He pushed Faith’s head upright and closed his fingers in her hair until she winced. “Are you ready to scream, Faith?”
Already panting, Faith licked the seam of her lips. And nodded.
Grant pulled out, engaged his glutes, and thrust. And his first free, rabid drive into Faith Nicholas was more glorious than his best fantasy. Smooth. Soft. Warm. Slick. And so fucking tight. Heaven. Absolute heaven.
Faith’s hips hit the wall. The head of Grant’s cock slammed Faith. And she cried out, half shock, half pleasure.
His second drive was euphoric, ending in another cry of pleasure from Faith along with a tight squeez
e of her pussy.
Grant put all of himself into his work, his mission, and this moment. Faith on display and at his mercy. Her perky tits rocking, her abdominal muscles flexing, his cock impaling her sweet pussy. Their bodies in perfect sync, striving for the same goal—mutual ultimate pleasure.
“Ah God, Grant—” Her fingernails dug into his forearms, and the sting added an edgy excitement. “Grant, fuck… So good.”
Sweat slipped down his temple. It felt amazing. This was great sex. The kind that worked up a sweat when you didn’t notice because it was so good, it hadn’t seemed like work at all.
Faith lifted to meet him, and Grant put more power behind his thrust until his balls stung with each hit. And fuck that was good. Everything about this was good.
He gritted his teeth and growled, picking up speed to satisfy Faith’s demands, which drove his own. Faster than he preferred. Damn woman. She fucked up his control.
“Oh my God… Oh my God…” She half laughed, half cried the words, arching, head dropped back, every muscle in her beautiful body stretched tight. A sight Grant wished he could memorize. “Ah, fuck, Gra—”
Her whole body convulsed. Her pussy cranked down on Grant’s cock so hard, his throat closed. His body broke, and his orgasm slammed through him like a lightning crack. He lost his balance and put out a hand to catch the wall, wrapping his other arm around Faith, and steadied them as they both floated back to baseline.
Once Grant’s muscles released the last orgasmic quake, they gave. Still, he reluctantly pulled from Faith’s body, making a mental note to take her to bed next time so they could both sink into a comfortable mattress after. Then set her down. She wasn’t any more stable, using the wall to keep herself up.
He wrapped the condom in a tissue from a box he’d pushed to the floor earlier and tossed it in the trash, then looked around at the mess he’d made. He scratched his head. “I’ll…clean this up in the morning.”
“Holy. Shit.” Her whisper drew Grant’s gaze back. She was scraping a hand through her hair and pulling it off her face. A face flushed and relaxed, with a look of awe and shock in her eyes.
He slipped his arm around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her neck. She pressed her cheek to his chest and ran her nails lightly up his side, sending tingles over his skin.
Warmth and affection swamped Grant out of nowhere. “I can’t remember the last time it’s been that good.”
She lifted her heavy-lidded gaze to his. “So it’s not just me?”
He smiled. “Oh, it’s you baby.” He kissed her. Softly. Slowly. And sighed. “It’s definitely you.”
8
“Baby,” Grant called from the ground, “this is a fantastic view of your perfect ass, but I gotta tell you, you’re freaking me out.”
She laughed and dropped her hand from the roof’s eave to press a hand to her stomach, aching from all the laughing she’d done with him today. And all the sexual gymnastics he’d put her through the night before. “Would you stop? I’m almost finished, and it’s getting dark.”
“You’re not almost finished,” he complained. “You still have the whole front, which includes three more gables. But you’re right about it getting dark. I swear my heart’s not going to make it through this. If you hurt yourself, you won’t be able to set up for the Winter—whatchamacallit.”
“Winter Wonderland,” she corrected him for the third time.
“I don’t care. Get your beautiful self down here. I’ll finish the rest.”
Grinning, she hooked the end of the light string to the corner of the gable, then twisted to look down at him. He was standing at the base of the ladder, holding it stable with one gloved hand, aiming the video camera at her with the other. He looked adorable all bundled up in his parka, a knit hat warming his head, his dark hair sneaking out from underneath the edges, and a few days of scruff darkening his jaw.
“You may have gotten away with telling me what to do last night,” she said, “but don’t expect that to continue during the day.”
He lowered the camera with a big, bright grin cutting across his face. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. And you’d better be able to dub over that tape like you promised or all this effort is going to be wasted.”