Page 36 of Holly's Grizzly

I meet his deep thrust with a buck of my hips, wrap my thighs around him and squeeze, clutch at his shoulders and neck and back and let out a groan of wordless want as I draw his mouth to mine and claim that, too.

He drops a hand between our bodies and finds my clit, rubbing firm strokes in perfect time with the thrust of his cock inside me, the caress of his tongue devouring each little moan and cry and whimper as he builds me towards my climax.

It hits me harder and faster than I expected, crashing over me with enough force for every one of my muscles to go taut, every nerve ending sparking to life.

Devastating, complete, more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt.

The groan Irving lets out sounds like it comes from the bottom of his soul as his cock swells inside of me, as I’m filled with a rush of liquid warmth. Head thrown back, every inch of him shuddering and straining, he pours himself into me, fuckingme through every spasm of his climax, filling me so deep and so well.

“Holly,” he gasps, falling into me. “Fuck, Holly. That was…”

“I know.” My voice is shaking a little, words hoarse and thready.

We stay that way for a few long minutes. Trembling, sweaty, sharing breath and body and pleasure, and I never want it to end.

But apparently Irving gets his sanity back before I do.

“I’m going to crush you,” he mutters, moving like he’s about to lift himself off me.

“No,” I groan. The word is breathless, desperate as I get as much of myself wrapped around him as I can. It’s a losing effort. There’s just so much of him above me, far too much for me to do anything but cling to him with grasping arms and straining thighs. “Stay.”

He relents with a low chuckle, bracing his elbows on the bed and giving me more of his wonderful weight. His hips settle against mine, the snug fit of his cock and the warm, obscene wetness of our combined release trailing out of me as he thrusts in a lazy, languid rut of his body against mine. No urgency, no peak to chase, nothing but heat and tenderness so exquisite it makes my eyes sting.

“You feel so fucking incredible,” he says gruffly, a hitch in his breath when I meet his thrust with a tight squeeze of thighs around his waist. “Was it good for you, too?”

My laugh is starlight and tinsel, delightful absurdity that he would even have to ask.

Still, his dark eyes watch me carefully, something uncertain in them tugging at the tender thing in the center of my chest.

“Yes. It was good for me, Irving.”

The best I’ve ever had.

I don’t say that part, because admitting it and knowing that all of this is going to end in just a couple of days makes my chest feel fluttery and tight. Panicked, like if I don’t admit it to myself, then maybe this doesn’t have to end.

Irving starts to slide out of me, and I tighten my legs around his waist, holding him in place.

“You don’t have to… you could just… leave it.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and when I meet his gaze he’s got one dark brow raised.

“Leave it… in?”

Oh, lord.

I blush all the way to my hairline.

He huffs a low, gruff laugh. “You’re going to get cleaned up first. Then we can figure out how to keep you full all night.”

I grumble a little, but he just swats my ass.

“Up. You’re not getting a UTI on my watch.”

After a little more half-hearted grumbling—he’s right, after all, about the UTI thing—and a quick trip to the bathroom for both of us, we crawl back into bed.

Irving lets out a satisfied rumble as he pulls me into the cradle of his body, kissing my shoulder, the nape of my neck, nuzzling into my hair and finding the shell of my ear.

“You still want my cock, sweetheart?”

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