“Fuck,” he groaned. “I hate these dresses.”
“Me too.” I breathed.
“I miss my dirty nun.” Shivers slid up and down like melted ice at the desperation in his voice. “It was so much easier to fuck you in them.” He spun me around, pressing me hard against his cock, and jammed his hand down the front of my dress, grasping my tit.
I gasped, holding his neck for balance, head falling back.
“Ah, well…” He massaged my breast, tweaked my nipple. “This is okay too.” I heard as much as I felt the grin in his voice when his teeth found my neck—the underside of my jaw, my ear, my everything.
“Tell me a secret, Snitch,” he growled against my flesh.
I tried to think of something I hadn’t told him as his bruising touch drove my brain to mush. The only secret was Lottie’s, and it felt…wrong to spill that. That secret wasn’t mine.
“I have.”
His growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating against my back.
His touch turned punishing, twisting my nipple until I arched up on a breath. Hand to my stomach, he pressed me back against his cock.
Prisoner.
“Tell me your words. They’re mine, right?”
I nodded eagerly.
“All your fucking words, Snitch,” he gritted, a harsh snarl. “Give them to me.” He bit my ear, dragging it out.
“I have,” I gasped.
Everything froze, teeth mid-bite.
He shoved me off and I stumbled forward.
I don’t know what I did wrong, but something happened. Grayson sat back on the windowsill, dragging his hands through his hair as the fireworks started to go off.
“Grayson?”
He ignored me, massaging his hands through his rose gold hair like he was working the solution to a problem he couldn’t figure out. The fireworks illumined his silhouette.
I said his name again, and again, as I moved closer to him. It fell on deaf ears.
So I dropped to my knees.
His hands froze in his hair and he looked down at me. Dark. Suspicious. So much emotion in those blue eyes that I couldn’t read.
I dragged my hands up and down his thighs. “Can I suck your cock?”
He groaned at that.
I undid his pants, and he didn’t stop me. I was mesmerized by every coiled inch of him. The deep muscled V pointing down to his cock, all the vining veins.
He was so hard. Purpled.
Wet.
Like me.
I feathered my touch along his cock and Gray threw his arm over his eyes, growling and arching his hips off the window and into my touch.