“Here,” I said. “Have a taste.”
I lifted a small strawberry to her lips and watched her take a bite. And the second she moaned, my dick jumped against her back. She took another bite, her lips grazing my fingertips before she licked the chocolate off them.
How hungry she was for what I had to offer.
My cock weeped with pride.
“Thirsty?” I asked.
“Yes, please,” she said.
I lifted the flute of champagne to her lips, kissing her neck while she enjoyed the bubbles that tickled her nose.
She nestled against me once she finished her flute of champagne, her lips glistening with the residue of alcohol on her skin. I bent down and kissed her, tasting her before-bed dessert upon her tongue. Her hand came up and threaded through my hair as she pressed deeper into me, sliding her soft, wet skin against my cock.
And I couldn’t contain myself any longer.
My hand slipped between her legs and parted her pussy folds. Our tongues dueled for control as my finger grazed along her clit. She jumped against me, moaning and responsive to every touch. Her hand curled into my thick head of hair as her lips swelled against mine, her ass pressing into my cock.
She was going to be the death of me.
I swirled my finger around her clit, feeling her legs spread for me. The water rocked and the bubbles coated our bodies as my lips kissed down her cheek. I nibbled on her neck and raked my teeth along her pulse point as she opened herself up to me. She gave herself over completely to me as obscenities fell from her lips.
“I love your fingers. Oh shit. So good. Let me cum, Gray. Please let me cum. Make me cum with your hand. I love it when that happens.”
Humming into her neck, I sucked a patch of skin until it was red and welted. I pressed my fingertips into her warm folds, feeling her bucking against me. I traced my pinky around her pulsing entrance and that was all it took. It was all Michelle needed to fall over the edge and press herself as hard as she could against me.
“Gray! Yes! I’m cumming, cumming, I’m cum—”
“Mmm, so good to me. Such a good girl, Michelle.”
She whimpered at my praise, her thighs trembling and her body locked against mine. She fell into the bath, sloshing water over the sides as I held her close to me. I smelled her scent fill the water around us. Her arousal blending with the bubbles and popping against my skin. Holy hell. Such a glorious woman I had in my arms.
But I needed more of her.
I needed all of her.
And I wouldn’t stop until I had it.
Chapter 22
Michelle
My back hit the silk sheets of the bed and the softness of the rose petals made me gasp. Grayson covered his lips with mine and threaded our hands together, then filled my body with his cock. He rocked against me, his eyes never once leaving mine. I felt probed. Exposed. Vulnerable in a way I’d never felt with a man before. My heart soared and my stomach rolled. I felt drunk on the desperate passion bleeding between the two of us. I reached up and captured Gray’s lips again, feeling him smile into me as I bucked my body against his.
“So beautiful to me,” I said with a whisper. “That’s what you are.”
His cock pulsed against my walls, cheering on my praise for him as he filled me in ways only he could.
The bed rocked with our movements and his body began to sweat. His muscles glistened for me as his hands held onto mine tightly. Our eyes never disconnected. Our lips kept reaching for one another. His hips snapped against mine in a comforting rhythm I’d come to associate with passion and desire and protection. I locked my legs around his waist. I dug my heels into his back. I felt every muscle twitch with the effort he used to bring me to such pleasurable heights.
“Gray,” I said. “I don’t want you to stop.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to, Michelle. Not even if the sun dropped out of the sky.”
His face fell to my neck and his body collapsed onto mine. He rocked against me, keeping a steady rhythm that poured my juices down my ass crack. I kissed his shoulder. Sucked on his skin. Did anything I could with my hands pinned above my head. He kissed down my breasts and suckled on my nipples, tracing my engorged peaks with his tongue. I arched into him. I pressed my curves into his divots. His hands slid down my arms, releasing me from my prison so he could feel more of me.
Blanket more of me.