Page 101 of The KING Review
“I don’t care where we are. I just want you. Your hands on me, your eyes on me, your mind on me. That’s all I need. But if you take me to bed after and keep going, so much the better.”
His arms flex, locking me tight to his chest, and his mouth finds my neck. He kisses me there, open and desperate, then lower, breath hot against my collarbone, then up again, nipping my jaw.
“God, yes,” he rasps. “If it were up to me, you’d never leave my damn bed. I’d keep you there forever.”
I let my mouth ghost over his. “No objections here, Daddy.” The words are syrupy, slow, but my grin is mean. “Lock me up and throw away the key. Fuck, I’d love that.”
His eyes squeeze shut. “Don’t brat right now, angel. I thought this was supposed to be slow and sweet?”
He says that, but his cock pulses hard inside me, like he’s arguing with his own thesis.
A bark of laughter escapes me. “I don’t remember saying that.”
Grant’s laugh is a broken thing. I swallow it in a kiss.
I slide my hand down, fast, fingers spreading over my entrance, feeling the obscene stretch of him, thick and hot and slick with me. I rub my clit with two fingers, circling slowly, and the friction is so sweet I see stars.
When I pull them away, my fingers are shiny with slick. I bring them up to his mouth, painting his lips with the mess he’s making of me.
He blinks, drunk on it, and his mouth opens on instinct. God, he’s beautiful like this—all dark eyes and flushed cheeks. I want to ruin him. I want to see if he’ll let me do it.
I know he will.
“Come on, Daddy,” I whisper. “Be a good boy and suck.”
His tongue darts out, lapping at my fingertips, and I shiver at the sight. He sucks my fingers into his mouth, greedy, and his eyes lock on mine as his cheeks hollow. The sight of it makes my clit throb so hard I nearly come on the spot.
“That’s it,” I praise, rocking down on him. “You like how I taste, don’t you?”
He groans again, the sound vibrating up my hand. His beard scrapes my knuckles, and he sucks harder, like he’s starving for it.
“God, baby, look at you.” My voice goes liquid, words barely more than breath and air. “You look so fucking pretty with my pussy all over your mouth.”
He moans, and it goes straight between my thighs. I’m obsessed with the way he lets go, the way he lets me see him like this. All wrecked, all mine. I want to keep him like this forever.
I pull my fingers out, trailing them down his jaw, and he pants, lips shiny. I can’t help but lean in and kiss him, filthy and deep, tasting the tang of myself on his tongue.
If I could ride this feeling into battle, the world would probably be mine in a week.
Grant’s hands clamp at my hips, huge and hot, fingers digging in as he rocks up into me. The movement is hungry enough to border on desperate, lifting me and dropping me back down roughly.
“Thought we weren’t fucking,” I pant.
“It was you who said that, not me,” he grunts, and then his pace goes from indulgent to savage in a heartbeat.
A laugh skitters out of me, and Grant sets a rhythm, rough and relentless, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the quiet apartment. He brings a hand between us, fingers searching for my clit. When he finds it, he circles tight, relentless. The friction is slick and sliding, and I clench, the pleasure so high and hot it borders on pain, and I lean in, forehead pressed hard to his, desperate for something to anchor me.
He’s close, I can feel it—his cock swells inside me, his jaw flexes, and his breath stutters ragged against my throat. The sound he makes when he comes is almost a whimper, hands locking on my hips as he pulses deep inside me, flooding me with heat.
He buries his face in my neck, mouth open on my skin, and I feel his words as much as I hear them as he murmurs, “God, Neve Hart, I think I’m falling for you.”
Chapter Thirty
All the Old Scripts
Grant
I’m in my office grading papers when she knocks, and steps inside without waiting for a response—and I’m stupid enough to grin when she turns to lock the door behind her.
