Page 37 of The Wayward Sons & the Seattle Sirens

Fuck, I hated the words as I said them. From the look on his face, he did too. His mouth opened but promptly shut, anger fusing with a multitude of emotions.

He crossed the room in quick strides and dragged my mouth to his in a desperate kiss that left me breathless. His fingers anchored in my hair, and I grabbed him around the waist to hold him close.

“You don’t get to fuckin’ leave me, baby,” Gray murmured against my lips. “Not unless you really fuckin’ want to, and even then I’m chasin’ after you.”

His determination solidified in every cell of my being. The man meant it. I kissed him again because I didn’t know what the hell else to say. My body fucking hurt and I was exhausted, but I let myself get lost in him.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like you takin’ risks,” he continued, diffusing with every kiss. “We ain’t’ ever goin’ to agree on that, baby.”

“I know.” My temper waned with his despite knowing this was one fucking fight neither of us would ever win. We were too stubborn for that shit.

I kissed him harder, my tongue sliding against his. Desire and love slipped right past the anger and frustration. My head clouded with the intensity of his emotions. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, groaning as my muscles protested.

“Easy, baby,” he crooned. His lips drifted down my neck, hitting every spot guaranteed to make my dick stand at attention. “Let me take care of you.”

“You don’t—”

“I know I don’t got to do a damn thing,” Gray interrupted. His fingers teased the waistline of my jeans as he nudged me back toward the bed. “All I’m askin’ is for you to sit back and relax.”

It was hard to say no to a request like that.

“Fuck.” I drew in a sharp breath as his hand massaged my thickening cock through my pants. My head tipped back as he ran his tongue up the line of my neck.

“Hands up, baby,” he ordered. That curve in his smirk was devious as he stared at me. Damn man was toying with me over giving me instructions. On any other day, I would’ve pushed back and drawn it out, but I didn’t have it in me. When I did as he asked, he said, “Good boy.”

Jesus fuck, that was a big fucking no.

“No.” I shook my head the minute it was off. “That doesn’t work for me.”

“Well, that’s a damn shame,” he teased. His fingers curled around the back of my neck as his lips gently brushed against the bruising across my throat. The softness of his kiss sparked against my skin, making me shudder. “I got you.”

I gave in and let him take the lead. His boots, my pants, everything else he wore. All of it ended up on the motel floor as we climbed into bed—my head on a pillow, Gray’s body covering mine.

“Tell me where it hurts, baby,” he said against my collarbone. Where didn’t it fucking hurt? That was the better question. Hell, even my ego and my confidence were busted up after taking that beating.

“Lower,” I muttered.

His mouth skated down my sternum. I moaned as his fingers lightly brushed over the bruises on my ribs.

“Lower…”

His lips drifted over the bruises, following the path his fingers paved.

“Keep going,” I said softly. My eyes shut as his tongue trailed over my abs, setting my already sensitive nerves on fire. When his fist wrapped around my cock, I tensed. “Fuck.”

Yeah, I was hurting, but I was a glutton for the pain when my dick got involved.

“Lower,” I let out. I flexed while his tongue followed the dip in my hip bone. So damn close but not quite.

“If you want me to suck your dick, you just got to say somethin’, baby.” Gray chuckled, his hand running over my length in a single pump. Fucking torture.

“I’d prefer you to ride my dick.”

“I ain’t goin’ to break you.”

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