Page 173 of Well That Happened

Infuriatingly slow.

Beautifully slow.

He moves like he has nowhere else to be for the next decade, his hands skimming over my breasts, down my sides, like he’s savoring the feel of me. And okay—normally, I love this. The intensity. The control.

But I’ve been wound up for two hours.

And he knows it.

So when I grind against him, desperate for more, he stills.

“Not yet,” he murmurs into my skin, his voice like silk and smoke. “I want to make this last.”

“I’m going todie,” I whisper, almost half-laughing, half-crying.

He chuckles, low and dark. “You’ll survive.”

I don’t think I will.

He stretches over me, slow and reverent, his body flush with mine as he rocks his hips just enough to tease. Just enough to make mefeelhim.

I’m slippery and incredibly wet and his cock slides easily through my folds.

Every muscle, every breath—tight with restraint.

And hestilldoesn’t push inside. I want to strangle him.

“I hate you,” I whisper, arching into him.

“You love me,” he says softly. “Even when I’m evil.”

He’s not wrong.

My whole body is trembling—coiled so tight I could snap with a single word. But instead of giving it to me, he brushes a strand of hair from my cheek and presses his forehead to mine.

“You’re everything,” he whispers. “You know that?”

I blink up at him, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes—not from pain, not from frustration, but from the way heseesme. The way he touches me like I matter.

His kiss is full of more than just passion. Does he not understand that his tender, sweet kisses are making it impossible for me not to fall for him? Or does he just not care? This was supposed to be fun—easy, hedonistic fun. It was never supposed to be more. I was certainly not supposed to fall in love with Grayson. Or Caleb. Or Hunter. But apparently, I couldn’t help myself.

But my thoughts are interrupted when he finally moves. Presses in, using his hand to guide himself. And his pace is perfect.

Dragging his big, veiny dick in and out of me…

“Gray,” I cry out.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs, voice low.

“I need…” I squirm, moaning again.

“I know you do,” he says, touching my cheek.

I bring my hands up, cup my breasts, and pinch my nipples. I feel two sets of hands remove them, restraining me. Caleb and Hunter.

I could cry with desperation.

“Almost, sweetheart,” Grayson groans.

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