Play It Safe(44)

My belly didn’t drop with that. It flipped.

“In my life, I haven’t made a lot of connections,” I told him softly and the grin can back.

“You’re connected now, baby.”

I was. I definitely was. In a lot of ways.

All of them good.

I returned his grin.

His hand left my face, slid down my shoulder, arm, in between us and down.

“Wrap your legs around my hips, Ivey. I’m gonna take care of you so you can take me,” he ordered gently, my whole body trembled and his grin turned into a smile.

“My girl likes that,” he whispered.

“Yes,” I whispered back.

His thumb hit the spot, pressed in and rolled.

My eyes closed and my neck slightly arched.

“And my girl likes that,” he growled.

“Yes,” I breathed.

He kept pressing and rolling, I held on tight. He kept doing it, I held on tighter, lifted my face and shoved it in his neck. He kept doing it and started moving inside me slowly.

Oh yes.

That felt really good.

My head turned and I gasped in his ear, “Gray.”

He stopped.

My limbs clutched him and I gasped again, “Don’t stop!”

He kept going.

And going, thumb swirling.

Oh yes.

Yes.

“Gray,” I breathed in his ear.

“Right here, Ivey,” he whispered in mine.

Right there, as right there as he could be.

Instinctively, I lifted my hips, rocking them up with each of his strokes.

When I did this, Gray groaned, his strokes went deeper then they started going faster, harder, his finger pressing and rolling.

Yes.

More, faster, harder, deeper, I held on tight.

Yes. That felt really, really good.

“Gray,” I gasped.

“Right here, baby.”

“Oh my God,” I breathed then there it was.

My head flew back into the pillows, my fingers plunged into his hair and fisted, I cried out then moaned loud then just felt it, lips parted, no breath, experiencing the beauty as it washed over me.

Better than in the haystack.

Better than anything in the world.

The best.

When my body relaxed under him, his thumb left me and his hand pulled one of my arms from around him. His fingers lacing through mine, he lifted our hands and pressed them in the pillow beside my head. Lifting up on his other forearm that he was bracing his weight on in the bed, that hand slid up and his fingers tangled in my hair as his head came up, his eyes locking on mine and he kept thrusting.

I kept rocking my h*ps and taking him, digging my heels into him to do it, watching him moving inside me and he was so beautiful, it was arguably better than what he’d just given me.

Then he drove deep, his fingers laced through mine tightened, his other hand fisted in my hair, pulling my head slightly to the side and his face disappeared in my neck where he groaned against my skin.

I liked that. The sound, the feel, it was beautiful.

Okay, no.

That was better.

He stayed buried inside me and I held him close to me until his breath came to almost even and his mouth started nuzzling my neck, his fingers never unlacing from mine.

And there it was.

A week and a day ago I was a girl who owned a bag of stuff and not much of it was good.

And now, I was lying in a huge, masculine bed, on soft, dark sheets, wrapped around the most beautiful man I’d ever seen and I was a girl who had everything.

And at that thought, it came right out of my mouth.

“How can one day you have next to nothing and then a week and a day later you have everything?”

Gray’s head came up, my eyes went to his and it was there, that tender look as he lifted the hand he held, twisted it and brushed his lips against my knuckles.

That was so sweet, seeing him do it, feeling his lips, my heart skipped a beat.

Then he let my hand go, his came back to my face, his thumb moving out and gliding along my lip as he answered, “Don’t know, dollface, but feels good doesn’t it?”

Oh my.

He felt the same.

“Yeah,” I whispered against the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

Then his thumb swept away and he replaced it with his lips.

I thought I had everything a moment before but just like Gray, wrapped around him, still connected to him, his mouth on mine, he gave me more.

Chapter Fifteen

King of Mustang

Two hours later…

Gray was wearing nothing but jeans. He was lying on his back in his bed, four pillows cushioning his head, shoulders against the headboard. He had a plate on his stomach that had a jumble of crackers, slices of cheese, a cut up apple and a handful of store bought cookies. On his nightstand were two freshly opened bottles of beer.

Lunch.

I was wearing my panties and his dress shirt, four buttons done up. I was lying on my side at his side, one of my legs thrown over one of his, my head in my hand, my elbow in the bed.

I had lazed in Gray’s huge, awesome bed while he did the taxing work of walking downstairs, cutting some slices of cheese and apple, dumping out some crackers and cookies and grabbing a couple of cold ones then walking it back up.

So he was right in what he told Grandma Miriam. He could feed himself and his girl.