Chapter Twenty-Nine Grant #2
“I know what I want to make you do,” I murmured against her skin.
“I want to make you shake, my love. I want to make you squeeze so tight around me that I can’t fucking breathe.
” I gripped her face in my hands, gratified by the hazy look in her eyes.
“I want to make love to my wife.” I kissed her, achingly soft, speaking against her lips because I couldn’t bear to pull away.
“I can be so good and still do all that. Will you let me show you?”
Her answer was an enthusiastic kiss while her fingers dug into my hair.
Mercy broke away from the kiss and started tugging at my clothes.
I fisted the shirt behind my head and tore it off.
Her mouth fell open when she caught sight of my upper body, her dilated gaze tracking down my stomach and to my rather obscene hard-on as it pressed against the cotton of my track pants.
“I was just trying to be noble, but honestly, fuck it, that sounds like a much better plan.”
I grinned into our next kiss, gripping her ass and hoisting her up into my arms as I strode the last few steps to the bed.
With Mercy in the middle of the mattress, I straightened, holding her heated gaze as I curled my fingers into the waistband of her cotton shorts and the silk underwear beneath and tugged them off her legs.
I licked my bottom lip, nudging her cropped T-shirt above the bottom curve of her uncovered breasts.
I clucked my tongue in a disapproving sound. “Nothing underneath. Look at you.”
She arched her back at the slow drag of my fingertip around the hardened edge of her nipple, that sweet pink color making my mouth water.
I braced my hands on the bed on either side of her hips and ghosted a kiss over the tip of one, then the other.
Dragged my lips down the line of her sternum and dipped my tongue into her belly button.
Her stomach trembled. Her thighs did too.
I sucked one breast into my mouth, eyes locked on hers as my teeth lightly grazed her nipple.
She slapped a hand over her mouth to hide a loud moan, and I ripped it away.
“Let me hear,” I rasped. “I want every single sound.”
I kissed along her ribs, her hips, the ticklish soft skin on her lower belly, dragging my fingers along the goose bumps on her soft skin.
Mercy dug her fingers into my hair, a tight grip that made me hiss through clenched teeth.
I wedged my shoulders between her thighs, pressing my hips against the mattress when she draped a leg over my back and made a restless rocking motion.
Instead of lowering my head between her legs, I lifted my chin. “Eyes on me, darling.”
A shiver racked her frame, but my good girl, she did as I asked.
I licked. Long, slow, firm. Just the way she liked.
Her stomach quivered, but her gaze, it never left mine.
I wrapped a hand around her thigh to hold her in place as I kissed between her legs, deep and tongue-heavy, a groan rattling from my chest when she palmed her own breasts and watched me feast.
I’d make this so good for her.
It wasn’t our first time—not for her, definitely not for me. But this was the first time that counted. When she could look at me with eyes wide open and know that my worship of her came from a place of utter veneration, of the truest kind of love.
After a few moments, I pulled back, wiping my mouth and chin along the inside of her leg. She bit down on her bottom lip, eyes flaring hot when I sucked on the skin of her inner thigh. She liked when I left marks there.
“As much as I love feeling you beneath my tongue,” I said, prowling over her body until my lips brushed hers, “I want to be inside you for the first one.”
I licked into her mouth on a chest-rattling groan. She cradled my jaw, sighing into the luxurious, filthy kiss that tasted like her.
I stood, smiling faintly when she followed me with her mouth, a slight wrinkle of disappointment in her brow. “Patience,” I instructed. “Hands above your head, now, love.”
Mercy’s lips quirked to the side, a mischievous glint in her eye as she arched her back and did as I asked, her wrists crisscrossed above her head. She looked thoroughly debauched, lips plump, shirt rucked up above her mouthwatering breasts, pink from the sucking kisses and the stubble on my jaw.
Her eyes traced over my chest, shoulders, and arms as I untied the drawstring on my sweats, lingering on the flex of my stomach. “Like what you see?” I asked.
“Depends on what you can do with it, Hastings.”
I growled under my breath, and her smile widened as my movements became jerky and unfocused, shoving the sweats down over my hips and thighs until I could kick them off.
She clucked her tongue. “Nothing underneath. Look at you.”
I took myself in hand, moving my wrist up and down once. Twice. It was so fucking gratifying, the way her breath hitched.
I prowled over her, gripping her wrists in one hand and taking her mouth in a dangerous, deep kiss. There was no stopping the painful, drumming urge to take her fast, fuck her hard. Slow and sweet wasn’t for us. It never had been.
This was the way we made love. The way we’d always been.
Like the world outside us could collapse and we’d never know.
Mercy hitched her hips along my sides, whimpering into my mouth when I rolled my hard-on against her center. When I teased her mindless. When I brought myself to a shivering line where I imagined coming right there, right like that. We’d done that before.
We’d done so many things.
But this wasn’t the time to play.
She tugged at my grip, and I nipped at her bottom lip, a gentle rebuke that made her buck underneath me.
“Let me touch you,” she begged. The hard tips of her breasts brushed against my chest, her stomach pressed to mine as she arched her back. But I was too heavy, too strong. The desire to fight me, even in this, was deeply ingrained in Mercy, and that was what made it so good.
“Not yet.”
She moaned, chasing another kiss, which I gave her gladly. But I still didn’t release her hands. “Fuck you, Hastings.”
I pressed her knee against my chest with my other hand and teased her opening with short, shallow thrusts. “I’m trying to, darling.”
We kissed deeply, winding tongues and panting breaths, rolling hips and warm, fragrant skin. We were nothing but sensation, and finally, I let go of her hands so I could dig my fingers into her hair and tug her head back.
She clutched at my back, my ass, begging me silently to come inside her.
Mercy shook underneath me, and my entire world narrowed to a sharp point. To her. Nothing but her.
With my mouth on hers and our eyes open, locked on each other, I adjusted my hips and pushed forward, a long, slow slide, until I was buried to the hilt. Her eyes fluttered shut, and I dropped my forehead against hers as I struggled to catch my breath.
“Perfect,” I whispered against her temple. “You’re so perfect.”
“Grant. Please.”
She asked so sweetly, took me so well, and there was no benefit to not giving her what she wanted. What I wanted too.
So I did, in long, languid strokes, gritting my teeth at the wash of sensation as it climbed up my spine, wrapped tight around my hips. As the room filled with the slap of my body against hers, her sweet moaning sounds and the way she chanted, yes, yes, yes, and right there, and oh God, Grant.
I wanted it to last forever. Wanted to exist in this space for the rest of my life, but only with her. Only ever with her.
I’d slept with this woman hundreds of times. Countless moments of pleasure that defied logic, because it always seemed to get better and better.
And this . . . this was somehow the best of them all.
The speed of my hips increased. Mercy’s breasts bounced with every thrust. Her thighs started to shake. I slid my hand between us, pressing down with my thumb in tight, flat circles that she liked.
“I love you,” I told her, holding her gaze as I did. “I love you.”
Another punishing thrust, and Mercy’s orgasm struck, her back bowing, her mouth open on a silent scream, and the brutal tightening around me, the utter ease with which she dismantled my composure, was like a splitting underneath my skin.
I came a heartbeat after her. I tucked my face into the curve of her neck and let it pour through my veins, hot and thick and so fucking good that my head spun.
I slowed my movements, turning my head to kiss her again.
Our kisses were soft and slow, and she was smiling.
She didn’t run.
She was here.
She came back to me.
I rolled us onto our sides, curling my arms around her back and waist, letting our legs intertwine while we caught our breath.
Mercy hummed, dragging her fingers along the length of my sweat-slicked spine. “We don’t have to leave this bed today, do we?”
I smiled. “No. We don’t have to go anywhere.”
She opened her eyes. “Good. I have all sorts of things I want to try with you.”
“Is that so?”
“Do you think someone’s gonna make a noise complaint?”
“Oh,” I drawled, “I can guarantee it. You’re quite loud, you know.”
“You love it.” She snuggled into my chest, pressing a sweet kiss to the space above my heart. It was hers, and now she knew it.
I set my chin on her head and sighed. “Yes. I rather do.”