Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
I missed this so damn much.
I pump my hand up and down his shaft as he growls into my mouth, his kiss growing more demanding, more dominating. We're spiraling out of control, but I don't care. I want this. Need this.
He yanks my blouse from my skirt, his rough hands skimming up my ribs to cup my breasts through my bra. I moan as he kneads them, rolling and pinching my nipples between his fingers until they're stiff peaks, aching for his tongue. For his teeth.
"Grayson," I whimper, my head falling back as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat. He sucks hard on my pulse point, and I know it's going to leave a mark, but I don't care. I want his mark right there again.
I've been so freaking lost without it.
His hands skim back down to grab my ass, lifting me up onto my father's desk. Office supplies clatter to the floor at his feet, but neither of us pays them any mind. All that matters is his body pressed to mine, his skin against mine.
"Is this what you need, baby? You need me all over you just like this?"
"Yes!"
He shoves my skirt up around my waist and hooks his fingers in my panties, dragging them down my legs. Cool air caresses my wet sex a second before his fingers are there, hot and insistent. I sob his name, already spiraling toward the edge.
"Fucking hell, Mina. You're so wet for me already," he rasps, rubbing tight circles over my clit.
I can only moan in response, rocking into his touch. I'm so damn desperate for it. Six years is a lifetime.
He teases my entrance and then thrusts two fingers deep inside me. I cry out, my head falling back in ecstasy.
"That's it," he croons. "Ride my fucking fingers, baby. Christ, you're gripping me so tight."
I whimper and writhe on his hand as he finger-fucks me hard and fast, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside that makes stars explode behind my eyes. My hand flies over his cock, twisting on every upstroke, my thumb swirling the leaking precum around his tip. I want to taste it so damn bad, want him hitting the back of my throat and growling like he always did. But I'm too far gone for that right now.
His jaw clenches, and his abs flex as he fights for control. "Look at me," he commands roughly.
My eyes fly open to meet his intense gaze. Lust and longing, pain and desperation swirl in their stormy depths, stealing my breath.
"I missed watching you fall apart on my fingers, missed hearing all those pretty little noises you make when you're about to come," he whispers. "I fucking missed you, Mina. Every goddamn thing about you."
"Grayson, please…" I moan, so close to the edge I can taste it. I don't want to think right now. I just want to feel. Thinking hurts. But this? This feels like heaven.
"Come for me. Now." He grinds the heel of his palm against my clit as he fucks me with his fingers, and I detonate, pleasure exploding through my body. My inner walls clench around him as I shake and quiver, sobbing his name.
"Fuck, just like that," he croons, his voice rough and gritty. "Soak my fucking hand, baby. Goddamn, you're so perfect."
His words, his touch, everything about him, sends me flying even higher. Through the haze of bliss, I feel his cock pulse in my hand, and then he's coming too, spurting hot and hard over my fingers.
"I love you forever," he groans. "God, I love you, Mina."
His confession is like ice water poured straight into my veins. I don't even have time to come down before reality body slams me to the ground. And it hurts. God, it hurts like hell.
I cry out, scrambling away from him.
"Baby." He reaches for me, confusion swirling through his eyes.
"Don't," I rasp, rapidly shaking my head as I stumble away from the desk. "Don't."
"Mina, dammit."
I pace several feet away, my heart pounding. "I can't believe I just… That shouldn't have…" I wrap my arms around myself, shivering uncontrollably. "You left me, Grayson," I whisper, turning to face him. "You left me."
"I didn't leave you." He reaches out, touching my cheek. And God help me, I want to lean into him, let him comfort me. I'm so damn weak for this man. "Please, let me explain."
"You already did that," I whisper. "It didn't help."
"I did a piss poor job of it. There's more I need to say. More you need to know."
He's probably right, but I'm afraid to hear it. I'm not ready to hear it. Not yet. Because one way or another, it's going to change everything. And I can't let that happen unless I know one thing first—the thing that just might break us beyond repair.