Rogue (Real #4)(90)

He pulls out his finger and brushes my clit with my own wetness as he licks my chin, my jaw. “Yes?” he rasps. Asking you okay?

“Yes,” I gasp, caressing his cock. I brush my thumb over the drops of semen already on the tip. He’s tense above me and his chest vibrates with a delicious rumble as he turns his head and sets his hot lips on mine. Wet. Our mouths are wet and hungry and our breaths fast and eager. We’re both bare naked and he’s so perfect. His erection long, thick, pink. I hungrily bend over and grab the base and kiss the tip.

“Awww, hell, Melanie,” he rasps as I savor him and carefully suck.

He takes a ragged breath, pulls me up with a gentle fistful of hair, and says, “Come the f*ck here and let me put my cock where we both want it most.”

I press my nose to his throat and tremble knowing I’m going to feel him without a condom for the first time. “I want you.” I can barely get the words out, I’m so aroused. “You don’t know how I want you. I want this cock in me. This guy. This man. In me.”

Speaking my name in a gruff tone, he rolls to his back and pulls me down to his lap. I gasp when I feel him—hard and throbbing—at my entry. I spread my legs over him, lowering myself to his erection with a little rock of my hips and a gasp of excitement. He watches me with smoldering hazel-green eyes, and the LOOK, how I love the look.

I kiss the corner of his eyes and wrap my arms around his neck as the head of him stretches me. Another, deeper groan rumbles out of him and he clenches me in his arms and rolls me down onto my back, and when he rears up, he grabs my head with both his hands, f*cks his tongue into my mouth as he thrusts his hips and shoves his cock deep inside. A cry escapes my throat and my breath catches. He’s in me, to the hilt. God. Bare. I feel him pulsing inside me. The pleasure is so exquisite, my eyes roll into the back of my head. I make a gurgling sound as my body writhes for more, starved as never before. Greyson is thrusting me, all the while kissing me, and my body knots up on every breath-stealing, heart-stopping plunge.

He viciously nips at my throat, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Hold onto me,” he says, voice husky in my ear.

I groan, undone. He’s just as lost. Groaning too. Pushing. Pumping. Swiveling his hips. Claiming. Taking. “I need you,” he hisses, “So f*cking bad, I need you!”

I’m trying to keep up with him, clinging hard as my hips meet his in every movement, every frantic thrust. Over and over, like he’s trying to blend us into one. I’ve got both of my hands and my mouth all over his muscled body as I take in as much of him that I can, my fingers busy, my tongue busy, my hips rocking. Greyson Greyson Greyson, my heart is pounding his name. I shiver under the heat of his skin as he glides his scarred palm up my arm. He moans my name and rolls his tongue over my nipple, his mouth knowing and tasting me, fingers trailing and exploring my curves. My back arches. Head to toe, I throb and burn. I can’t believe the sounds we make in the dark. The way he feels. The way he smells. The way he wants me.

The passion in his eyes as he watches me. I suck on his earlobe. He shivers as I pull the ear and tug, and I whimper into his ear that I love him, I love him, I love him.

When I start to come, shockwave after shockwave hit me. With a soft cry, I tremble beneath him, feeling Greyson hold still and clutch me tight as he growls and jets off inside me. Warm. Wet. My king . . . filling me with him. It’s all so very yummy and so very intimate my eyes sting.

I quickly swipe at two runaway tears, and he murmurs my name, gently placing his thumbs over the corners of my eyes.

“Pinch me so I believe it’s really happening,” I suddenly whisper.

He kisses each of my eyelids instead and tenderly rubs the wetness dry with his thumbs. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I’m not ruining—”

I pinch his nipple ring. “Ouch! That’s not nice, Melanie,” he chastises, cupping my butt and giving me a light spank.

“Hmm. That was kind of nice,” I tease, and his smile fades and his eyes grow dark with renewed lust.

“It felt so good being inside you, baby. You feel me?” he huskily asks as he pulls me closer.

“Yes,” I breathe. My body hones in on the way he feels inside me, still as hard as before, and I swear I don’t want him to pull out.

As though thinking along the same lines, he pins my arms up over my head, and then he’s moving inside me again, murmuring slowly, tenderly, huskily as he makes love to me again. “Say you love it,” he cooes.

I moan and close my eyes. “God, you know I do.”

“Say you want it.”

“I do, I do.”

“Say it’s me, it’s always been me, say it, princess.”

“Always you, just you. You may be zero in your world . . . but you’re everything to me.”

Our bodies are straining and moving together, our chests rubbing and his piercing brushing against one of my breasts as he kisses me. And he kisses me until our mouths are swollen and red and our need and want and emotions have gnawed at us, and he’s mine, and I’m his.

Finally, the one for me.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


Thank you with all my love to my husband, my children, and my parents for their incredible patience, love, and support during all my processes—from creating, to writing, to editing, to endlessly, endlessly talking about “it.”