Chapter Twenty-four
Grace didn’t even hesitate. She threw herself into the kiss as wholeheartedly as he did. Maybe a little too wholeheartedly, she admitted to herself as he staggered back a step under the onslaught of her full body weight against him. But true to form, he righted himself quickly, his hands slipping down to her ass, pulling her tightly against him.
Nick flipped her around, pressing her back against the wall in his room. He kissed her hard and with a desperation she could only attribute to fear of being pushed away again.
Not that there was any chance of that happening at the moment.
He pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged. “I’m so sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean what I said.”
Less talking, more kissing, she wanted to say, but his mouth seemed to have some kind of gravitational pull, because she couldn’t help but go after his lips again. He held her back, though. “I mean it,” he said in a voice so rough it sounded like it’d been beaten against rocks since they last spoke. “Do you forgive me?”
“Only if you don’t stop kissing me.”
He raised his head and looked down into her eyes, and Grace knew she was this close to convincing him to surrender. And damned if seeing that near-surrender in this man’s eyes didn’t make her feel like the sexiest siren ever to have lived. It was a heady, dangerous feeling. She could get used to it, grow dependent on it, so, so fast.
But that was a worry for another day. There just wasn’t room for worry between them at the moment. Only heat, forgiveness, passion, and need.
He closed his eyes and let out a hoarse groan. “You’re killing me. Don’t we need to talk about this?”
She was pretty sure she was going to die if she didn’t get him inside her soon, so she just shook her head. “Not now.”
He slid his hand under her hair to firmly but gently grip her nape. “We will talk about this later,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Yes! Grace did a mental fist pump. She had him!
“Later,” she agreed. “Much later.”
Her entire body hummed with electricity as he moaned into her mouth and kissed her again. It wasn’t long before their kisses grew feverish and frantic, their breathing labored.
Grace had never been the type to lose control, but with Nick, control was nothing more than a distant memory—and not an entirely pleasant distant memory. If this was what it felt like to let go with Nick, Grace realized there was no going back. She might just be officially ruined for all other men, and she hadn’t even gotten him inside her yet.
Nick was the first to break the kiss. But her moan of protest turned into a shocked squeal as he bent down, put his shoulder into her stomach and neatly upended her, tossing her over his shoulder, caveman-style. In a few long, purposeful strides, he reached his bed, where he dumped her unceremoniously onto the mattress.
Her body barely even had time to bounce once before he was on her, holding his weight off her as he kissed her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee. Grace gasped into his mouth as he lowered his body onto hers, then she let out an embarrassing sound—something needy and desperate and guttural—when he rocked his hips gently into her.
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned between kisses. “That is the sexiest damn sound I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Oh, okay. Maybe she shouldn’t be embarrassed by that sound after all.
Which was a good thing, because she started making that sound on a continuous loop as Nick slid his lips down over her neck. While his tongue traced the hollow at the base of her throat, his hands worked the knot at the waist of her robe free. When the thick layers of terrycloth were peeled back and she was completely bared to his gaze, she could actually feel the weight and heat of his stare gliding all over every inch of her skin.
All. Over.
But even as her skin warmed and tingled under the intensity of his stare, old insecurities reared their ugly heads. She’d never lost that freshman fifteen—okay, twenty—she’d picked up at Notre Dame. Brad had certainly never let her hear the end of that, especially when he bought her a gym membership for Christmas and an elliptical machine for her birthday. (The elliptical machine doubled nicely as a rack to dry her sweaters on, though, so at least it was practical. The gym membership had been a total waste.) And here she was, laid out like a sacrificial offering to a guy who was built like a Greek god…
He shook his head slowly and lifted awe-filled eyes to hers. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re perfect, Grace.”
And he meant every word, she realized. To him, she truly was perfect. It didn’t matter if her thighs jiggled, or her ass was dimply. He thought she was beautiful just the way she was. Tears filled her eyes, but she impatiently blinked them away.
Grace released the death grip she had on the sheets and leaned up, taking his face in her hands as she kissed him. “Where have you been all my life?”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against him. “Just waiting for you, angel. Just waiting for you.”
Well, if that wasn’t the best aphrodisiac in the world, she didn’t know what was. Grace reached down and tugged impatiently on the hem of his shirt. “Off. Now. Need.”
He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he reached behind him, snagged the back of his shirt and tugged it over his head in that way that only guys could ever seem to accomplish. If Grace tried that, she’d end up with her shirt stuck on her ears and her arms trapped like they were in a straightjacket.
The shirt hadn’t even hit the floor before she got her hands on him, letting her fingertips trace the contours of his chest before shifting and letting them bump over the ridges of his abs, all—two, four, six—eight of them. And to think she’d sworn after watching 300 that eight-packs were only possible with CGI.
Other than the tightening of his muscles and his shallow breathing, he stayed perfectly still while she touched him. It was absolute, glorious torture. Beautiful and agonizing at the same time.
She wanted more of him and she wanted it now. With a growl of frustration, she hooked her hand behind his head and yanked him down on her, pressing her mouth to his once more, fervently, feverishly.
She felt his smile against her mouth and it made her want to snag his lower lip between her teeth and nip the hell out of it—just to let him know she meant business. But she didn’t dare for fear he’d stop altogether.
But he must have sensed how close he was to losing his lower lip because he murmured. “Relax, angel. We have all night.”
All night? she screamed inwardly. She couldn’t go on like this all night! She needed more now. It had been too long. Far, far too long.
But that and all other rational thought left the building when his hand slid down her stomach before slipping deftly between her legs.
Grace might have blacked out a little at that point. All she knew for sure was that he touched her like he’d been gifted an owner’s manual for her body. He knew just how to touch her to reduce her to a quivering, panting, whimpering puddle with no coherent thoughts other than how much she wanted—no, needed—to come.
“Please,” she said on a desperate exhale, then nearly sobbed like a baby when his hand slowed as he listened to her. “You need to be in me now.”
“Not yet,” he murmured.
She would’ve protested, but her eyes rolled back in her head and words escaped her when he dipped his head and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. After shifting to give her other breast his attention—hallelujah and thank you, Jesus—he lifted his head to watch her reaction as his hand started moving again.
Grace bit down on her lower lip and squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to make any more noises that would let him know just how close she was to coming. She just couldn’t take the risk of him trying to slow things down again. But he must have been on to her, because just when her legs began to quiver, just when she was right there, his fingers slowed again.
With a roar of frustrated outrage, Grace slapped her hands down on the mattress. “Motherfucker!” she cried.
The motherfucker kissed her jawline. “You have no idea how sexy you are right now,” he said, licking the spot right below her ear.
Grace sucked in a deep breath through her nose. “Then why are you torturing me?”
“You think it’s not torture for me, too?” he said with a tight-sounding chuckle. “I’m trying my damnedest to go slow. I’ve been thinking about dead puppies and baseball stats since you opened that door to keep from shredding your clothes like a fucking animal and pounding you into the wall.”
Grace shifted under him and practically purred at the thought of him pounding her into the wall. “And that would be bad?”
“It’d be great. Awesome. Reality-altering, most likely. But it wouldn’t be fucking romantic, and I was kind of going for romantic here, Grace. I’m tryin’ to make this last.”
A little bit of Jersey was seeping back into his voice, letting her know he wasn’t as calm, cool, and in control as he’d let her believe up until that point. Thank God.
Reaching up, she cupped her hand around the back of his neck and yanked his head down so that their mouths were only a whisper apart before she said, “Nick, I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” he said without hesitation.
Again, thank God.
Putting every bit of seriousness into her tone as humanly possible, she looked him dead in the eye and said, “It’s been a really long time since I’ve had sex, Nick, and I need you to fuck me. Hard and fast. Getting pounded into the wall sounds perfect to me. We can worry about romance later. And there will definitely be a later, because I guarantee you, one time will not be enough.”
His eyes went dark and his expression turned nothing short of feral—and Grace knew a moment of trepidation. Had she bitten off more than she could chew with this one? But his next words shut down that train of thought faster than she could draw her next breath.
“Then brace yourself, angel. This might get rough.”
Yeeeessss.
Thank God, Nick thought as Grace bit her lip and nodded her agreement.
For all his good intentions of taking things slow, of showing Grace how much she meant to him and how much he respected her, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could’ve held out on her. It was getting to the point that not even dead puppies and obscure baseball stats could keep his baser instincts at bay. The need to be inside her was starting to overrule every other need he had, including the need for air. If he had to choose at the moment, he’d definitely take Grace over air.
He stripped and got a condom on faster than he ever had in his life, all under her watchful, lust-filled eyes. Shit, just the weight of her gaze on him was enough to damn-near make him come. She was right about one thing for sure.
This would not be their only time together. He’d never get enough of Grace Montgomery. Not ever.
When he reached under her and lifted her off the bed, she squealed, but didn’t back down. Her fingers threaded through his hair, fingernails scraping along his scalp. Chills swept over his skin. God, it felt so good to have her hands on him, her tongue stroking his.
Her legs looped around his waist and tightened as he put her back against the wall and leaned into her, pinning her there with his weight, rocking his hips against hers. With a groan, she dug her heels into his back and pulled him closer. “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth. “Now.”
No more than half a second later, he was starting to slide into her, his hands cupping her ass, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. Her mouth fell open on a hiss as he slowly started to lower her onto his cock.
His thoughts at that point devolved quickly. Tight, wet, hot, heaven. Jesus. Had anything, anyone, ever felt this good, this right, in his life?
She squirmed and let out a desperate whimper. “Oh, God. I want you so bad, but it’s been too long and you’re way bigger than I’m used to. I don’t know if I can take all of you like this.”
Well, shit, if that didn’t do wonders for the old ego, nothing ever would. “You can.” You will. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to. You’re in charge.”
But her fears were unfounded. Her head thunked back against the wall and her eyes fell shut as she proved him right. She took every last inch.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Her only answer came in the form of an unintelligible grunt. “Do you want me to stop?” he clarified.
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.
Grace’s eyes flew open and her nails dug into his shoulders. “God, no! Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
That was pretty much all he needed to hear.
Nick drove into her, hard and fast, just like she’d asked. She cried out so loud with every thrust he was pretty sure their neighbors would be complaining any minute. Not that he cared. Nothing short of the National Guard was going to stop him at this point.
Their combined desire was damn near animalistic.
“I swear I’ll fuck you all night if you want me to,” he whispered in her ear, his voice so rough and urgent he barely recognized it as his own. “I’ll make you come so many times, so hard, you’ll see fucking stars. I won’t stop until every fucking guest on this floor knows my name because you’ll be screaming it so loud.”
She let out a gasp/moan combo that reached down and gripped his balls in a velvet vice. Every muscle in his body tightened and burned, and he knew he couldn’t last much longer like this. He had to focus if he wanted to make sure she was taken care of before he got off.
Nick shifted so that both his hands were under her again and pulled her in tighter against him, flexing his hips at the same time to make sure the base of his cock hit her clit with every thrust.
“Oh my God,” she cried, her eyes drifting shut. “Don’t stop! Please don’t stop.”
As if that was even an option at this point.
Her head dropped to his shoulder and her hands clutched desperately at his biceps as she finally—finally—came, screaming his name just like he’d promised she would, her body tightening and pulsing around him. And that’s when he lost control.
If he’d ever really had any with her, that is.
He came harder than he ever had in his life, buried as deep within her as he could get, with her face pressed into his neck, her heart pounding against his, her harsh, rasping breaths a perfect mirror of his own. It was as close to a perfect moment as Nick imagined he’d ever had or would ever have.
Being with Grace, right from the start, had been fun. No matter how complicated their personal and family situations were, being with Grace was easy. But this, this feeling of peace that he felt right now wasn’t something he had any experience with. Being with Grace was like coming home.
Maybe it was that uncharacteristically deep thought, or maybe it was the fact that he was most likely dehydrated, but whatever the reason, that’s when Nick’s legs gave out.
Stumbling, completely spent, he dropped to his knees, dragging Grace down with him. She squealed and clung to him like a sloth, knocking him flat on his back on the hotel carpet.
Shit, he thought, waiting for her to get pissed at him. Talk about a mood-killer.
Then, in typical Grace fashion, she did something that shocked the hell out of him.
She started laughing.