Rogue (Real #4)(53)

He growls deep in his chest and bends over. His tongue flicks over my clit, then into my sex, probing and pushing into me. My senses open like floodgates. The tip of his thumb goes inside my backside, deeper, stimulating little nerves I never even knew I had.

Shock resounds on my body as he plays with my ass, thumbing me as he uses his other hand to hold my hips down and control the angle of us, how close we are, how his lips pleasure my wet, aching sex, every sinew in my body craving him like nothing . . .

Him.

Him.

Him.

He lifts his head, his lips wet with me, and he’s the most beautiful living thing I’ve ever seen.

“I want to f*ck you bare,” he murmurs as he fiercely meets my gaze and slips two long fingers into my *, using them to part me. “No condom. Just you and me, Melanie.”

Feel him in me? Flesh to flesh? Nothing between us?

My throat hurts as waves of lava flow through me, and I nod hard. “I’ve always been safe . . .”

I see a flash of something dark and haunting in his eyes. “I’m not safe, princess, but I’m clean and I want you bare just as soon as I get a lab to prove it to you. Would any other form of birth control interfere with your antirejection medications?”

“I . . . no, Grey.”

“You sure?”

The genuine concern in his eyes only makes me need him all the more. “Yes! My doctor had once mentioned I could use a low-dose oral contraceptive if I needed to.”

His expression twists with some fierce determination, as if us doing this will mean some sort of commitment for us. I sense he needs to take me, to take me fiercely and in ways he’s never taken a girl before.

“Come here,” he says, grabbing me by the hair. “I want to kiss you hard, but f*ck you harder.” He slams his mouth down, and adds, into my mouth, “But first things first.”

Whimpering as our bodies grind naturally as we kiss, I run my hand up his face and slip my fingers into his soft, thick hair, and I hear myself whisper his name against his jaw. His body trembles with unleashed power. “Say it again.”

“Greyson.”

“Now go up on your knees and elbows,” he says in a roughened whisper.

Oh, god . . . it’s really happening.

Tremors seize my entire body. There is no man I would trust more to do this with. No man I’d ever really wanted to do this with. And I want him to take every part of me, f*ck every hole in me with his cock, his fingers, his tongue. He slips his fingers over my folds again, testing my * first, dragging the moisture up the crack of my buttocks.

“The wetter you are, the easier this is for me to thrust in.”

“I’m so hot. Grey, the way you looked at me when I was feeding you was foreplay enough.”

“Melanie, look at what you do to me.” He rubs the head of his enormous erection between my ass cheeks and presses the mounds together so I feel the friction. I feel every pulse in his long cock, how hard and throbbing he is. He uses the swollen head to spread my * juices up to my ass and teases me with them. I’m quivering on my elbows and knees. Quivering.

“Greyson . . .” I moan. The anticipation is killing me, the feel of him so close, but so far. The scent of him dizzying me, while my eyes can’t see him and feel starved.

“Shh, baby I want this more than you do,” he croons behind me as he strokes a hand down my spine, caressing every dent of my backbone. “I fantasize about it. I fantasize about doing this with you. To you.”

I hear the ripping sound of a condom and lick my lips, staring at the wall in front of me with blurry eyes, my body throbbing for his, my * thrumming jealously.

“Will it hurt me?” I breathe fast and shallow as he presses the crown lightly into the rosette of my backside.

“Maybe . . .” he taunts as he trails his long, blunt fingers up my spine again before seizing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back to whisper in my ear, “Or maybe not. With you and me, there are no givens. No rules. Just what we want. And I want every inch of you. I want what you’ve given no one. This f*ck is mine.” He sweeps a hand to squeeze my breasts, pinching the sensitive tips of my nipples. Arrows of pleasure singe me, both my * and the place I want him to penetrate clenching tight in response.

“Just take it, Grey,” I gasp.

His thick answering murmur feels like a caress to me. “You bet your ass I will, princess. You don’t tease a man about wanting a thick, long dick up your lovely, tight little butt without getting what you’re asking for. Loosen up now, I’m lubing up.”

I mew as he presses his thumb into me, and then . . . something thicker, so much larger, so much harder. Deliciously creamed up and pushing into me.

“Push back against me, baby, that’s it, f*ck that feels good, princess,” he cooes, softly, as he advances inch by inch, stroking a hand down my abdomen to caress my *.

“Oh god, Grey!” I scream, and I turn and bite down on my own arm, moaning as he stretches me so much it’s almost painful, but it’s too pleasurable to be painful and I like it too much, the way he does it slowly, the way he caresses my swollen sex to wet and prepare me, the way he leans over and starts to graze his teeth over my nape, primal, like a werewolf wanting to bite me.

I’ve never felt so full, so aroused, and so emotionally vulnerable. I’m panting to get the words out . . . “Please, Greyson. Move. Fuck me.”