Page 22 of Manhattan Heart

“Ah, my girl. You know how to love me.”

I know how to make his eyes roll to the back of his skull too and I do that when I let him hit the soft part of my throat. It’s his catalyst because I’m hauled up and tossed bodily onto the bed with a giggled bounce.

“Impatient much?”

He kicks the sweatpants off and prowls across to me where he pulls my ass to the very edge of the bed. My knees naturally fall apart for him. And the heated look he gives between my legs is pure want. The way he wets his lips and gives me one long lick is need and then when he lines us up and shoves forward in a powerful thrust, filling me while his hands hold my knees spread apart, is about as perfect as sex gets between us.

It gets even better as he starts to move.

Since the first time we slept together, I’ve loved the way Gray takes me.

It’s not only the orgasms which are other worldly kind of good. For real, my man deserves recognition from the Nobel Prize people.

But it’s how he looks at me while he steadily thrusts until he hits bottom.

It’s in the way he licks his lips in concentration before he hooks a hand around the back of my neck and lifts me into a kiss. It’s every stroke and caress and how he holds his thumb to my clit because the evil monster knows I get off on him making me wait for it.

“Grayson, please.”

He grunts. He loves me begging. He loves providing for me. It’s his inner caveman and there’s nothing sexier than Gray giving me what I want.

Call me a selfish bitch and I’d sayhell yeahwhere his dick and body is concerned. That body of his belongs to me and I use it well and often.

As our mouths meet, I feel the thundering of his heart through my chest.

He takes me harder, deeper. And I can’t stand waiting a second longer.

I plead more, winding my legs around him.

“You’ll take what I give you,” he issues.

Jesus Christ. Who’d refuse that?

I whimper, no word of a lie, I’m a whimperer with Gray.

I make noises in our bed that I’ve never made before.

I plead, I beg, I cry when the pleasure is so overwhelming and releasing.

I do all those sweet things that only he brings out in me, so when he tells me to take it, I fucking take it.

His shoves become harder. Shorter.

He slaps both hands on the bed next to me, bringing our faces within inches apart. I love the flushed look of sex on his face. Sweat dotting his upper lip, eyes smoky and wild.

He’s close and so am I.

“Need this?”Thisis his thumb driving madly over my clit, sending my head back into the comforter, I nod frantically. “God. You feel so good, Gray. I’m so full.”

He grunts and I moan.

He plays my body thoroughly, telling me how delectable I am, how he loves me dirty and soaked for him. “Pretty wet pussy,” he whispers in my ear and hearing him dirty-talk has the same effect all the time, by pouring me into a body-shaking orgasm hard enough the bed feels like it might move a few feet.

When Gray comes, he moans my name and crushes his lips down onto mine while I wrap both arms and legs around him.

We’re both breathless as we finish, hearts pounding in sync against our chests.

“Fuck. I love you, India. Fucking love you.” He cusses more during and after sex too. I love it. His warm breath fans over my face. “No one gets me off like you do.”

---