The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(56)

Hooking a thumb into the waistband of his shorts, he drags them down with the phone held steady in his other hand. “How the fuck am I naked before you?”

I laugh lightly, pushing my hair over my shoulders. “You asked me stupid questions.”

His cock springs free, and I ravish my eyes over his manhood with no shame. My lips roll before I can catch myself, and I don’t fight the urge to lean in a little closer.

Jesus Christ.

He’s perfect.

I suck on my bottom lip until it throbs, my nipples pebbling. “Elliot—”

“Stop touching yourself,” he demands, cutting me off just like I did him.

“We’ll go around in circles if neither one of us can touch ourselves.” I remove my hand and place it on my thigh, just below my skirt.

“Fuck, I want you, Luce.”

I tilt my head back, smiling at the ceiling as his words urge me on. “You can touch yourself, but it won’t feel like me,” I tease, my voice low and purposefully sinful.

He gives me a guttural growl that makes my pussy clench and I feel a rush of pleasure at my centre.

“I’m dripping wet, Elliot. Make it feel like me. Sit up and spit on your dick. Make sure I can see.”

“I knew you were a filthy girl.”

He sits up.

His abs tense as he takes his cock in his hand, angling it so when he releases the spit from between his lips, it strings down and meets the thick head, coating his silky skin and running over his fist.

He gives himself a slow, lazy pull, then looks back up at the phone. His jaw hangs slack, his eyes only a couple shades off the bottom of the ocean.

And it’s that look in his eye that I was trying to hide from.

I swallow hard, unable to snap away from his demanding stare.

“You’re about to get fucked. You know that, right?”

My hands itch to move from my sides, to slide them over my stomach and under my skirt.

The way he studies me as if he’s learning something new every time his gaze catches mine makes me ache in places I never knew it was possible to ache.

“You look beautiful without all that makeup on, you know. Beautiful with it too, but I love to see the you that no one else does. The way your face heats.”

Dipping my head, I stare at the duvet that’s bunched around my squirming knees before lifting my eyes. He knows no boundaries, and he knows I love it. The things he says, the way he can make me nervous and red faced with the slip of his tongue.

“Tell me, were your cheeks that pink when I had my fingers snug inside that sweet little cunt of yours?”

My breathing gets heavy, my chest noticeably working.

“My bet is they were, but we weren’t like this. I couldn’t see you bare faced and fucked.” He licks at his lips, watching me like a hawk surveying his prey.

I look up at him through my lashes, begging him to give me an inch. “I can’t handle this. I need touch, Ell, but I want your hands. I want you.”

“You could handle it; I know you could. And I’m not there to touch you, princess, but know that if I was, it wouldn’t be my hands deep inside of you.”

“No?” I moan, my brow flinching as I rock forward on my toes, looking for friction that isn’t there.

“No, you’d be as you are now. Only my tongue would be cleaning up the sticky sweet mess between your legs. I’d have you work those hips over my mouth until you have nothing left to give me. I want you dripping down my throat, baby. Inside and out. And then and only then, if my need is satisfied, I’ll let you up.”

“I’m going to lose.”

“You’re going to lose,” he rasps out in agreement, giving himself another pump. “Take off your skirt.”

I do as I’m told, sliding from the bed as quick as I can to pull off the garment.

I unbutton my silk shirt, letting it hang open, then I climb back onto the bed, angling my hips to the side in an attempt to keep my modesty.

“Luce.”

I look up, dragging my hand deliberately up my thigh. My sensitive flesh heats as if the tips of my fingers are sheathed in seared embers.

“You’ll show me. You’ll show me it all.”

My nipples glide over the silk that scarcely covers them as my back bows and my lips part. I suck in a rush of air as if his words have a pull. And they undoubtedly do.

I want to show him everything.

The good.

And the bad.

And me.

“Look at me.”

I open my eyes. “It’s not your turn.”

“Then why are you doing what I say?”

When I don’t say a word, he continues. “Take your fingers in your mouth. Make them wet for me, and then I want you to spread your knees wide and touch yourself.”

No man has ever been this way with me. It’s like he knows what I need and how to command my pleasure with his words.

Then again, I’ve never been this way with a man.

Maybe our friendship has laid a bed of trust beneath our feet, so when we completely cross the line, it’s with knowing.

A little cautiousness.

Unbound desire.

A different level entirely.

I wet my fingers, drawing them past my lips just like I did with the balls.

“Good girl. Now spread your pussy and show me how you do you.”