He kisses his way down my neck, pressing his hard body against mine, grinding that thick, long cock of his between my legs. “I’m crazy about you, Ivy. You have to know that. I’m so lost in you, I don’t ever want to find my way back.”
One tug of his hands, and my soaked shirt is off, hitting the shower floor with a slap. Skin slides against skin, wet, firm. His mouth on mine, our fingers tangling as we push down my pants. I kick them free.
I move to him, but Gray holds me still with one hand on my shoulder. His lips part, his breath fast and agitated.
“Let me look at you,” he says. “I need to look at you.”
I’ve never been fully naked in front of anyone before. That I am now has my stomach clenching, the urge to cover myself tensing along my arms. But this is Gray, asking with his heart in his voice.
So I don’t hide. My back rests against the cool, wet tiles, and I let my arms fall to my sides.
A strangled sound leaves him, his grip on my shoulder tightening as he looks his fill.
I know I’m not perfect. My legs are long, but not muscular because I don’t work out. My hips are wider than I’d like, my butt a handful, even for him. A shiver works over me. I like myself just fine, but I’m not perfect. I—
“God.” He swallows, the muscles along his throat working. “You’re…I kept trying to picture you. So many times, I thought about you.” Gray rakes a hand through his dripping hair, sending droplets over me. “Now? Beautiful seems too small a word. I could look at you forever, Mac.”
His gaze travels up, taking in my stomach, which isn’t a board, but smooth enough, and lingers on my boobs, average size with pale pink nipples that point upward. The heat in his eyes has my breasts growing heavy, aching at the tips, and I arch my back a little, lifting them closer to him.
He grunts, a sort of “unh” breath of sound, and his broad chest hitches. Slowly, like it has a mind of its own, his hand lifts. The blunt tip of his finger touches my nipple, catching up a bead of water, and I feel it to my toes. I almost sink to the floor when he puts that long finger in his mouth and slowly sucks it.
Gray makes a little hum of pleasure and smiles. His large hand, so perfect for clutching a football and protecting it until he enters the end zone, engulfs my breast, swallows it whole. Warm, callused palms and strong fingers. The way he gently kneads my breast feels so good I can’t breathe properly. His gaze is slumberous and hot on what he’s doing to me.
And God, he’s beautiful, his body so tight. Perfection. How am I supposed to keep from devouring every substantial inch of him? And then I realize I don’t have to refrain. He’s mine now. My hands are on him before I can think, running along his broad chest, over the small nubs of his nipples and down the hard planes of his abs. Jesus, he feels good.
Gray shudders, his head falling to my shoulder so he can nuzzle my neck. “More. Touch me, Mac. Please.”
The blunt length of his erection brushes my belly. It’s like a brand, catching all my attention. And I haven’t even had my hands on it.
Without another thought, I sink to my knees and my mouth catches the tip his cock, drawing it in before he can utter a word. The large head is smooth and hot, swollen so tight that it throbs against the roof of my mouth. I give it a slow suck, and a helpless gurgle leaves Gray’s lips. His palms slap against the tiles as he braces himself, that long, lean body of his bunching with tension.
“Ivy… Sweet Jesus.”
My thoughts exactly. He’s big, and there’s no way I’m getting all of him in my mouth. God, but I’m tempted. He’s beautiful, substantial, and so hard there’s no give to him. My fingers wrap around his base, squeezing, testing his strength. Gray whimpers, his hips shifting a bit as if he’s trying to hold still.
I glance up at him. His muscled torso curves over me, a shelter from the water raining down on his back. Our eyes meet and his expression slays me—pleasure, tenderness, hesitation, as if he isn’t sure how far to take things.
Give me all of you, I tell him with my eyes. Don’t hold back. I want everything.
His throat works on a swallow. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as he begins to move. In and out, a slow, long glide. “You want a taste of me, huh?” The whisper echoes though the shower. “Open that mouth wider and let me in so you can get it good.” My jaw aches as I do as he says, taking him deep, and Gray grunts, his cock twitching in my mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck, like that. You like me filling up your mouth?”
I hum, jerk his cock with my hand as I suck him. And he shudders, his voice growing raspy. “You know how many times I stood in a shower, fucking my hand while pretending it was your hot little mouth, Ivy?” He pauses as if remembering, a look of raw pleasure twisting his lips. Then his hips twitch. “Fuck, honey. Don’t. Don’t stop.”
I couldn’t if I tried. I have a vivid imagination, and I’ve thought of doing this to Gray. A lot. I let myself play, do all the things I’ve wanted for far too long.
All the while, Gray makes a gasping, almost pained sound as he pumps between my lips, the movement restrained, shaking in its intensity. He’s drawing this out, letting me torture him. It makes me so hot that I close my eyes, pull him in, run my tongue over every inch that I can, show him how much I love this. I’ve done this before, but not like this. Not with Gray, not holding back, savoring every gorgeous inch. And I’ve underestimated how good it would feel to give him pleasure.
Gray. Delicious Gray, whose hard body and hot skin drive me insane. I run my hands up his thighs to cup the taut swells of his ass. God, his ass. It flexes tight with each thrust. I suck harder, faster, and he moans, his body shivering.