Strong and Steady

“Why, Em?” His finger parted my folds and began sliding over the slick flesh. I was really wet.

“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 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 and 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 having sex with Jack when I touched myself; he’d never been able to get me off. I couldn’t say now it was entirely his fault because I’d never truly let go like I did in this moment with Gray. I’d always felt less than beautiful, that I was lacking in some way, that Jack 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, and 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, a compass pointing true north.

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, wondered.

He lowered his head, kissing me gently, softly, tenderly, as he shifted his hips, nestling his cock at my entrance, then sliding into my wet heat. “Waiting for you.?

??

18

GRAY

* * *

Waiting for you.

I hadn’t realized the depth of those words, the truth behind them until I was balls deep inside Emory. The feel of her slick heat surrounding me, squeezing me in tiny pulses, was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I’d wanted to be in this exact place ever since I glimpsed her from across the bar as she chatted with the bartender at the engagement party. She was fresh air and sunshine and light and brightness, and she'd directed it all right on me. The attraction, the chemistry between us was explosive, but it was more than that. It was some kind of connection that went bone deep, soul deep that I knew I would never be able to escape. I didn’t want to.

I had been waiting for her. Everything in my life had been a build up until she arrived. I’d been going through the motions, punching and kicking my way to this moment when I could have her. She was giving herself to me, and that was precious. As I looked down into her wide eyes, the passion and surprise there only ratcheted up my desire for her. I loved how she sounded when she came, how her inner walls had clenched down on my finger, how she’d tasted so fucking sweet. How she’d just… let go. It was as if she fell into my arms, and I nudged her into that bliss. That sound had had me almost coming in my boxers. I’d wanted inside her with a desperation, like an addict needed a drug. I had to have her.

Now, her walls clenched down as if trying to pull me in deeper, as if she wanted more. Perhaps she did. She shifted her hips slightly, adjusting. Carefully, I pulled back as I watched her closely. Her eyes went blurry, her chin tilted as she arched her back. When her hips rose to meet me, I plunged deep.

We both groaned. The pleasure, the feel of her, rocked my world. I couldn’t hold back, I couldn’t hold still any longer, and so I began to move. Her hands tightened on my waist, slid over my ass, gripping it and pulling me into her as if she couldn’t get enough. I lowered my head and kissed her, her breasts pressing into my chest, the friction of my movement making the tips harden.