Page 84 of Good Graces

I grin, toss the blanket down, and crawl back on top of her. Then I shift us so we’re on the blanket, my knees pressing into the soft fabric as I peel my boxers down and kick them aside. My cock is already hard and heavy in my hand as I roll the condom on, fingers slipping in my rush.

Quinn watches as I settle between her thighs and slide a hand down to guide myself against her. The tip of my cock drags through her wetness, and her hips lift, desperate and greedy.

“Please,” she breathes, voice barely there.

I push in—just a little—just enough to stretch her open, to feel the wet heat of her pulse around me. Her nails scrape down my back, her legs winding around my waist.

“More,” she demands.

“You’re lucky I’ve forgiven you.”

She huffs. “You’re lucky I didn’t leave when you went to your car.”

I laugh—and then I’m kissing her once more, hard and desperate, like if I stop, I’ll lose her all over again.

“Yeah?” I rasp against her lips. “We’re both lucky, huh?”

I can’t get enough of her. Every gasp, every breathless moan. She’s so warm, so fucking tight, and when I push fully inside of her—slow and deep—her whole body clenches around me. It’s like she’s trying to hold me there forever, like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she doesn’t hold on tight.

“Fuck,” I mutter, my forehead dropping to her shoulder. “Even better than I remember.”

Her hands slide up my back, nails dragging lightly down my spine, just enough to make me shiver.

“Harder,” she whispers. “I need it.”

I give her what she wants. Drive into her harder, faster—deep enough to make her gasp, deep enough that she’s arching beneath me, clutching at my shoulders. She’s panting now, her breath ragged against my ear, and I can’t stop. Don’t want to.

The sound of her—soft, desperate, so fucking sweet—just makes me want to bury myself to the hilt. To split her open. To make her take all of me.

I shift her legs up higher, one ankle over my shoulder, and fuck her like I mean it. Until her nails are biting into my skin. Until she’s sobbing my name.

“Oh, God,” she gasps. “Don’t stop. Don’t—”

“I won’t,” I growl, thrusting harder. “I won’t. Fuck—Quinn—”

Her whole body tightens, legs squeezing tight around my waist as she shatters beneath me, her cunt pulsing and fluttering around my cock. I can barely breathe. Barely think. All I know is her—the heat of her, the way she’s falling apart in my arms. The way she’s mine again.

I spill into the condom with a strangled groan, muscles jerking as I ride out the last pulse of pleasure. But I don’t move, not yet. I stay right there, pressed against her, panting into the crook of her neck like if I let go, I’ll lose her.

Her hand comes up, fingers sliding lazily through my hair.

“Jesus,” she mutters, voice wrecked.

I chuckle against her skin. “Yeah.”

I should be done—I should be spent—but when I pull out and reach for the filled condom, I’m already half-hard again. My dick twitches in my hand, still slick from her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she says breathlessly.

I grin, reaching for her. “C’mere.”

I pull her into my lap, fingers sliding between her legs, teasing her back open. “You’re still really fucking wet.”

“Yeah,” she breathes, grinding down against my fingers. “You gonna do something about it?”

“Fuck yeah.”

I reach for a fresh condom, barely able to roll it on before she’s sinking down onto me. Slow at first, teasing me the way I teased her—grinding her hips in lazy circles, rolling her body.

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