Grant pressed a kiss to her throat, then murmured at her ear, “Let go of my hand and grip the edge of the table.”
She obeyed.
“Next time you touch me without permission,” he rasped, “I’m pulling out and taking all this pleasure with me.”
No, no, no. She closed her eyes and swallowed, preparing herself to be patient.
But Grant started moving again. Moving inside her. Deep, deep inside her. Strokes, shallow thrusts, and pressure. Lots of pressure. The kind of pressure that made her want to move and beg. The kind that made her insane.
“I want…to come…” The words fell from her mouth.
“You’re so impatient. We’re going to have to work on that.” He pulled from her body, and she felt so empty. But then he was back, pushing in with what felt like two fingers, bringing more pressure.
“Fuck, yes. Oh God…” He did something that made her burn and ache and crave.
“You like that?” he murmured, thrusting deep and slow with thicker penetration.
“Yes, yes, yes.” She moaned and cried out and whimpered her pleasure. “Yes, yes, so good.”
“You’re tight, baby.” He pushed, then circled, stretching her body until she burned while rubbing places that made her want to scream. “You’re gonna clamp down on me like a vise, I’ll lose it on my first plunge.” Another moment of excruciating torture, and he murmured, “Okay, baby, give me some juice.”
He stepped back, bent, and pressed his mouth to her silk-covered clit. The shock of it vanished when the warmth of his mouth overwhelmed her sex. She released the table to grab his head, but realized what she was doing and slapped her hand down on the wood again.
Grant pulled back enough to stroke the throbbing, silk-trapped flesh with his tongue. Back and forth. Back and forth. She cried out and bowed. The touch was whisper soft and warm, shocking her body with shards of intense pleasure and flooding her sex with languid heat. While ins
ide her, he continued to do something that created a delicious pressure that kept rising and growing and intensifying. The way he watched her moan and writhe, knowing she was helpless to do anything but absorb his assault, taking what he gave, the way he gave it, added a dark, edgy intensity to the thrill, and nearly drove Faith out of her skin.
“Please, please, please…” She panted, openly begging. “Oh God…please Grant…”
Instead of licking her clit, he dragged his teeth over the silk. Bursts of electric pleasure stabbed her sex and made her whole body jerk. Then he came back with slow, smooth, warm pressure from his tongue, and Faith bowed backward, dropping her head, letting her mouth fall open on a moan. Grant rewarded her with a long moan that vibrated over her sex.
He repeated the scrape. The lick. The moan.
Faith’s fingers were numb on the table’s edge.
Scrape.
Lick.
Moan.
“Fuck…” Her entire body trembled with the need for climax.
Scrape.
Lick.
Growl.
“Grant—” She opened her eyes, lowered her head, and found his eyes on her.
She watched his mouth move over her in the scrape.
She flinched, trembled…
His tongue stroked her, slowly. But this time, with his eyes locked on hers, he continued to lave her in a lazy, hot back and forth. And he pushed deeper with his fingers. Did something that created more pressure.
A sound of surprise ebbed from her throat as she rose to the edge. Grant used his free hand to spread her sex and took her silk-covered clit between his lips, sucking and licking. Sucking and licking.