Worth the Risk(53)

Wet clothes become frustrating as we pull and shimmy and yank them off, our thirst for each other’s skin so much more important than the barriers between us.

The minute we’re naked, we’re back in each other’s arms again. No time to admire the other. No need to when the desire is already at a fever pitch from what feels like weeks of foreplay bringing us to the crescendo of this moment.

We bump into a wall and laugh.

“Bedroom,” he says.

I stumble some as he moves me backward, his hand squeezing my ass and the feel of his dick, rock-hard and ready for me is enough of a distraction that I forget how to make my way through my own house.

“We need a bed. Now.”

I slide my hand down his chest and abdomen, needing to feel him. My fingers circle around his cock; my palm strokes him ever so gently as my lips and tongue toy with his. His hands tense. His groan grows louder. His body stills as his mouth breaks from mine, and his head falls back as if to welcome the sensation.

He’s incredible to look at. The broad shoulders and tapered waist. The strong thighs and the definition of his abs. The bump of his Adam’s apple and the tendons straining in his neck. The girth of his shaft and how it bounces in reaction as I use my hands to please him.

As desperate as I am to have him, I take my time because there’s something intoxicating about watching the way he reacts to my touch. I spread the precum over his tip and work the length of him again, over and over until his hands grip my arms and every part of him begins to tense.

I’m doing this to him.

I’m making him hard.

I’m making him groan my name.

“Christ, woman. You are going to be my undoing.” The second he utters the words, he yanks my hand away from him and crashes his mouth to mine. It’s a take-no-prisoners kiss that has me digging my fingernails into his shoulders and losing all sense of my surroundings.

When the backs of my legs hit my bed, we tumble onto it, and the full desirous assault begins anew.

His lips are on my breast.

His hands slip between my thighs, fingers whispering over flesh begging to be parted, touched, pleased.

My mouth parts. My moan fills the room.

His teeth tug gently on my nipple. Bites of pain followed by licks of pleasure make every part of me ache with that slow burn of desire that urges him to rush and begs him to take his time.

My back arches.

The heated breath of his chuckle touches my skin, leaving warmth even after the sound has faded. Chills chase the adrenaline that courses through my veins.

His fingers run the line of my sex and find my clit. Electricity sparks against my every nerve as he adds friction with his touch. Harder. Faster.

Come on. Writhe. Come on. Buck. Come on. Bow.

His chuckle is in my ear. “Not yet, Princess. Not without me in you.”

I groan in frustration and then sigh in ecstasy at the onslaught of sensations when Grayson slides his finger down my seam and circles my entrance. My thighs widen.

“Christ, Sidney.” The groan that follows as he slips a finger into me is probably the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. Not that I can think about it long because he starts fucking me with his finger. Over and over. He adds a second and curves them within so they hit every hot button he needs to which has me spiraling again. Then a third finger.

His biceps bulge and flex with each plunge in and pull out. His gaze switches back and forth between my eyes and where his hand works its magic. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he adds a rub over my clit with his thumb on each withdrawal.

My eyes close as I slip beneath the veil of bliss, the surge beginning to build. Bit by bit. The pleasure. The friction. The slide. Each one brings a new wash of ecstasy.

It’s almost too fast, too intense, and I don’t try to control it as my orgasm slams into me without any restraint. My fingernails dig into his forearms as I beg him to keep going and silently wanting him to draw this out as long as he can. I can’t decide which I want more, and he doesn’t let me as he runs his tongue up the line of my neck to my ear. My breath shudders, and my heart pounds as my body slowly recovers from the onslaught of pleasure.

“I don’t have any protection,” he murmurs into my ear.

“Top drawer,” I say as I let my body come down from the high.

The bed dips. The foil rips.

“Sidney.” His hands are on my thighs, his legs beneath them.

I chuckle. “I’m out of breath, and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

“It’s good, all right,” he murmurs as he runs the tip of his cock up and down my slit, coating it with my arousal. It’s almost too much to bear on my hypersensitive flesh. “That I can promise you.”

“You’re a cocky bastard.” One that looks like a damn Adonis.

“You have no idea.”

And with that one phrase, he thrusts into me. I cry out in shock. In pleasure. From every sensation under the sun that feels like white lightning and molten lava rolling through my body all at the same time. He starts slow, a barely-there rock of his hips, a tease and a question and an invitation for me to move with him. As we fall into the rhythm, he picks up the pace. Thrust after thrust. Claim after claim. Pleasure after pleasure.

A squeeze of his hand on my thighs.

Right there.

A shift of my hips up.

Oh God.

The slap of his skin against mine as he bottoms out inside me, his crest rubbing over my bundle of nerves within.