The Spy Who Came For Christmas(20)

His hand lifted and curled under her chin. “I don’t know, but you aren’t facing it alone. You don’t have to ever face anything alone again. I’m right here, sweetheart, and I’m not going any place.”

But…there was one place she wanted him to go—no, them to go. His bedroom. “Will you make love to me?” She hadn’t realized how much courage it would take to say those words. Her breath hitched and her hands trembled as she waited for his response.

Grayson smiled at her. “Oh, sweetheart, it would be my absolute pleasure.” His head bent and his lips took hers. Softly. Carefully. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. There would be no stopping. No turning back. She wanted to be with Grayson. She wanted to let go…

To go wild.

With him.

He picked her up, still kissing her, and he carried her through the cabin. She hadn’t ever been carried before, and he made her feel… protected. Precious.

He lowered her onto the bed and the mattress dipped beneath her weight. He pulled back and turned on the little lamp that waited on the bedside table. “I want to see you,” Grayson told her.

And she wanted to savor every single moment with him.

Watching her, Grayson yanked off his shirt and tossed it aside. Her gaze raked greedily over him—he had a gorgeous body. Wide shoulders, strong chest, abs that rippled. More than a six pack.

She should be taking off her clothes, too. Shouldn’t she? Uh, yeah, you kind of have to do that. Jemma pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. She started to kick out of her boots…

“Let me,” Grayson said, voice a deep, dark temptation. He caught her left boot. Slid down the zipper. That low hiss seemed incredibly loud. He eased off her boot and her sock and his fingers slid along the edge of her calf, massaging her ever so gently.

Her fingers grabbed for the bed cover and she held it tight.

Grayson shifted his attention to her other boot. Another long, low hiss filled the air, and then that boot was on the floor. He took off her sock and once more, his fingers slid up her calf. She’d never thought calves were any kind of erogenous zone before. They were calves. But his strong, warm hands were gently kneading her muscles and her eyes were about to roll back in her head. “Gray!’

He let her leg fall. Grayson leaned over her and unhooked her jeans. Slid down that zipper and then he was tugging both her jeans and her panties over her legs. She didn’t even look to see where he dropped them. She didn’t care. Her gaze was locked completely on his face. On the desire that she could see so easily.

She only wore her bra. A plain black bra because she hadn’t known where this day would end. She wished she had on something sexy and tempting. Something to drive him wild.

“You are absolutely gorgeous.” His voice was rougher than normal and she liked that deep rumble.

He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her abdomen. She sucked in a sharp breath and her hold on that bedspread went even tighter.

And when he started to kiss his way down her body.

Her eyes squeezed closed. She hadn’t done this before. She’d wanted to—definitely, but…before the nightmare that had been Gage, she’d had one lover. A sweet boy who’d taught her about pleasure. Only they’d both been on the learn-as-you-go path. And they hadn’t gotten to this.

Then after Gage, well…

I won’t think of him. I won’t think of anything but Grayson right now.

Actually, she couldn’t think of anything else. Because his breath blew lightly on her skin and his hands were pushing her thighs apart. Her heart was racing so fast, that mad drumming filled her ears.

“If you want me to stop, at any time…” He looked up at her. “Just tell me.”

“I don’t want you to stop.” She really, really wanted him to keep going. Like, right then. Go, go, go.

And he did. He put his mouth on her. Stroked her with his lips and his tongue and her body arched up against him as she gasped out his name.

He pushed his finger into her—two fingers. Stretching her. Thrusting and withdrawing. All the while, he still used that wicked tongue. Way wicked. Skillful. Very skillful. He put his thumb on her clit. He stroked her harder.

And Jemma came against his mouth. A hard, body quivering explosion that rocked through her. Not some gentle blast or crest or pop of pleasure. A tidal wave.

Then he was pulling away. “No!” She wasn’t done. They weren’t done.

“Sweetheart, I’m just getting protection.”

She gave a quick nod. Good, yes. “Get that.” Fast.

He did. He was back in an instant, clothes totally gone, condom on and when he positioned his cock between her legs…

Time stopped, just for a moment. Their eyes met. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing. She could make out more of the emotions in his eyes. It wasn’t just desire, though he sure looked as if he’d like to eat her alive.

But…

Love?

He drove into her, thrust deep and they both moaned. She stopped fisting those covers and her hands locked around his shoulders. He drove into her again and again, and her legs wrapped around his hips.

Deeper. Harder.

So good.

They rolled across the bed. She was on top of him now. His hands were on her hips, urging her up and down and every glide of his long, thick cock in her body had Jemma panting even harder. Her orgasm was building again. Getting so close—