608 Alpha Avenue (Cherry Falls)

I kick off my shoes and then I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the side. “Lose your shirt too.”

“I’m the boss here, woman.”

“That’s cute.” I unfasten my bra and let it fall down my arms. His eyes drop to my hardened nipples. “Lose the shirt, Gray.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he complies. Inch by inch, his body is revealed.

Dear, sweet heavens.

My fingers fumble with the buttons of my shorts as I gaze longingly at his body. His abs are outlined into neat squares. His chest is packed with muscle. His shoulders—my goodness, his shoulders—are thick and muscled and run from the side of his neck down to the bend of his arm.

Tattoos dot his tanned skin. I don’t have time to inventory them because his hands are on me, finishing the work of ridding me of my shorts.

Our movements become frantic. His hands sweep across my skin, the calloused palms scratching at my legs. As he tosses my shorts into the heap of discarded clothes to the side, his mouth finds mine.

I moan into his mouth, running my hands across his body. Every dip and cut of his hard-as-steel frame makes me hotter.

And wetter.

He bends down, not breaking our frenzied kiss, and grabs me just under my ass. I gasp into his mouth and grip his shoulders to keep from falling as he carries me toward the swing.

Our breathing becomes hurried pants. My fingers fly in his silky black hair as my naked body presses against his. It’s surreal and indecent and so mind-blowingly sexy.

His kisses sweep across my face and back to my lips again as if he can’t possibly get enough.

He sits me gently on the swing. The wooden plank is smooth as my bare ass scoots to the edge.

“Spread your legs,” Grayson says, making no apologies for taking in every inch of my body.

It feels powerful to watch him want me. To know that this man, this alpha male, is taken with me—even if it’s only for this moment in time.

I grip the ropes on either side of me and separate my thighs. He drops to the ground in front of me.

“Oh, my gosh,” I moan as he grips my legs and pulls them farther apart. “Grayson.”

He dips his head but pauses, looking up at me. The picture of his face framed by my bare legs makes me shiver.

“You know what I said about being ninety-nine percent sure that no one would find us?” He grins. “I lied. It’s about sixty-five.”

“What?” I bark, but he silences me with his mouth.

I gasp as every sensation becomes heightened. More. Too much.

His beard scratches my skin as his tongue licks up my slit. My body trembles as it tries to process the feelings and the situation.

I release the rope with one hand and lace my fingers through his hair. He parts my body with his tongue, taking his time as he laps up my wetness.

“Oh, my fuck,” I hiss, my eyes rolling in the back of my head.

I lean back on the swing, extending my legs out to the sides to allow him more room. He inserts one finger inside me, and I threaten to crumple.

“Grayson,” I moan as he leisurely works his finger in and out of my opening.

I have literally never been this wet before. I can hear it.

Shit.

Holy freaking shit.

His eyes find mine as he presses kisses along the hypersensitive skin of my thighs.

“You,” he says, pressing a kiss near my swollen clit, “are so fucking ready for me. Do you know how hot that is?”

“No,” I eek out.

He presses a kiss to my clit, and I yelp.

He grins. “Very.”

“Good to know,” I mutter, grabbing both ropes again.

“Hold on tight. I’m going to make you come in my mouth, and you’re going to want to scream, but don’t. If you scream, I’ll stop.”

My body flexes at his words. Every bit of blood in my body pours to my vagina, making it red-hot and engorged.

I need relief. And I need it now.

“If you don’t start,” I tell him, “I’m going to—shit!”

The contact of his lips to my pussy is enough to make me nearly scream. He bites gently on my clit as a warning.

“Oh, like that’s going to help,” I moan, my head falling back. I quickly raise it again so I don’t pass out.

“Keep quiet,” he warns as he works his fingers again, adding another.

“Keep going.”

He laughs against me as he rolls my swollen bud around with his tongue. He swirls it around and around, his fingers strumming a beat that works me higher and higher toward the brink.

My eyes roll back in my head, and my vision gets hazy. The rhythm of Grayson’s assault on my body becomes nearly too much.

“Grayson,” I pant, the word almost a whine. “Grayson …”