I do, wide enough that I feel the strain in the tendons between my thighs.

Still he doesn’t touch me, which drives up my need. I want him to so badly now that I bite the inside of my lip, arch my back just a bit to entice him with my breasts.

That bastard simply gives me an evil look. “You’re dying for it, aren’t you?”

“No,” I whisper. A lie.

He knows it. The corner of his mouth curls as his hand drifts to his belt.

Short of breath and aching, I watch him slowly unfasten his belt, the metal buckle clinking in the silence. He doesn’t unzip immediately but runs the heel of his hand down the significant bulge of his erection.

I have to clench my fists so I don’t reach out and cup him.

The hiss of his zipper lowering buzzes in my ears. I only have eyes for his hand, reaching in to pull out that beautiful cock. Long, hard, thick, a bead of precome glistening on the wide head. I know how smooth his skin is. I know his taste. How well he’ll fill me.

“Do you want this?” he asks.

“I’m a good girl,” I whisper.

He wraps his fingers around his wide base, his eyes on me. “Let me put it in you. See how it feels.”

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“I don’t know…” I trail off, biting my lip. Pretending that I won’t scream if he doesn’t fuck me soon.

He steps between my legs, and gives his cock a stroke as if he needs that small relief. The sight has my sex clenching. Licking his lower lip, he guides himself to my opening.

“Just the tip, sweetheart.” He nudges against me, slipping along my wetness, as I whimper. His voice goes dark. “Just for a second.”

That thick crown pushes inside. I’m so worked up with lust, I begin to moan and wiggle, ripples of heat running along my body. He shudders, his cock sinking further, stretching me, invading as he groans out, “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna need more.”

Like that, I’m coming around his hard cock as he glides in, deeper, deeper, until fully seated. The orgasm quakes through me so hard and fast that I arch back, my inner walls squeezing him tight.

“Jesus,” he says, holding on to my neck. “Jesus.”

Somehow, I manage to lift my head, catch his eye. He’s no longer Not Gray, but my Gray, looking at me as if I’m beautiful, as if I’m his world. I don’t want to pretend anymore. Maybe he sees the knowledge in my eyes, because he gives me a look that’s part pain, part helpless want. Deep inside me, his cock pulses.

I draw in a breath, touch his cheek. “Gray.”

That’s all he needs. With an impatient sound, he hauls me close, bringing us chest-to-chest, mouth-to-mouth. He kisses me, no longer detached but pure Gray, sweet and seductive and just a little dirty.

“Ivy. Honey.” He fucks like he’s savoring me, holding my upper body against his so that the only movement is his cock pushing in and out. A steady pounding, so good and raw that I shiver.

“More,” I whisper before finding his mouth again.

Without pause, he grabs my ass and backs us up until he’s leaning against the wall. My legs wrap around his waist, and he lifts me with ease, steadily works me up and down his swollen cock. I can only hold on, feel his muscles shift, and the stretch of him inside me.

“Ivy.” He kisses me quick, needy. “I’m close.”

He thrusts up, moving his hips in a little circle, the pressure hitting my swollen clit just right, and my sex clenches, pleasure licking up my thighs, over my skin.

I suck in a breath, my lips coasting over his. “Finish it.”

My ass hits the counter. I’m pinned, spread wide for him as he takes what he needs. He’s beautiful to me like this, his brows drawn tight, his lips parted as if he can’t get enough air.

Our eyes meet, and I’m the one who can’t breathe. Everything seems to pause. There is only Gray, his gaze wide and clear, his cock lodged deep as though it’s found home.

My body tightens like a fist, my heart so tender it hurts. I feel him everywhere, draw in his scent and heat. But it’s that look, as though there will never, ever be anything more important to him than me, that does me in.

This time my orgasm is an almost painful roll of pleasure. Crushing my lips to his shoulder to keep quiet, I cling to him and let go. And he follows me, his mouth on my neck, his fingers digging into my thighs.

He comes with a quiet shudder that wracks his whole body. All the tension leaves him on a sigh.

We’re still for several breaths, then he pulls out and sets me on my feet before tucking himself back into his pants and doing them up. My skirt flutters down as I reach for him. I hold him close, stroke his hair, my face pressed into the warm hollow of his neck. He smells of sex and sweat and whiskey.

I can’t stop kissing his silky skin. “Thank you.”

Gray runs his hands down my back. “For what?”

“You gave me my fantasy.”

“Not a hardship, honey.” Slowly, he kisses his way up my neck, scattering fine shivers in his wake. “In fact, that now rates as one of my top fantasies too.”

I tilt my head to the side to give him better access. “You were good. Maybe you should consider acting.”

His laugh is a snort against my neck. “It wasn’t an act. I meant every word I said.”

I hadn’t meant a single one of my protests. But my body’s response had been real and so intense, I still feel pleasurable little aftershocks. I adore Gray for that, for making me feel safe to play. For wanting to do that with me in the first place.

“I haven’t forgotten about yours, you know,” I say against his temple.




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