Please, God, don’t let me fucking blow my load like a teenage boy. I pray silently but don’t dare stop my movements, adding another finger and thrusting them slowly as her breathing starts to pick up. She bucks her hips into my hand twice, tearing her mouth away from mine and throwing her head back, panting. My lips trail up the curve of her neck and around her jawline until reaching her earlobe.
“You feel so fucking good, Grace. I want to see you come for me.” My thumb presses into her clit once more as I scissor my fingers. Her body tightens, and in a split second, she cries out, my name on her lips escaping in a strangled murmur.
The heat of her pussy gripping my fingers, the feel of her slickness against my hand, and the sound of my name is too much. My balls tighten, and warm liquid starts to slide down my dick. I press harder into her side to try to stop the eruption at the pit of my stomach.
I still, taking deep breaths, and lift up, my eyes locking with hers. She gives me a shy smile, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen. Her eyes are glossy and a deeper violet than I’ve ever seen. At this moment, she’s more breathtaking than ever.
“Fucking perfect.”
“Nick,” she breathes out, her voice raspy.
I reluctantly remove my hand and use my knee to push myself up, bringing her with me until I’m sitting and she’s straddling my lap. My hands wrap around the back of her head, fingers flexing in her hair. She leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed.
I stare at her for a few seconds, caressing her scalp and taking the time to regain my control. As much as I want her, tonight is not the night. There’s something I want to do first, and unfortunately, that requires a little more time.
I kiss the underside of her jaw then squeeze her tightly, taking both our weight as I stand. When I get to the door of her bedroom, I gently place her on her feet and frame her face.
“I’m going to get my bag out of my truck and lock up, but I’ll be back in a few minutes. Get ready and I’ll meet you in bed.
Her eyes crinkle in confusion.
“Trust me on this. There’s nothing more I want to do right now than to tear this dress off you, throw you on the bed, and run my tongue over every inch of your skin. My whole body is on fucking fire for you. I’ve never wanted anything as badly in my life as I do right now.” I tilt my hips, hitting her stomach and flexing my still hard cock into her. “Feel what you do to me? This is all you, Grace, but I’m using every ounce of restraint to wait.”
“Why?” Her voice is small and laced with doubt. Disappointment shows on her face.
Any other time, with any other woman, I’d have them under me in less than two minutes, not really caring about more than a few hours of fun. But not with Grace. This is so much more. I knew that the second I saw her again.
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s wrong.”
“But if you want me, why are you holding back?” It’s obvious the question makes her uncomfortable, and I think about what an ass I’m making out of myself.
“Because you mean something to me.”
“Isn’t that good? You mean something to me, too.”
“That didn’t come out right. You mean more than something to me. This is where the trust me part comes in.”
The words hang in the air, and I hold my breath, watching her process them. Finally, she stretches up and brushes her lips across mine.
“I trust you, Nick.” There’s a flash of sincerity that quickly turns into a wicked gleam. One of her hands moves between us and scales down my abs, stopping at my belt, where I’m still bulging in my pants. Her fingers draw a large circle around my groin, purposely pressing against my head. The touch is light but still one of the most erotic things I’ve ever felt. My stomach rolls, the familiar need for release from earlier returning. I clutch her hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing her fingertips.
“Sweet Peach, get ready for bed.”
I back away and adjust myself as I go to my truck. A memory from last year pops into my head. I’m finally beginning to see exactly what Shaw was trying to explain to me.
I’m never going to survive. Or, should I say, my poor dick is never going to survive. It twitches against my stomach, aching as Grace unknowingly grinds her hip into my groin. She’s sprawled halfway across my body, her hair covering my shoulder, her arm across my chest, and her warm breath coating the skin on my throat.
The slickness of her nightgown continues to torment me, just as it’s done all night. Knowing the material is the only thing separating me from the silky smoothness of her skin against mine is its own form of torture. I’m a man who can appreciate the allure of a woman’s lingerie—the silk, the satin, the lace… the way it hugs curves and teases a man to the edge.
But Grace Monroe in this nightgown has the ability to drive me to the brink of madness.
I try to think about dirty, sweaty, nasty men filing into the locker room and the stench after a brutal day of practice. Anything to mask the desire searing through my body. It starts to work, until Grace hitches her knee and it grazes my balls. The ache increases.
I should scoot out from under her, go to the bathroom, and take care of this once and for all. Jerking off to the thought of her in bed begins to sound better and better. I fondly remember the way my name sounded coming from her mouth as I watched her come undone for me. Then the mess I faced when I got ready for bed.
As I feared, I may have escaped a full explosion, but the sight and feel of her were too much. It was a first for me, coming in my pants. I cringe at the thought, but my dick comes completely alive, twitching over and over.
Yep, I’m going to the bathroom now. It’s the only way.