Page 82 of Saving Grace

Who am I kidding? She already did that.

Cracked this broken man to smithereens and meticulously put each piece back where it belonged, one after another. ‘Til the man she recreated was better than the original. Every day that follows this one is goin’ to be one I use to make her feel as loved as she makes me feel.

“Mackinlay . . .”

She’s close.

I take over, raising her and thrusting into her as I allow her to fall back to my lap. She slams her eyes shut.

“Eyes on me, my girl.”

Her eyes open, strung out with a silent plea. Lifting her again, I thrust up and slam her down. She tightens around me before exploding in a cascade of pulses milking my cock. I breathe hard, tamping down the urge to follow her over that same edge. Not yet. Not until she’s had her fill.

“Mack, Mackinlay . . .”

Best fuckin’ sound in the world. Every hard day, every bit of pain, every setback was worth it to get to this moment. Grace stills on my lap, her chest heaving. I push off the bed and hold her with one arm. I lay her on the bed and pull out.

Flipping her over, I grip her hips and drag them toward me.

She moves backward, pushing against my throbbing cock.

I tilt my head back in an effort to slow my body down. Dipping my head back down, blue eyes meet mine. She wriggles those hips again, cheek pulling at her face.

“Like that, is it, Gracie girl?”

She laughs and spreads her legs. Her hand slips to her center, and she rubs her clit. “Come on, Mack. Don’t make me wait.”

Fuck me.

You don’t have to ask. Or be gentle. You won’t break me.

She doesn’t want me to see her as fragile. I get it.

So, I won’t.

I slap her ass and drag her closer still. I run the tip of my cock through her wet center, and she moans into the duvet.

“Mackinlay Samuel Rawlins, fuck me already.”

I slam into her, and the mewl she makes strangles my balls and sends an ache into my chest. I pull out so slow, her legs begin to tremble. The flare of her ribs tells me she’s sucking in a deep lungful. Her hair is scattered over her back and shoulders. And all I can think of is the messy bun she wears that I love.

I brush my hands around her shoulders, sweeping her hair in one hand, and twist my wrist until I’m wound into her tangled locks bunched in my fist. Her head tilts back, and soft pants turn her moans erratic. This, this is what turns her on.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” I growl.

She grabs my wrist with her fine fingers and cants her ass up further, wanting more. I trail my other hand up her spine and dot kisses to the small of her back and rise with a thrust so deep it’s impossible to tell where I end and she starts. She clenches around me.

She’s so fuckin’ close already.

Sweet Jesus, this damn girl.

“You’re gonna come on my cock for me. But I want to see your face when it happens this time, Grace. Not yet, gorgeous.”

She whimpers.

I’m cruel. I know.

I’m selfish when it comes to her.

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