Touching Down(68)

An uneven grunt rumbled from his mouth when he felt my body ready for him. “What do you mean then, Ryan? Whatever you want—it’s yours. Just say it.” His tongue tasted my skin, circling my navel before moving lower.

“I don’t want slow. I don’t want gentle.” My back quivered when his knuckles brushed between my legs. “I want the opposite.”

Grant’s grip tightened against me, before his head tipped back and his eyes found mine. “Then get on the bed and let me give you just that.”

He rose like a tower above me with his body so close, his arms feeling as though they were swallowing my body whole. His hands formed around my backside, and he lifted me into the air. As I wrapped my legs around him, my mouth crushed against his, letting his tongue claim my mouth. I was desperate to have some part of him inside me.

He spun us around, breaking the kiss once he’d lowered me to the bed. I didn’t want to let him go—my legs only tightened when he tried to pull back. One leg at a time, his hand formed under the bend of my knee, untying them from him and spreading them on the mattress.

He was so damn strong. He didn’t have to take his time exerting his force. He didn’t have to be gentle about showing it. But he always did—he always had. In the process, his strength became transient, making me feel just as strong. Harnessing his power—controlling it when lesser men would have abused it—was one of the reasons Grant Turner had been the only one who’d ever owned my heart.

“As bad as I want you right now . . .” His voice was a deep rumble in my ear as he ground himself between my legs. My moan rose from deep inside me as I arched my back closer. “I want to feel all of you against me. I want all of you.”

He pitched into me once more before pulling back, a smirk moving into place when he looked down at me writhing and panting, desperate.

“This. This right here.” His eyes took me in: my lips parted from my breathing, my nipples hard from my arousal, my knees still spread, my body trembling from need. “This is the image I’m going to focus on whenever my fist curls around my dick.”

I lifted onto my elbows as he tugged off his shirt. “You’ve got me for that. No need to take your matter into your own hand.”

“And after the past seven years of taking my matter into my own hand, you have no idea how fucking thrilled I am about that.” He stopped working the button of his jeans free to flash his right hand. “The callouses on my hand thank you. My sex-starved dick thanks you . . . and your . . .” A clearing of his throat filled in the rest. As his gaze dipped down my body, his hands moved with new speed to free him of his pants.

I was so focused on Grant’s body as he undressed it that I felt dizzy from the way the muscles pulled his skin with every little move, fascinated by the way the moonlight highlighted certain areas, the darkness shadowing others.

“Grant?”

“I also answer to Sir, Sex Lord, or if you’re feeling really kinky, Daddy.” He arched a brow at me, smiling.

“Can I clarify something?” I swallowed.

“Absolutely, but you might want to hurry. I’m planning on making it difficult for you to speak soon.”

When he pulled his jeans down past his hips, heat burst up my throat. The man really didn’t believe in underwear. When my eyes went wider, my tongue touching my lips, Grant’s hand dropped to himself. He was trying to distract me. Trying to prove to me what he meant by making it impossible to speak.

“That seven years of giving your hand callouses . . .” I had to close my eyes and exhale when he started to lower his body onto mine. Focus, Ryan. For ten seconds. It was next to impossible to focus on anything besides the way Grant’s warm body felt spreading against mine. “Was that more of a bonus on the side or—”

“All the action I got,” he answered, his arm cradling my body as he dragged us up the bed. Once he had placed my head on a pillow, his head dropped, nuzzling between my breasts.

“So my mind’s a little fuzzy right now, but does that mean . . .?”

“You’re the last woman I was with, Ryan,” he whispered against my skin, his warm breath making the skin prickle.

“Come again?”

His husky chuckle vibrated against my sternum. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever been with. My first. My last.” He kissed the canyon at the base of my neck. “My only.”

My ears accepted his words, but my mind struggled with them. “No way. No. Way.” My throat bobbed as I considered that. I tried to wrap my mind around a man of his stature going through a seven-year dry spell. Willingly going through one.