Page 134 of Saving Grace

“Anything?” My heart flings, giving my ribs a beating.

“Say the word, captain.”

I drag his mouth down into a kiss. He claims me. Tongue over mine, tangling together. I break away as fire courses through my veins, sucking in a breath. “Then, I want you. The unrestrained, raw Mackinlay. The version of you who takes what he wants.”

I do. Nothing turns me on more than seeing him feral for me. His rough hands working my body. Pushing my limits. Because I trust him.

He studies my face for a moment before running a thumb over my bottom lip. His eyes darken, sending a surge of heat to my center. Need ignites.

My body vibrates with the sheer desperation I have for him. His hand lightly closes around my throat with a brief squeeze, sending lightning skittering down my spine.

“Take it all off,” he finally demands.

His voice, all raw and visceral, takes my breath away. I strip down, sliding the coat from his shoulders before my fingers fly through each button on his old work shirt and it hits the blankets we stand on. When we are bare as the day we were born in front of each other, he tips his head, signaling to the hat he still wears.

“The hat stays,” I whisper.

A strained growl slips out, and his top lip curls a little.

He pushes me to my knees and runs his hand through my hair before his fist tangles in my locks, tightening. His hard length is in my face. Temptation never felt so incredible. I slide a hand around it, taking him all the way into my mouth.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock like a good girl, Gracie.”

My eyes flutter shut as I work him up and down. Need pools in my belly, wetness coating the inside of my thighs. God, this version of my husband will never get old. I swirl my tongue over his velvety tip. Saltiness meets my tongue. It hits my core like a freight train—I do this to him. This unbreakable man, who’s all heart and soul.

He groans, and his other hand brushes under my jaw, tilting my head up a little. Thrusting in further, he hits the back of my throat. My eyes water, stealing the last of my breath. I ache for him. My breasts bounce with the movement, my hard peaks desperate for touch. I slide my hand over one, rolling my nipple between my fingers. The whimper rattling up my chest vibrates around him.

“Fuck, Gracie. Touch yourself.”

I trace my hand down my body until my fingertips brush over my clit. A muffled cry leaves me, and Mack’s face wrecks. The warm, tingling spiral of bliss starts to form as I work my fingers around in small circles, massaging my throbbing clit. My body starts to shake. Mack’s thrusts slow. He pulls back, leaving the tip of him between my lips.

“Spin around, on your hands and knees.” His words are short, harsh.

Desire skitters down every nerve. I’m so strung out with need, I move automatically. My hands sink into the soft blanket. He kneels behind me, dotting kisses from the base of my spine to the space between my shoulder blades. My breasts swing as I roll my hips, desperate to find him. The blanket rubs across my nipples. It’s too much. I whimper. I’m a writhing, needy, wet mess.

“Fuck me, please, Mac-kin-lay...” Every short, choppy breath burns.

A hand slaps my ass, hard. The sting spreads. “Don’t fuckin’ beg. It’s beneath you.”

“I don’t care, please. Fuck me. So fucking hard.”

Another slap to the other cheek. Wetness gathers again, re-coating the inside of my thighs. God, when he talks to me like that...

His hands grip my hips. He slams into me before the next heartbeat. My moan turns to a whimper with the stretch. The bliss of being so filled. So well. He pauses for a second, letting me adjust.

“You want it rough, gorgeous girl?” he rasps.

I nod.

“Say it, Grace.”

“I want you rough.”

He pulls out so excruciatingly slowly, my mouth waters. My center aches. My clit throbs like it’s about to implode. His hand finds my hair, twisting it until it’s wound over his wrist and tight in his grip. I look back. His face is feral. His chest heaves. Mine caves in at the sight of him.

“Hands,” he barks.

I rest my cheek on the blanket, chest pressing into the softness, which sends my reddened ass canting up toward him as I move my hands behind my back. His free hand grips my wrists together at the small of my back. His knee nudges my right leg wider. Then my left.

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