“I do,” I murmur, my heart pounding behind my ribs. How could he be more perfect?
“Then, let's act on our promises tonight.”
Hesitation wraps me up in its palm for the briefest second as I think of us having sex after all the shitty things we’ve discovered.
I press my lips into a hard line, brows knitting. “Grant, do you think we should? I mean, with us talking about April and—”
He intertwines our fingers and pushes the backs of my hands into the leather seat. “They’re not coming back to us, darling, and I don’t intend to sweep over my living emotions for a dead person. That’s lunacy. You’re here. You’re alive, and I want you. God, how I want you.”
He’s right—no one is returning from the dead. It’s strictly the two of us, and all we can do is try to rebuild from the rubble we were left with.
Lonnie and all.
I nod, fighting to push the idea of Lonnie away at such a time, and focus on what’s about to happen.
Warm hands slowly drag under the fabric of my gown, their pace sure and determined, not stopping until he reaches the tops of my thighs. I roll my spine off the leather with the bruising touch that’s infused with perfection.
“I care about you. Care about you so fucking much it hurts not to be a part of you.”
“I care about you too, Grant.” Grief weighs down my words, as Lonnie crosses my mind one more time. “I’m sorry you have to teach me anything at all, and I’m sorry about Lonnie being a problem.”
“Stop apologizing. We all have something that haunts us, my sweet. Something that needs to be killed.” He fights the tightness of the dress and more threads snap. “I’ll help you say goodbye to him. Will it out of my own blood if I have to.”
The airconditioned environment snakes through the new hole in my dress, and I tremble with need, knowing Grant has no qualms ripping my clothes off. More of the black silk shreds apart as he rests his knee down between my legs. The weight of his body tugs downward, causing the threading at the waist to tear, and I whimper at how beautifully primitive this feels—to be taken by a man like Grant who only unravels to me.
“Those sounds are mine, Olivia.” His large knee nestles against my wetness. The desperate groan he riles from the back of my throat gives him a cause to growl in approval. “More than that, this heart of yours—” He places his hand over my chest, and it thumps hard to his touch. “All mine. All fucking mine.”
His words strike right at my door to all my safeguards, knocking some of my fears to the ground, and for just a moment, I believe he’s enough. That Grant can be the fighter I need against Lonnie and that we were put together for a reason. Tears form in the outer corners of my eyes.
A reply of gratitude rests on my tongue, but it’s stolen away as his mouth seals over mine in a deep, unbreakable kiss. We groan in unison, our sounds mingling together in a beautiful oneness that works down into my soul.
My ears barely comprehend the dragging of Grant’s zipper to his tux trousers, but I’m fully aware of the sight of his cock as he works all his lower garments to strain around his thighs.
I pant at the sight—of this knowledge that the most powerful man in Seattle is stripping out of his clothes while his limo rolls through the town … and that he’s mine.
After yanking the tight hem of my dress to my thighs, he slams his length into me with a growl working from the back of his throat. My eyes roll into the back of my head, while a blinding white flash blurs my vision. Like all the times before, his girth stings my walls, and the depth is nearly too much. But a motion in and out transforms the fragments of pain into twitching pleasure. It volleys from my drenched opening straight to my scalp.
“Holy fucking shit. Amazing.” More fabric tears away, as Grant rears back and then reenters. Fullness expands in my walls with him pushing his hips forward, and I groan, accepting him. “I know what it feels like for me,” he pants. “But what does it feel like for you?”
“Me?” Slowly, my lids peel open, and a smoke takes over my vocal chords as I glance down to see his cock plunged inside of me. He looks so good there. “You mean how high do I get off your cock? How does it feel thinking I’ll never be able to take all of you, but then smile at the sear because it feels so amazing?”
He nods, teeth gritted so hard that the flesh at his jowls is pale. “Fucking—” He tosses his head back. “Liv.”
I’m desperate to writhe at the sudden swelling of his dick. He’s never been this hard or firm. Somehow, I tamp the desire away, slamming myself down, almost impossibly deep so that I’m cursing with fresh waves of sweat beading at my neck.
“God damn.” He falls forward, catching the brunt of his weight on his palms. “You take my cock so fucking good.” A tremor picks his triceps as he shoves in even more.
“Shi—” I claw at the leather, whimpering when I find nothing to grasp.
“Dig into me,” he grunts. “I don’t care if you scratch until I bleed, just fucking let go with me.”
My hands fly to his body so fast it takes the pristine article folding under my fingers for me to realize I’m tearing at his shirt. “I love how you fill me.”
“Jesus—” I’m expecting a mind-bending thrust. Instead, he stills, and our eyes meet for a flash. His blue to my green. What passes runs thicker than any words we can exchange.
My body understands I’ll be raw and sore before the night is through. My mind knows I’ll be cock drunk and fucked silly halfway through. My heart, on the other hand, perceives its ruin.
After tonight, no one is going to be able to fill me like this. Understand me in the wordless moments. Fuck the fears and nightmares right out of me. No one will touch this ceiling. They won’t even get off the bottom floor.
I wonder if it’s the same for him.
A hard swallow makes me think his bowtie is going to pop apart, then all he grumbles is, “Hang on.”
I’m clinging to his arms, but it seems futile at the power of the first slam he serves.
My scream, which should be loud, nearly shattering the glass, seems dulled, thanks to Grant’s praise.
“Fuck yes. So, so good, my sweet.”
It’s the last thing he says. The power of his voice staggers, faltering completely as he begins to pump in and out of me at a speed that barely allows me to catch my breath. My tits bounce out of the low front of my dress from the repetitive ramming.
He grips them, one in each hand, molding the breasts perfectly to his touch. They empower Grant, allowing him to penetrate me deeper as he uses them to tug my lower body in tighter.
My nails dig into his arms deeply, crescent shapes forming in Grant’s muscled flesh as he moves his finger, and pinches my nipples. He rolls until a pleasurable spasm lashes at the nerves underneath. I buck wildly against him as he lowers his head and sinks his teeth into the left one, his name tearing from the back of my throat.
“If you’re going to scream my name like that, you better come for me,” he says, right before biting the right tit.
“Oh!” My eyes squeeze so tightly shut that the lids hurt, and blue orbs flicker behind my vision. I reach a crest and crash in a mind-blowing orgasm that sends my toes curling back. Wetness gushes from in-between my thighs, coating the leather beneath me, soaking Grant’s Armani trousers in the process, and it if wasn’t for his laugh, I might be embarrassed if not shocked.
He chuckles, dark and sweet, pressing a light kiss to my hairline. “Oh, my love. That’s beautiful.”
He continues the brutal pace. Our bodies sliding together, our position no longer secure, thanks to my orgasm. It drives Grant to a frenzy. His fingers jump to my scalp. That strong grip curls into my roots as I sense him tilt his head back and chase his release.