Page 71 of Cockpit
My mouth parts. My moan fills the room.
His teeth tug gently on my nipple. Bites of pain followed by licks of pleasure make every part of me ache with that slow burn of desire that urges him to rush and begs him to take his time.
My back arches.
The heated breath of his chuckle touches my skin, leaving warmth even after the sound has faded. Chills chase the adrenaline that courses through my veins.
His fingers run the line of my sex and find my clit. Electricity sparks against my every nerve as he adds friction with his touch. Harder. Faster.
Come on. Writhe. Come on. Buck. Come on. Bow.
His chuckle is in my ear. “Not yet, Princess. Not without me in you.”
I groan in frustration and then sigh in ecstasy at the onslaught of sensations when Grayson slides his finger down my seam and circles my entrance. My thighs widen.
“Christ, Sidney.” The groan that follows as he slips a finger into me is probably the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. Not that I can think about it long because he starts fucking me with his finger. Over and over. He adds a second and curves them within so they hit every hot button he needs to which has me spiraling again. Then a third finger.
His biceps bulge and flex with each plunge in and pull out. His gaze switches back and forth between my eyes and where his hand works its magic. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he adds a rub over my clit with his thumb on each withdrawal.
My eyes close as I slip beneath the veil of bliss, the surge beginning to build. Bit by bit. The pleasure. The friction. The slide. Each one brings a new wash of ecstasy.
It’s almost too fast, too intense, and I don’t try to control it as my orgasm slams into me without any restraint. My fingernails dig into his forearms as I beg him to keep going and silently wanting him to draw this out as long as he can. I can’t decide which I want more, and he doesn’t let me as he runs his tongue up the line of my neck to my ear. My breath shudders, and my heart pounds as my body slowly recovers from the onslaught of pleasure.
“I don’t have any protection,” he murmurs into my ear.
“Top drawer,” I say as I let my body come down from the high.
The bed dips. The foil rips.
“Sidney.” His hands are on my thighs, his legs beneath them.
I chuckle. “I’m out of breath, and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
“It’s good, all right,” he murmurs as he runs the tip of his cock up and down my slit, coating it with my arousal. It’s almost too much to bear on my hypersensitive flesh. “That I can promise you.”
“You’re a cocky bastard.” One that looks like a damn Adonis.
“You have no idea.”
And with that one phrase, he thrusts into me. I cry out in shock. In pleasure. From every sensation under the sun that feels like white lightning and molten lava rolling through my body all at the same time. He starts slow, a barely-there rock of his hips, a tease and a question and an invitation for me to move with him. As we fall into the rhythm, he picks up the pace. Thrust after thrust. Claim after claim. Pleasure after pleasure.
A squeeze of his hand on my thighs.
Right there.
A shift of my hips up.
Oh God.
The slap of his skin against mine as he bottoms out inside me, his crest rubbing over my bundle of nerves within.
Grayson.
A grind of his hips. A slow withdraw inch by glorious inch, allowing me to feel every single sensation he evokes from me.
I’m gonna come.
And then another orgasm slams into me. This time, a little stronger. This time, in a different way. While the last one was high heat and a sharp punch of arousal, this one is like a rolling wave of bliss. It surges and ebbs so right when I remember to breathe, it comes back again stronger than the wave before. My thighs are locked around his hips, my hands fisted in the sheets as he rocks his hips into mine and lets me ride it out.
