Olivia
The moment I step into the apartment, I am lifted into Grey’s arms. I gasp out of pure shock and feel my heart pound within my throat. But my gasps are swallowed by his mouth conquering mine, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. My body immediately relaxes and conforms to his. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull away for a moment and grip the hem of his shirt before rolling it up and pulling it off completely. I fling it to the ground, and he crashes his lips back on mine. His hand grips my throat, and I moan and tug at his hair.
I adore that he’s trying to make me forget my mother. I love him and how much he wants to see me happy, or at least not tearing up from the inside out. I admit, I have been down ever since yesterday. I could feel my heart explode in my chest when she left.
The look on her face completely broke me. I could sense every trust she had in me crack. One by one, as she tugged and pulled my hand, intent on dragging me all the way back to New York, my respect and childish adoration for her crumbled until there was nothing but a pile of dust in my chest. I didn’t want this to happen, but it did, and there’s nothing I can do…
“Hey, hey.” Grey stops marking my collarbone and tugs gently on my lower lip. I moan and close my eyes as he whispers, “Stop thinking about her. Concéntra me, cariño. Solo enfóca me.” (Concentrate on me, baby. Just focus on me.)
I nod and press my hands on his face, deepening our kisses. I kiss him with everything I have, transferring my pain and sorrow into him. And he doesn’t mind taking it all. I have never loved him so much like I do in this moment. He isn’t afraid of taking my distress away, doing everything he can to make me feel better. I love him so much, it kills me.
He exhales it all as he drops me onto the bed. I undo my pants, and he drags my panties down my legs and throws them aimlessly on the ground. I watch as he undoes his pants and takes his boxers off as well. While he does, I take off my shirt and bra.
I lean up halfway and press my lips to his. His mouth fits with mine almost too flawlessly and tastes sickly sweet and bitter from the cigarette he had earlier. Our lips and tongues move in excellent sync, like they were meant for each other, even when we didn’t know one another.
That’s what I feel with him. Like I loved him even before I met him. Like I was nothing, empty before him. But then he came along, and there was this cosmic blast. Pieces meshed together. I started smiling, and it wasn’t just because of a stupid joke Louise found on Google or because of a witty line from a character in a book—it was genuine and colossal and all because of him. I began to experience emotions like I never have before. I started crying more, screaming more, hurting more, but I also began laughing and felt lust and felt love in its purest form.
I inhale deeply and try not to cry in pleasure when he enters me. I curl my toes in the sheets and drag my feet along his calves until my legs are crisscrossed against his tight back. I never knew I was so flexible until I started having sex. I want to raise my legs higher, so I do. I let a curse slip out of my mouth as he hits my G-spot perfectly.
“Oh my…that feels…mmmm, Grey,” I whisper and arch my back, pressing down on his, pushing him further in me. I curse again and twirl a tendril of the end of his hair and tug, digging my fingers in his scalp, tugging until he groans and strings along an incoherent sentence in Spanish. Normally, I would have been able to understand what he said, but I’m a little busy at the moment.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, grinding and rolling and rotating his hips. I suck in short breaths and let out raspy moans. I drag my fingers down his neck, sending the hairs to stand up, almost like they’re dancing, and clench my fingers into his muscular back. The muscles beneath his golden skin shift and constrict each time he pulls out and plunges back into me.
“So much like an angel. I love you, I love you, I love you…” he murmurs, and I smile and yelp as he picks up speed.
“Te quiero mucho, mi Grey,” I reply and gently kiss the skin just below his ear. He shudders and thrusts hard into me. “Oh my God.” (I love you so much, my Grey.)
“You like that, bebé?” I can practically hear his smirk.
“Mm-hmmm.” I can only moan and grip his hair harder.
I pull back and suck in my bottom lip. He bends down and swipes his tongue over my upper lip and sucks lightly. I release my lower one, and he kisses me sloppily and passionately, but it is just perfect. My stomach tightens, and I feel light-headed. The combination is mind-blowing. It’s like I’m on fire and he’s the wind that amplifies me. But I am not burning out. I am flying high in the wind while he blows on my back.
“I love it, Grey. So, so, much. Keep—fuckkk—keep doing that.”
I move my hands to his face and clutch his scarred but beautifully sculpted face. I need more. I need so much more. This isn’t enough. It’s enticing, but I need more.
Without knowing my plan for this extreme greediness in me, I move my hands to his shoulders and push against him. He grips my hip and tries to push me back down, but I force him under me and kiss him even deeper. Our kissing becomes more feverish, and I have to pull back to breathe. I scrape my fingers down his chest as I close my eyes and move my hips.
It feels weird, fuller, with me on top. But it’s also the fire I was desperately searching for.
“Are you—shit—okay this way?” he grunts and looks me in my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah…it just—” I moan and move my hips slowly, causing him to clutch my hips. “It just feels a little weird. But also really good.” I laugh, and he smiles up at me. I lean down and attach my lips to his. He kisses me with so much passion, I almost can’t handle it.
I continue to move and swirl my hips, and he grabs my hair, moving the other hand to my butt. He kneads my skin, and I curse and kiss him harder. He moves his hips up and down to meet my strokes, and I scream into his mouth. He swallows it with a crooked smile.
Me on top of him feels so good, it’s almost too much for me to keep up. But with the way he’s cradling my back and kissing me with so much passion, so much fire, and meeting my movements—he makes it more than bearable. I play and twist his hair between my fingers.
He pulls back and presses his forehead against mine. “No one is ever going to make you feel this way,” he murmurs, then continues in his native language. “Eres mío, princesa. Solo mío.” (You’re mine, princess. Only mine.)
“Y tú eres solo mío,” I respond and moan his name. He kisses me from my forehead, to my nose, to my cheeks, everywhere. And with each kiss, I can feel my heart pound harder and harder against my chest. Begging for fresh air. My stomach twists, and my lips tingle. “I’m close,” I announce and gulp, but he smashes his lips against mine, and I grip his face and roll my hips. He grips my waist. (And you’re only mine.)
“Vente para mí bebé,” he whispers in my ear, his raspy voice igniting the pleasure that sweeps across my body like a wave of wildfire. (Come for me, baby.)
“Grey!” I scream his name and moan over and over, leaning up and dragging my fingers down his chest as I reach my climax. Stars dance across my eyelids and the universe spins as I experience my most intense orgasm yet. I suck on my bottom lip and continue to rock my hips against him as he digs his fingernails into my skin. Literally. He sits up and move his hips faster, and I bounce against him, wrapping my arms around him for dear life.
“Fuck, yes, I’m—” he grits out, and I feel him twitch within me before he explodes. I shut my eyes and kiss him feverishly. He pushes my hair back and grips my face. I pull back as he tugs on my hair, forcing me to look into his eyes. I almost come again at the sight of those charcoal eyes digging into my soul, leaving handprints I wouldn’t mind bragging about.
I smile widely, feeling my heart grow wings and flap like crazy, and kiss him again. He smiles, and it is all teeth and tongue and pure love at its finest. I feel my eye corners curl as I burst into a fit of laughter. He chuckles, and I fall beside him as he shuffles down and wraps my leg across his waist. More like flings it across. I splay my hand on his chest, huffing out and sucking in. I watch him close his eyes, examining the sweat that crosses his forehead and travels down his chest.
Moist and golden. He looks so content. I can look at him for an eternity, and I would never grow tired of the way his lips creak into a cocky smirk or the way his dimples slowly pop into his cheek when I say something amusing or the way his hands need to find me for serenity.
The room is silent, save for our panting, but it’s a nice silence. Comfortable, even. Actually, it’s like we both finished a marathon and are able to finally catch our breaths. After all the ups and downs, and the drama, and the whiplash emotions thrown from both of us…we can finally breathe. He and I are connected, and by the way he glances down at me with a crooked smile, we conclude that we’ve finally ran through the banner.
And now we can relax.
“Do you remember when you were so against us even kissing?” He breaks the silence after a few minutes. He twirls my hair between his fingers, and I sigh, tracing the words on his ribs. “But now look at you. Riding me into the fucking sunset.”
“Ugh, Grey…” I whine and press my face into his hard chest. I bounce up and down as he laughs and runs his rough palm up the length of my back.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he says, and I turn my head, push my unruly hair back, and look into his eyes, gently running my finger over his puffy bottom lip as he speaks. I love his lips so much; they’re like clouds from a super-soft planet. “I think it’s progressive. It means that, well, you grew to be comfortable with me. You trusted me.”
“I think I’ve always been comfortable with you,” I admit. “I didn’t have to try that hard when it came to you. I just…well, I was scared of loving you because I never had before. But I’m glad I did.” I snap out of looking at nothing, deep in space, and find him watching me, that same smile slanted across his face.
“It’s kinda hard not to love me, though,” he says; I scoff and playfully slap his chest. He chuckles, and I watch his eyes crinkle, smiling to myself. He lets out a deep breath and scrunches his eyebrows together. “Hey, what’s that shit you and Martin were talking about earlier?”
“His name’s Matthew, and a program,” I say. “It’s where I’ll learn hands-on training and gather even more detailed information on psychology. It’s actually really hard to get into. They only accept a small handful over the entire country, based on our entries,” I explain.
“Holy shit,” he says, his eyes wide and a proud smile thick across his face. “What was your entry about?”
“There was a lot to choose from, but I chose dementia.” I smile softly, and he nods.
“Is it bad that I don’t even know what that is, and I take psychology?” He squishes his face adorably. I laugh and shuffle up to his face.
“Yes, it’s quite horrible,” I whisper, and he eyes my mouth. I raise a brow and wiggle it. He bites his lower lip before smacking my butt. I yell and laugh, but he drowns them out as he grabs my chin and pulls my lips down to meet his.
In this moment, I know I am complete, and I wish to never be partial ever again.