Fuck, Gracie.” He roughs a hand through his unruly hair as he lets out a breath. “You’re perfect.”
As he watches me, I step backward until I feel his bed against the back of my legs.
Without breaking eye contact, I turn slightly and begin to bend myself over the side of his bed, but the sheets barely graze my nipples before Tucker is behind me, his firm arm wrapping around my torso and pulling me to him.
“No, sweetheart. Not like that.” Tucker’s words are a whisper against the back of my neck.
I spin in his arms, coming to face him. When my brows draw together in confusion, Tucker continues, “Gracie, your face is all I’ve dreamed of.
Even after all this time, yours was the only face I wanted to see.
So please, now that I’m finally fucking you again, let me look at you. ”
A full body blush blooms across my skin, heating me from head to toe. “I guess I’d be a fool to argue with that.”
“Damn right you would.” He punctuates his words with a slap to my bare ass, his other arm still wrapped around my midsection.
Hands on my shoulders, he pushes me down to lay flat against the mattress.
For a moment he just stands there, watching, as if he’s not sure how to process the fact that this is really happening.
Boy, do I know that feeling. I slide backward until my head makes contact with the pillows, propping myself up against the headboard.
He’s still wearing his jeans, but I can see the hard outline of his cock, which spurs me on for what I’m about to do.
I glide my hands up to cup my breasts, tweaking my nipples between my fingers.
Tucker’s throat works as he swallows hard, his eyes darkening.
I let my knees fall apart, spreading my dripping pussy wide open for him.
I watch closely as Tucker’s eyes become hooded, his bare chest rising and falling faster than before.
“I thought I’d show you how I like to be touched, if you’re interested.” My voice is sultry, barely recognizable through the lust dripping from my tone.
Tucker moves toward me, stopping when he reaches the end of the bed.
“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises?
Please, show me how you think you like to be touched, and then I’ll show you the real thing.
” He palms his cock through his jeans, groaning, and I pinch my nipples to the sound, rolling my hips.
“A lot of things have changed since the last time we touched like this, Tucker.” He’s staring at me so intently.
I fight to hold back a moan with the next tweak of my nipple, desperately grabbing at my breast and wishing it was Tucker’s hand instead.
“I don’t doubt that, but I knew your body better than I knew my own,” he rasps.
I roll a nipple between two fingers and let out a moan at his words, teasing him. It has the desired effect when Tucker groans once more, tipping his head backward and closing his eyes. Recomposing himself a moment later, he leans forward and plants his palms against the end of the mattress.
He locks eyes with me and stares deeply. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll have you writhing in a way nobody else would dare.”
Fuck, has he always had such a dirty mouth? I don’t know how much longer I can hold out when he’s talking like that in that deep timbre of his. It stirs things up deep inside me, sending a pleasure-filled shiver throughout.
“Take off your jeans and pull up a chair, cowboy.”
His jeans are on the floor in a flash, quickly followed by his underwear, and two seconds later his bare ass is sitting in the wing back chair he’s dragged over from the corner of the room.
With his arms lying on the armrests, he spreads his knees the same way I have and his thick cock lies hard against his lower abdomen.
Now this is a sight for sore eyes if I’ve ever seen one.
“You have my full attention, sweetheart,” he says, his voice deep and dripping with lust.
I almost forgot the whole point of this game I instigated, too caught up in staring at his glorious, naked form.
The sight of his hardened dick motivates me—what a compliment it is to know that I’m responsible for such an erection.
Leaving one hand palming my breast, I let the other wander across my chest and down my stomach, which dips when my fingertips ghost across that sensitive spot.
My hand travels further south, my heartbeat almost deafening as I slide my middle finger down the length of my pussy and back up, again, coating it in my arousal.
Tucker’s knuckles turn white where they grip the chair, his breathing becoming ragged.
“You’re going to cut the circulation off in your fingers if you grab that chair any tighter,” I say with a giggle, still edging myself by touching everywhere except my clit.
“Good thing I don’t need my fingers to fuck you,” he grits out, his grip unwavering.
“That’s true,” I say, sucking in a breath when I pinch my nipple again. “But if memory serves me well, you were always pretty good with your hands, so it’d be good if you kept them. Why don’t you put them to good use and stroke your cock for me?”
“With the show you’re putting on, I wouldn’t stand a chance at controlling myself.”
“Please? For me?” Teasing him brings me a great deal of pleasure, and begging him will eventually bring us both pleasure that we’ve spent years chasing.
His head drops back on a sigh, and he stays like that for a moment.
When he brings his head back up, his eyes are impossibly darker, drilling into me like never before.
His eyes don’t leave mine as he reaches down and wraps a hand around his cock, groaning at the contact.
As he does, I plunge my middle finger into my pussy, mirroring his arousal.
My eyes flick down to his large hand wrapped around his cock so I can match the timing of his strokes to the speed of my finger sliding in and out.
When Tucker notices this, his eyes flare and he visibly swallows.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he exhales, “you’re a vision.”
As his strokes speed up, I remove my finger and begin circling my clit.
Our breathing is ragged and loud, bouncing around his bedroom between moans and gasps.
I can’t tell which noise is coming from which person, too lost in the pleasure and the deep bourbon of Tucker’s eyes boring into mine from several feet away.
I grab at my breasts with my free hand, pulling painfully on my nipples as I watch Tucker watch me.
Without warning, he stands, releases his cock, and climbs onto the bed, crawling up between my spread legs.
My hands come to rest near my head in anticipation, my pussy throbbing with desire.
Tucker sucks in a breath as his cock bobs against my skin, and I can’t help but grind my hips up into him.
His hands bracket my head on the pillow, and he drops his forehead to mine as I wrap my hands around his wrists, anchoring us as one.
“That was, without a doubt, the hottest thing I’ve watched,” he says against my lips, letting out a breath. “But I need to be inside you, please. I’ll get on my knees and beg if I have to.”
A smirk tugs at my lips at the mental image of this large man on his knees.
After all, it wouldn’t be the first time today that he’d been in that position—the begging would just be an added bonus.
“We’ll leave the begging for another time,” I tease.
“I’m far too worked up to wait another second to feel you inside me. ”
Tucker raises his head to meet my gaze, his eyes reflecting the heat and desire I feel in my own. He searches them, as if looking for any hint of hesitation or uncertainty. “Tucker,” I murmur, placing a hand on his jaw. “Condom.”
As though the word awakens something inside him, Tucker pushes himself up and reaches over to his bedside table, pulling a condom from the top drawer. He stares at it for a moment, his brow creasing. “What?” I ask, confused.
He lets out a breath and smiles at me. “Just had to make sure it wasn’t expired. It’s uh… it’s been a while.” He scratches at the back of his neck and I suppress a grin. It’s always been his nervous tell, so I’m glad to see some things never change.
“C’mon, cowboy, we’re burnin’ daylight here.” I grin wickedly at him. Teasing him really is so easy and oh so entertaining.
He expertly rolls the condom onto his hard cock and kneels between my knees.
Propping myself up on my elbows, I watch him as he watches me.
I can feel his roaming eyes across every inch of my skin, goosebumps prickling wherever his gaze lingers.
I allow myself a moment to take him in as well—the light smattering of chest hair he’s grown between then and now, the small smile lines he didn’t have before that become more prominent when his lips turn upwards, the calluses and rough skin of his palms as they slide over my skin.
I’m completely enamored by him.
That feeling only expands in my chest as he reaches up and slides a hand along the side of my throat, his thumb stopping along my jaw as his fingers tangle into the hair at the nap of my neck. His thumb gently rubs back and forth over my jawline, and I lean into his touch, closing my eyes.
I feel his breath against my lips as he brings himself closer. “You are something else, Gracie girl.”
I blink my eyes open just in time to watch him slide his cock between my thighs, his gaze locked on the exact spot we become one. We both moan as he eases his way into my pussy. Pure ecstasy floods into my veins as I stretch around him, pumping straight to my heart and clit.
“Jesus, Tuck.” I’m breathless already, my heartbeat wild and erratic as it reroutes my blood supply directly between my legs.
I glance up at Tucker to find him already looking down at me.
The expression on his face almost floors me, because it’s one I haven’t seen in a very long time.
He’s looking at me with complete adoration.
He’s looking at me like I hung the moon and stars just for him.
Just one glance is enough to make me feel as though I’m something worth looking at.
He’s looking at me the way one would look at the Mona Lisa.
“I know, sweetheart. You’re doing so good.”
His gentle praise does something feral to my libido, and I can’t help the way I wrap my legs around his waist, grinding into him to pull him in with more force.
He groans and pulls back until just the tip remains, and I whimper at the loss of him.
He chuckles softly. “If you keep that up, my self-control might not last much longer.”
“I don’t want you to have self-control, I want you to fuck me.”
Tucker throws his head back with a long sigh. I hear him mutter fuck to himself before he raises his head, looking back at me again—there’s a darkness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It’s like the feral feeling I had moments ago has transferred to him, and fuck, if it isn’t hot as hell.
“Gracie, listen to me carefully: I’m going to fuck you, exactly the way you want, and then I’m going to make love to you, the way I want. Deal?”
“Deal,” I respond, before grabbing his face in mine and kissing him with everything I have—mostly because I want to, but a teeny tiny part of me does it to distract myself from the four letter word he uttered so casually, like the idea of ‘making love’ to his ex is the most normal thing in the world.
Ex.
I’ve always hated that term, particularly when it related to Tucker. We were friends, then lovers; strangers, then reconnected. In my mind, we were never ex-anything.