Page 21 of Manhattan Heart

“I need to think about it. No, wait. I’ve had my puppy names for a while. The chunkier boy is Billy. And his brother is Vinny. He’s going to be the troublemaker; I just know it. We’ll no doubt be putting him in the naughty corner more than Billy.”

He just smiles at me and starts for the door when the food arrives. “Billy and Vinny Ellison. Two little hooligans in the making.”

Halfway through eating, full of noodles I put down my chopsticks. “Are the pups your subliminal way about asking for a kid?”

“Your mind is a weird and wonderful place, India.” He replies.

I love casual Gray. When he’s hanging out in sweatpants and bare feet and his hair finger-combed into a messy hot pile on top of his head. He’s forever effortlessly sexy, but this is my favorite look on him.

At least right now. I might wet my panties the next time I see him in a Tux.

“I know it is, but are you preparing my womb for invasion?”

“No, India. There’s no strings attached; I promise. We talked about a pet and I happened to talk to Cynthia who said her dog had given birth recently. I told her I was interested. You know the rest.”

“Well, I’m still sucking your dick every day for at least a month. Maybe two.”

He smirks like a devil. “It would be appreciated.”

Such lovely manners on my dirty sugar D.

When he clears away the dinner plates, I rush to check on the boys. So far they’ve only peed on the training pads we lay down for them and currently they’re snoozing. At eleven weeks old, they’re going to get a lot more active and just looking at them sleeping, my heart rolls over.

This is what it feels like to be maternal?

It’s weird and kind of nice, because I just want to scoop them up and have them sleep with me.

A hand on my waist brings my head around and the burning fire in Gray’s eyes cannot be mistaken for anything else other than pure unadulterated lust.

He wants sex, and he wants it now.

My belly instantly bottoms out and I feel wetness in my panties.

“I promised to put someone on their knees.” He rasps.

God. Yes. Please.

Honestly, after that I’m on him like a ferocious bear attack where he half carries me to our bedroom.

In between frantic dry humps and kissing. “Should we bring the boys in here?”

“No. Take off your pants, India.”

My pants are gone. As is my bra. His hands are all over me, cupping and stroking and owning every inch of tingling skin. When Gray sits on the side of the bed in just his sweatpants, he puts me between his legs so he can nuzzle my boobs. “What if they get scared?”

“They’re fine, they have each other and this is our bed. Get me out and then get down on your knees with your lips wet, baby.”

Some dog mama I am, because their little wellbeing flies out of the window the second I hear that demanding quality to his rough voice.

I wrap my hand around his cock the moment he pulls the waist of his sweatpants down, already falling to my knees, the soft carpeting cushioning any knee damage, not that I care. I love this angle, looking up at his heavily lidded eyes as he watches me fist his length, my fingers can’t ever meet around him.

He’s smooth and warm and he twitches in my palm.

Growing harder, he groans when I begin to pump him steadily.

He thrusts into my grip, giving a heavy grunt. “Fuck, baby. That’s good.”

I know it is, even for me, but his eyes practically eat me alive and I know he won’t let me play for long, so I lower my lips and suck the very tip against the roof of my mouth. This is when Gray emits an animal noise, low and dirty in his throat and he catches at my loose hair in both hands so he can watch me shower love on his beautiful dick.

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