He flipped me again so I was on my back with one of his legs nudging mine apart. He returned his attentions to my breasts, laving and sucking on one as his hand worked the other, kneading and playing with it. While he was so focused, so intent on his every move, I was lost, my brain turning to mush as my body became slick with sweat, my muscles tense one moment and slack the next.
“Gray, I—”
“Shh,” he soothed, his tongue licking over the nipple he’d just lightly bit. “I’m not done with you, not even close.”
Slowly, he worked his way down my body and his fingers came to rest at the rolled waistband of the boxers. As his fingers curled and pulled the fabric down, I once again surfaced from the fog of desire. God, he was going to see all of me and I self-consciously turned a hip, but his forearms wouldn’t allow me to shift away. Perhaps sensing my hesitation, he tugged the boxers down my thighs and then off all the way, then paused.
I could feel his breath warm on my skin and I tilted my chin to glance down my naked body at him. His shoulders had spread my legs wide, his head only inches from my center. His head was angled down and he stared at me…there.
“Baby.” The sound was a mixture of joy and undiluted lust. He looked up at me darkly as he slowly, very gently stroked one finger over me. I startled. “Your pussy’s bare.”
I flopped back, my head angling back as his finger slipped up and down the line of my sex. “Yeah,” I muttered breathlessly.
“It’s a good thing I didn’t know before now. I would have taken you on your kitchen counter. Hell, I would have taken you on the rugby field.”
It seemed ridiculous to have a conversation about that part of me, but I'd thought he’d be shocked by finding me completely waxed, but not in this way. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I looked down at him. It was quite a sight with his head between my thighs. “You like it…I mean, I did it because…”
“Why, Em?” His finger parted my folds and began sliding over the slick flesh.
“I…I found a gray hair,” I admitted, feeling grouchy, slapping a hand over my eyes. My cheeks heated and not from desire. “It was my mid-life crisis moment.”
He laughed and I spread my fingers enough to see that he was grinning wickedly. “Are there any more?” he asked, playfully.
“No,” I said sourly. Finding a gray hair there was a solid symbol that I was no longer young and so I’d fought and rebelled by having it all waxed off and kept it that way.
He kissed the inside of my thigh and I softened once again. “I think I’m going to have to find out for myself.” When he set about to do just that, my mouth fell open in stunned surprise.
“What are you, I mean, you’re going to, oh my God!”
My head flopped back on the bed and I bent my knees and dug my heels into the mattress as Gray put his mouth on me as he slipped a finger inside. I easily relented to his actions. Not that I could do anything but feel when he had his free hand on my lower belly, holding me firmly in place.
“Let go, baby,” he murmured sometime later when he’d gotten me to the point of panting and thrashing and begging. His voice was deeper, darker than I ever remembered hearing it. “I’ll catch you.”
I knew he would, for he already had. It was easy to give in to the pleasure he was drawing from my body. With one expert flick of his tongue, I came on a scream. I’d only come while having sex with Jack when I touched myself; he’d never been able to do it. I couldn’t say now it was entirely his fault because I’d never truly l
et go like I did in this moment with Gray. I’d always felt less than beautiful, that I was lacking in some way, that he hadn’t ever really wanted me, yet he felt obligated and stuck with me.
With Gray I didn’t feel like he was with me out of obligation. He wanted me on a level I never knew existed, for I felt the same. When he looked at me, touched me, pleasured me, it was because he wanted it as much as I did. And so I gripped the sheets and held on as his relentless assault had me battered and bashed by the never-ending wave of pleasure.
God, the man was good. As the feelings ebbed, he slipped his finger free, kissed the inside of my thigh, then came up over me. Through his boxers, I felt him nudge at my entrance as he looked at me, his gaze raking over my face, perhaps to ensure that I was all right. Why he was concerned when he’d just given me the best orgasm of my life was a mystery.
“Don’t move.”
As if I could even lift my head.
He pushed himself off me and grabbed his pants off the floor, pulled a condom from the pocket. Pushing his boxers over his hips, I got my first glimpse of him. Naked.
My eyes widened. He was everything I'd imagined and more. His body was perfect, lean and muscled and ripped and gorgeous. His hips were narrow and his cock, holy hell. It was big and long and thick and fluid seeped from the blunt tip and the whole thing was pointed straight at me.
I licked my lips at the sight. I wanted to reach out and touch him, wondering how hard and hot he’d feel in my palm, but he was busy rolling on the condom. Taking a step toward the bed, he looked me over, every inch of my nakedness. There was nothing left between us now, we were exposed, all our flaws, our weaknesses couldn’t be hidden behind barriers or clothes or even emotions. I felt open on the inside as well, ready to let Gray in.
Kneeling on the bed, he traced his fingers along my calf, up over my knee and along my thigh as he settled himself so that his cock pressed against me. Instead of shoving himself in, he put a hand by my head and tilted my chin up with the other. Our breaths mingled, our eyes met and held.
“Emory,” he replied, his voice rough. “I need you.”
My heart swelled and burst, flooding me with emotion, with feeling, with need. I needed him in me, on me, with me. It was as if I had been without for so long that now I wanted it all.
Lifting a hand, I cupped his jaw, felt the rasp of his whiskers against my palm. In just a few days, my whole life, my entire world changed and I never wanted to go back. “Where have you been all this time?” I whispered.