When we stumble into Grayson’s apartment forty-five minutes later we are both drenched in sweat and gasping with lust. Grayson proved to be surprisingly skilled on the dance floor. Or maybe I was just so fucking hot for him, I didn’t even notice his moves (or lack thereof). He could have been doing the chicken dance combined with the bunny hop and I still would have wanted to rip his clothes off.
We hardly lasted half an hour in that club. With all the pulsing and grinding and our drenched bodies slamming against each other, it was more than either of us could handle. There came a point, smack-dab in the middle of a song, when we both just looked at each other—our faces flushed red, our limbs quivering—and, without uttering a word, we bolted for the exit.
Grayson closes the front door and pins me against it, leaning in to lick the sweat off the side of my neck. I whimper with pleasure.
“We’re both filthy,” I breathe, feeling the grime of the city and the perspiration of the dance floor coating my skin.
“I know how to solve that,” he murmurs.
And before I can say another word, I’m suddenly swept off my feet, and slung over his shoulder. Squealing with delight, I watch the hardwood floors under his feet change to white tile, announcing that we’ve reached the bathroom. Then I hear the hum of the shower running. Grayson sets me down and his lips fly to my damp collarbone like a magnet to metal. His tongue sweeps across the crevices as his hands find the bottom of my dress and yank it over my head.
I fumble for the buttons of his dress shirt, clawing at them like a rabid animal. He unbuttons his slacks and tugs them off along with his boxers, while I kick out of my underwear.
He returns his mouth to mine and falls into me, pushing me back into the shower stall until I slam against the tile wall. The warm water cascades over me as his tongue tangles with mine. Water drips between our dancing lips, mixing with the intensity of the kiss, making everything slicker, wetter, more urgent.
His torso pushes me harder against the wall, sliding against my bare breasts, turning my nipples into hard pebbles that do their best to push back. But they’re no match for his strong pecs.
His hand slithers down my drenched body, finding my inner thigh, grabbing and squeezing like he wants to pull the skin right off. I moan and slam my head against the tiles, my damp hair whips into my face. Grayson reaches up with his other hand and frantically brushes it back, lunging for my lips again, like he’s out of oxygen and they are the only known source.
Then his hand is on my breast, cupping it and massaging it, sending my world into a free fall.
His other hand finds the back of my knee, forcing my leg into the air until it’s flush with the wall. His fingers trickle down the length of my thigh, teasing, exploring, finding their way inside me. I cry out as his fingertips massage me from the inside while his palm exerts pressure from the outside.
His lips move to the hollow of my neck, whispering into my skin. Drinking the moisture right out of me as the hot rain from above keeps replenishing and replenishing.
And then suddenly I feel his dripping wet hardness against my leg, inching its way up. When he slides into me the color drains from the room. From the world. I see everything in a stark, pulsing black and white.
His hand pushes my leg further up the wall as he thrusts himself deeper inside me. He bends and straightens his knees, his whole body heaving up and down. The slickness of the water on our skin makes everything frictionless. I snake my hands around the back of his head, tangling my fingers into his sopping hair. His head becomes the leverage I need to move with him. To propel him faster and harder through me.
Every time his torso slams against me, I cry out in intense pleasure.
He moans fiercely as my hands ripple down his back, tracing the curves of his muscles, until they land on his ass and squeeze. His thrusts intensify, as do his hoarse whimpers, and I’m pulling him into me. Into me. Into me.
My whole body is throbbing, climbing, reaching a pinnacle. The shiver of climax is within my reach. I can feel his body stiffening beneath my fingers, everything preparing itself for the ultimate bliss. He’s pulsating between my legs, getting closer.
With one final thrust, I’m knocked hard into the wall and my body lets go. The swell of ecstasy blasts through me, crumpling my nervous system, rendering me useless and yet immensely powerful at the same time.
He lets out a deep howl as he collapses against me, every inch of him shaking.
I feel him soften slightly inside of me as he allows every last drop of pleasure to seep out.
“Lia.” My name is barely a whistle of wind as his forehead comes to rest against mine.
I struggle for breath as my arms fall limp at my sides.
“I know” is all I can say.
Is all that needs to be said.