The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(15)

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasised about touching Lucy before. She’s a fucking hell-raiser for any man with a dick. I’ve lost count of the number of times she’s slept over after a night out, and I’ve woken up with my cock nestled in the line of her ass.

“We shouldn’t… Elliot.”

“You want me to stop, then you need to stop moaning my name,” I growl, using the tips of three fingers to motion over her clit in slow circles.

“We’re crossing a line. What if we fuck up this friendship?”

I tsk, and she whimpers as my palm connects with her pussy, a loud slap echoing around the restroom and momentarily reminding me where we are. “We fucked up our friendship the day we met, princess. It’s insulting to me that you think we are friends.”

Desperation takes over, and she begins to work herself on my fingers. Large ocean-like pools lift to fix on my own eyes, and I see the silent plea shining through—or maybe it’s a question, because the way her hips lift, higher and higher, bringing me dangerously close to slipping low enough to her entrance.

“Luce.” My jaw clenches and her face sparks with uncertainty, making me feel like a dick for building her up, then questioning her when she pushed.

On the next roll of her hips, I give her what she wants, and the bravo I showed moments before gets lost along with each finger she takes.

Should we be doing this?

Does this change anything?

Fuck, I don’t want to mess this up with her.

“Oh my god!”

“Shh.” I chuckle, feeling my shoulders loosen. “I really would love for the whole restaurant to hear you come for me, but I don’t think it’s what you want, is it?”

“God… no. Don’t stop. Please, Ell, just this one time, don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The tips of my fingers brush over the vibrating balls, and I focus my stare on her face, watching to see what she needs—what she likes.

“Does that feel good?”

Her head drops back, and I fight the urge to ravish her throat. “Yes! So good!”

“How about.” I push one of the balls against her pulsing wall, directly where her G-spot should be. “Here.”

“Oh my god, stop. No! It’s too much… I’m going to….”

I use my thumb to work her clit, swirling it around and around, then down and flat.

It drives her wild.

Her hips buck, her body growing heavier in my arms as her core erupts around me, clamping around my fingers like a vise.

“You might wanna cover your ears.” Her sated eyes capture mine, her jaw slack as her body comes down, rolling over my touch and trembling uncontrollably. “What I would give for you to be coming on my cock. You’re tight, Luce. Real fucking tight. Any man’s wet dream, yet it’s your cum that’s leaking down my wrist, the inside of your legs—they’re covered. You’d make the hottest fuck, princess.”

She rides it out, her back arched as soft whimpers escape delicately past her parted lips. I watch the moment she comes down and the panic and shame that creeps up her neck in a scarlet flush.

“Outta your head.” My forehead meets hers. Our eyes lock. “I just wanted to show you what happens when you break the mould, stepping outside your normal and throwing yourself into the unknown. Tell me, how did it feel to be so reckless? Coming in the middle of a restaurant because of your ‘friend’s’ touch.”

“We’re in a bathroom,” she mutters, sultry and sarcastic and still fucking sexy as hell.

I expose my teeth in an uncontrollable smile as our breaths mingle.

“Don’t overthink this.” I sober, gesturing between us as if what we just did didn’t mean shit, and it’s completely fucked up, but once I’ve said it, I realise it’s probably what she needs to hear. An out. She doesn’t need to try and make sense of this.

I slip the balls from her pussy, and she sucks in a sharp inhale as they pop out with a loud slurping sound.

I grin like a pubescent teen seeing porn for the first time.

“If we could do that again, I’d like to record it and set it as my morning alarm sound.”

“Stop!” She chuckles, pushing on my chest and covering her face.

Pocketing the balls, I step out of her space and watch as she slips past me and into a stall.

“Everyone’s going to know.”

I roll my eyes at her already racing thoughts. “No, they won’t. And if they do, what does it matter?”

Her head pops around the door, her brows pulled together in dramatic outrage. “It matters.”

She finishes up and moves to the vanity, fixing her already perfect hair and placing her hands over her pink cheeks to cool them down.

“My legs are like flipping jelly,” she complains, and it has my shoulders pulling back. “It normally wears off by now, but I feel like I can barely walk.”

I keep my mouth closed.

I don’t tell her what goes through my dirty fucking mind.

“What if someone questions us, we need to get our story straight.”

“Save the stories for the grandkids.”

“Can you be serious for five seconds!” She shakes her head, but her face tells me she’s amused.