Page 19 of Giving Grace

She leans forward, her hips shifting under my hands, her breath catching in her throat when her hard, swollen nipples brush against my chest. Her hands planting themselves in the pillow at either side of my head. Suddenly her face is inches from mine, her mouth so close I can feel the soft, uneven push of her breath against my skin.

“Make me come, Ryan.” She whispers it, her lips skimming against mine with every word. “Please, make me come. I don’t care how.”

Thirteen

Grace

I’ll be embarrassed later.

Probably even mortified that I said it out loud. That I got naked and put myself in Ryan’s bed. That I climbed on top of him and asked him to make me come.

Asked is the wrong word.

I’m not asking him to do anything.

I’m begging him to do it.

But right now, I’m too desperate to be ashamed.

Later? You should be ashamed right fucking now because he doesn’t want to want you, Grace—remember?

“It’s okay,” I breathe out on a shaky laugh. “It’s okay, Ryan. I’ll just—”

Behind me, Ryan digs his heels into the bed, using his hands to push himself into a sitting position, his back pressed against the headboard of the bed. The move brings us face to face again, forces me to sit up too, returning me to my original position, straddling his waist. I feel him lean away from me and a few seconds later, the lamp clicks on, its soft glow illuminating his face.

We’ve been here before.

This is where he tells me to get away from him.

To get dressed and leave.

This is where he pushes me away.

Only he doesn’t.

“I already told you, Grace.” The callused palm of his hand slides up the length of my spine while the other one anchors itself under my ass, lifts me off his lap and onto my knees. “I don’t want you to leave.” The hand on my back reaches up to tangle itself in my hair, angling my head back so he can pin his dark, heavy-lidded gaze to mine. The hand on my ass slips between my legs, its wide, blunt-tipped fingers skimming along the inside of my thigh. “What I want is for you to say it again.”

“I…” I stall out, my mouth hanging open like I can’t track the question. What he wants from me. Because I can’t. I can’t think straight because Ryan is watching me. His hands are on me. In my hair, the pull of it causing tingling warmth to shoot down my spine, drawing a direct, humming line of sensation from his fist to my pussy. “I want you.”

“It’s not enough,” he tells me, the tips of his fingers skimming the slick, swollen seam of my pussy. The heat between my thighs begins to pulsate. His mouth hovering, brushing against mine, every time I take breath. “You have to say it.”

He’s right. I have to say it. Because this isn’t like anything that’s happened between us so far. This isn’t an impulsive kiss in the front seat of my car. A fast, hot orgasm against the door of his hospital room. Both happened so quickly I didn’t have much time to think about either one until after they were over. No time to wonder if I’d regret it later. No time to weigh the consequences of what happens after.

There is nothing impulsive about the way Ryan is touching me now. Nothing rash. This is intentional. It’s real and once it’s done, it won’t be ignored and it won’t be forgotten.

Not by either of us.

Because what happens next will either bind us together or break us apart.

“Come.” I lean into him, closing the space between us to skim my lips against his. “Please make me come.”

“Fuuuck,” he groans it, the curse pushed against my mouth while he teases my entrance with the rough pad of his middle finger, pushing into me with the tip of it until I whimper softly in response. Start to sink. Try to impale myself on the broad, blunt length of it.

The hand in my hair unclenches, his wide palm sliding down my back to dig its fingers into my ass, hard enough to make me gasp, stopping me in my track. “I didn’t get to look at you last time.” He presses a soft kiss against the side of my neck. Another one to my cheekbone. “I was in such a fucking hurry to get my hands on you...” He wraps his arm around my waist, anchoring me in place while the hand between my thighs starts to move again. “Get inside you…” The tip of his finger slides up the slick, swollen seam of my pussy until it’s pressed against my clit, swirling and teasing, until I’m half-crazy. Moaning softly with sweep and pulse of his fingers against me until I want to scream. “Ryan, please—”

That’s as far as I get before his mouth crashes into mine. Claims it with a hot, languid sweep of his tongue, licking and swirling inside my mouth until my arms are flung around his neck, and I’m clinging to him for dear life because I’m dying. I’m drowning and Ryan has no intention of saving me.

Breaking the kiss off on a low groan that sounds like my name, he nips and licks his way down my jawline. “Look at me, Grace…” he says, dipping his head to give the corner of my slightly parted lips a brush with his own, silently urging me to raise my eyes to his.

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