His salty, sweet lips find mine in an instant. As though the path between us has already been paved. Etched into the air. Burned into the molecules. His hands twist into my chocolate-drizzled hair. His chest crashes against mine with a crack of electrifying thunder. His mouth moves with mine like the climax of a symphony. Melodic and building and dire.
I hold onto his face, urging it closer to me, gripping his skin like I’m tumbling toward the edge of a cliff.
And I am.
There is no turning back now.
We both know it.
And for the first time, neither of us cares.
His hands reach for the hem of my soiled shirt. It comes off in one ferocious tug. He clutches my back, driving our bare bodies toward each other. The heat radiating off of his sculpted stomach feels like I’ve been thrust against a sun.
Our tongues tango. Salsa. Foxtrot. We fight to get enough of each other. To taste each other deeper. To stake claim over the endless hollow carved between our lips. I feel my bra unclasp and slip from my arms. His mouth immediately dips to cover my breast, his knees bending to give him direct access. One hand reaches for my other breast while the second presses into my back, guiding my nipple deeper into his hot, wet mouth.
I let out a soft whimper, pushing down on his head.
His tongue flickers and swirls and strokes, sending me into a vacuum of dizzying pleasure.
He falls to his knees and gazes up at me. I look down on him and our gazes collide with an explosion that rumbles through the very heart of me.
“Lia,” he whispers, pressing his lips into my stomach. It’s a question and a statement and a promise all at the same time.
“Yes.” I respond ardently. To everything he wants. To everything he’s about to take.
To all of it.
He lets out a dark, guttural groan of release, wraps his arms around my waist, and rises to his feet, lifting me from the ground. He staggers forward a few feet until I feel my bare legs hit the smooth leather of the booth at table 9.
He lays me down across it, bending over me to unbutton and unzip my shorts. He grips the waistband and my panties in two hungry fistfuls and yanks them down my legs, tossing them behind him, into the abyss of the past. Then he lets out a tortured sigh of appreciation as he gazes upon my naked body.
It’s the kind of sigh I never dreamed would ever be directed at me.
“Fucking hell,” he breathes, falling back down to his knees before me.
I lift my head long enough to see him dip his mouth toward me, his strong, powerful tongue landing between my legs. He wastes no time tasting me, caressing me, moving me to nothing but a writhing, shuddering heap.
He moans into me, lapping me into a frenzy.
Holy shit, that feels amazing.
I dig my back into the cool upholstery of the bench, bucking against his mouth and panting like a crazed animal.
His tongue gives one final, slow drag across everything and then his head lifts, and his gaze drips over me. “I can’t take this anymore,” he vows, his words coming out in short, ragged wheezes. “I have to be inside of you.”
I sit up, feeling woozy, and lunge for his belt buckle, ripping it open and unbuttoning his jeans. He pushes them down, along with his boxer briefs, and I let out a tiny gasp when I see how hard he is for me.
“Do you see what you do to me?” he demands, his voice thick and raspy.
I wrap my hand around him, giving him two swirling strokes, before pulling him toward me, leading him where he has to go. Where I need him to go.
He sighs and falls into me. We tumble back onto the booth. His hardness splits me open, penetrating me deep with a single, desperate thrust. I cry out in ecstasy, the sound reverberating off every corner of the empty restaurant.
I’m so wet for him, he glides effortlessly within me, filling up every inch of space. I prop one leg up against the back of the booth, and let the other fall off the side, opening myself up as wide as I can to him. He responds by plunging deeper, letting out a low, lecherous groan as his tip brushes against my wall.
I gasp and wrap my arms around his back, digging my nails into his gorgeous flesh.
Everything inside me is screaming, pulsing, splintering. Begging to be released.
His mouth plummets down to meet mine. The kiss is rough and ravenous. His lips tumble and fall against mine. His teeth nibble and pull. His tongue burrows deep.
He surges hard and fast inside of me, the exquisiteness of his movement making me delirious and aching for more. I shove my hips against his and clench every muscle around him.
He drags his mouth across my cheek, panting into my ear. “Lia. Holy fuck, Lia.”
I feel him swell inside of me, slowing to a deliberate, hungry throb, as he withdraws almost completely before easing back inside me. Over and over again. The slow, purposeful rhythm sends a quiver of fever rippling through me. I cling tighter to his back, rocking back and forth with him, urging him and out, as his hips apply all the right pressure in all the right places.
I feel the deep burn rising up inside of me, the glorious ache of release within my reach.
As though reading my mind, Grayson starts to pulse faster, harder, reaching deeper with each thrust.
“Oh, God, baby, I’m going to come,” he whimpers in my ear. “I’m going to come so hard. Holy shit!”
And the hot, humid feel of his breath combined with the friction of our slick, sweaty skin is enough. I shatter, crumble into a million trembling pieces, crying out, as the heavenly wave picks me up and floats me into the most intense, throbbing pleasure my body has ever felt.
Grayson’s release comes not a second later. He plunges deep inside me, screaming my name into the empty dining room, releasing a wild, uninhibited moan against the side of my face. His whole body quivers as he pushes one last time into the glorious depths of me.
Panting, he collapses against me, his arms giving up, his body giving in.
And in the warm, hazy afterglow that feels like a perfect sun-drenched day, only one thought dances through my useless brain, like a tumbleweed blowing through a barren desert:
I’ve been saved.