Rogue
Page 31He sucks my cl*t into his mouth and I groan in delirium. “Oh god.”
“God can’t help you, baby, but I can.” He blows air over my cl*t in the most seductive way. “I want to kiss this sweet cunt, taste it, suck it.” He takes it lightly between his teeth, then gently sucks me. Fire courses through my veins as he spreads his hands open on my thighs and opens my pu**y lips wider for his tongue.
“Greyson . . .” I cry as pleasure bursts through my veins, my body spread open for his kiss, my hands fisting on the sheets.
It feels somehow like he’s rewarding me because I cooked for him. But also like he’s claiming something from me. Like he’s claiming me. Every inch of me. When his thumb penetrates there again, I’m thoughtless, only groaning and mewing and whimpering and pleading, my h*ps jerking upward and backward.
“Are you ready for this, Melanie?” His eyes are dilated, but sharp and assessing as he studies me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and grind out, “Yes, please!”
He growls deep in his chest and bends over. His tongue flicks over my clit, then into my sex, probing and pushing into me. My senses open like floodgates. The tip of his thumb goes inside my backside, deeper, stimulating little nerves I never even knew I had.
Shock resounds on my body as he plays with my ass, thumbing me as he uses his other hand to hold my h*ps down and control the angle of us, how close we are, how his lips pleasure my wet, aching sex, every sinew in my body craving him like nothing . . .
Him.
Him.
Him.
He lifts his head, his lips wet with me, and he’s the most beautiful living thing I’ve ever seen.
“I want to f**k you bare,” he murmurs as he fiercely meets my gaze and slips two long fingers into my pu**y, using them to part me. “No condom. Just you and me, Melanie.”
Feel him in me? Flesh to flesh? Nothing between us?
My throat hurts as waves of lava flow through me, and I nod hard. “I’ve always been safe . . .”
I see a flash of something dark and haunting in his eyes. “I’m not safe, princess, but I’m clean and I want you bare just as soon as I get a lab to prove it to you. Would any other form of birth control interfere with your antirejection medications?”
“You sure?”
The genuine concern in his eyes only makes me need him all the more. “Yes! My doctor had once mentioned I could use a low-dose oral contraceptive if I needed to.”
His expression twists with some fierce determination, as if us doing this will mean some sort of commitment for us. I sense he needs to take me, to take me fiercely and in ways he’s never taken a girl before.
“Come here,” he says, grabbing me by the hair. “I want to kiss you hard, but f**k you harder.” He slams his mouth down, and adds, into my mouth, “But first things first.”
Whimpering as our bodies grind naturally as we kiss, I run my hand up his face and slip my fingers into his soft, thick hair, and I hear myself whisper his name against his jaw. His body trembles with unleashed power. “Say it again.”
“Greyson.”
“Now go up on your knees and elbows,” he says in a roughened whisper.
Oh, god . . . it’s really happening.
Tremors seize my entire body. There is no man I would trust more to do this with. No man I’d ever really wanted to do this with. And I want him to take every part of me, f**k every hole in me with his cock, his fingers, his tongue. He slips his fingers over my folds again, testing my pu**y first, dragging the moisture up the crack of my bu**ocks.
“The wetter you are, the easier this is for me to thrust in.”
“I’m so hot. Grey, the way you looked at me when I was feeding you was foreplay enough.”
“Melanie, look at what you do to me.” He rubs the head of his enormous erection between my ass cheeks and presses the mounds together so I feel the friction. I feel every pulse in his long cock, how hard and throbbing he is. He uses the swollen head to spread my pu**y juices up to my ass and teases me with them. I’m quivering on my elbows and knees. Quivering.
“Greyson . . .” I moan. The anticipation is killing me, the feel of him so close, but so far. The scent of him dizzying me, while my eyes can’t see him and feel starved.
“Shh, baby I want this more than you do,” he croons behind me as he strokes a hand down my spine, caressing every dent of my backbone. “I fantasize about it. I fantasize about doing this with you. To you.”
I hear the ripping sound of a condom and lick my lips, staring at the wall in front of me with blurry eyes, my body throbbing for his, my pu**y thrumming jealously.
“Maybe . . .” he taunts as he trails his long, blunt fingers up my spine again before seizing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back to whisper in my ear, “Or maybe not. With you and me, there are no givens. No rules. Just what we want. And I want every inch of you. I want what you’ve given no one. This f**k is mine.” He sweeps a hand to squeeze my br**sts, pinching the sensitive tips of my ni**les. Arrows of pleasure singe me, both my pu**y and the place I want him to penetrate clenching tight in response.
“Just take it, Grey,” I gasp.
His thick answering murmur feels like a caress to me. “You bet your ass I will, princess. You don’t tease a man about wanting a thick, long dick up your lovely, tight little butt without getting what you’re asking for. Loosen up now, I’m lubing up.”
I mew as he presses his thumb into me, and then . . . something thicker, so much larger, so much harder. Deliciously creamed up and pushing into me.
“Push back against me, baby, that’s it, f**k that feels good, princess,” he cooes, softly, as he advances inch by inch, stroking a hand down my abdomen to caress my pu**y.
“Oh god, Grey!” I scream, and I turn and bite down on my own arm, moaning as he stretches me so much it’s almost painful, but it’s too pleasurable to be painful and I like it too much, the way he does it slowly, the way he caresses my swollen sex to wet and prepare me, the way he leans over and starts to graze his teeth over my nape, primal, like a werewolf wanting to bite me.
I’ve never felt so full, so aroused, and so emotionally vulnerable. I’m panting to get the words out . . . “Please, Greyson. Move. Fuck me.”
He grabs my h*ps and eases out, and he says something that shoots a new heat like a lightning bolt through me. “As you wish.”
As you wish.
My favorite movie; and he knows it.
The words, in that movie, mean so much when Westley whispers them. He whispers them right now as I give him my only fantasy.
By the time he starts up a slow, careful rhythm, I’m emotionally unwound and physically unraveling. Tears stream down my face, of pleasure, happiness, and the complete barrage of sensations he fills me with.
There’s a bang on the door, and my body tightens and quivers in reaction, shaking and waiting as I hold myself utterly still. He keeps his pace and remains thrusting, pulsing in me when he stays inside, easing in and out with improved ease every time. His hands tremble on my hips, and I can feel both our bodies straining, our breaths jerking out of our lungs.
“Hey, Romeo, will you answer your goddamn phone!”
Whoever is shouting outside the door is yelling L-O-U-D.
“Hey, ROMEO!”
Greyson rubs my pu**y, breathing hard in my ear, whispering, “I’m not answering Derek until you come. I’m not pulling out of you until you twist and thrash, right now, in orgasm. Now what do you say when I tell you to come, Melanie?”
I moan as his sexy voice spills through my body, the pleasure so absolute I can’t breathe, think—I can only feel taken and plowed and full and his.
“I don’t know,” I moan.
“What do you say to me, princess?”
He rocks his h*ps again, gently, as he circles my cl*t in delicious rubbing circles with two fingers, and I sob As you wish and when I turn my head and he French-kisses my mouth, slow and headily, I come, harder than ever, every piece of me shattering, body, mind, soul, heart, crying softly as I feel him jerk powerfully inside me. He clenches one arm around my waist and pins me to his body, exhaling hard as he comes with me.
When it’s over, we don’t move.
The pillow is wet and I’m quietly sobbing. Greyson pulses, alive, inside me, and I don’t want to lose him. Still in me. Pulsing in the most delicious way. Still somehow hard. I groan when he pulls out and rolls to his back, reaching out to grab my face, searches for any hint of discomfort on my face.
“These tears. Good or bad? Good or bad, baby?”
“Good,” I croak, rubbing my cheek dry with his palm. “Was it good for you too?”
“God, good’s not even a word for it,” he says tenderly, then he takes the rest of my tears with his lips, his eyes all liquid as he kisses my nose, my mouth, in some quiet male gratitude over what I just let him do to me. Over what we did, together.
I’m shaking a little, and he murmurs, “Stay here, princess.” He stands to get rid of the condom and clean up, then he comes back and pulls me against him, brushing my hair behind my ears, his big body cradling mine. “That live up to how you imagined it would be?”