Chapter 36

Righting himself between my legs and sitting back on his heels, Grant takes a second to look me over. His eyes hold a promise of pleasure to come, even as they alight with a hunger that makes me keen my hips towards him.

Even without his gravity power, I’m drawn to him. My hands, now freed from his restraint, rove up his powerful thighs as he kneels between me.

I just want him.

I want us.

We belong together.

“I really want to be inside you, now.” Grant flexes his hands and holds them back.

“Fuck, yes.”

Grant’s hands twitch forward, but he holds them back.

“It’s just… I go a bit insane when I’m inside you.”

“Fuck, yes,” I repeat, hoping this time he goes for it.

Releasing a slow, ragged breath, Grant runs his hand through his hair. Sweat has begun to bead on his forehead, so his hair clings together for a moment after he pushes it back. For a second, he looks how he did when we first met.

“I’m serious. When I got all lasered at work, something changed inside me. You’re my new gravity. I’m pulled towards you. Everything is about you. I’m just worried that if I get too close, I’ll get too intense and scare you off.”

“Sometimes you just have to go for it,” I say, like I’m the expert and not the person with the worst possible track record at trusting people to stay with me. “You just have to jump.”

Grant moves towards me and pulls back. “It’s just, when I was fingering you earlier it was like this need to consume you exploded inside me and—” He pauses, looking me over. “What are you doing?”

What I’m doing is moving things along. I know when negotiations aren’t going anywhere, and new tactics need to be employed.

Grant is spiraling, spiraling in a way that can’t be broken by words. No, words and thinking are what sucked him into this vicious vortex. He needs actions.

More specifically, me touching myself.

Grant groans, but doesn’t take his eyes off me. He watches my fingers circle my clit with an intensity that burns my skin.

“I think I’ve been teased enough. You said you were waiting until I fell for you. Well, I fell. Hard. Now what? You’re afraid I’m going to run? Because you’re too intense? I jumped off a building today to make a point. There’s nothing in the world that’s too intense for me.”

“Want to bet?” Grant asks, his nostrils flaring.

I don’t have time to answer.

A heartbeat later, his gravitational power has me up off the bed and up against the wall. Suspended with my back against the wall, Grant moves into the place between my legs, still kneeling on the bed. My pussy is at the perfect height for him to dive into.

“You want this?” he asks, biting his lower lip while staring at my dripping pussy.

“Fuck, yes.”

The third time’s the charm.

Without wasting a single second, he moves forward and devours my soaking sex. From all his teasing, my clit is absolutely swollen and pulsing with need. The feel of his tongue and the brush of his teeth against it, is enough to make me cry out.

My yell only encourages him. He sucks and licks at my clit with a frenzy that has me shaking.

Even though I’m mostly pinned with his gravitational redirection against the wall, my body starts to sag from overstimulation. The feeling of a constant buzzing under my skin, along with jolts of pleasure through my body, have me vibrating and bucking with need.

Not pausing in the slightest, Grant runs a hand up one of my dangling legs and wraps it around the back of his head. Then, he does the same with the other. The feeling of his hand scorches up my leg. I pull him impossibly closer to my center, while resting my legs on his shoulders.

With the new support, I take a deep breath in.

I can handle this.

At least, that’s what I think before he puts his fingers in me.

Giving my clit a knee-clenching suck, he plunges two fingers easily into my slippery core. Each thrust of his fingers brings me higher and higher—both literally and figuratively. Though I’m barely aware of it, we both start to rise higher and higher off the bed.

As Grant curls and fucks his fingers into me, his mouth continues to lick and suck. I ride his face in an uncontrolled frenzy, just needing to be closer to him. My legs are vices around his head and my fingers are hooks in his hair.

Even as I yell out for more, my body reaches out for it. Legs, fingers, hips, everything about me reaches out to him to make us as close as possible.

“More,” I scream in an uncontrolled way that I’ve never felt. I’m not even sure he has more to give. He’s tonguing me with a snarling ferocity that makes my clit thrum with an almost painful delight. He’s truly unleashed.

Lost to abandon, lost to the pleasure, lost to Grant, I let my orgasm build higher and higher as I scream louder and louder as we float up and up. Everything about us, about us coming together reaches new heights.

But it’s the lightness in my heart that lifts to a new place.

I’ve never felt so unburdened. Free to just ride whatever goodness comes my way.

When my orgasm reaches its crescendo, it’s like the pleasure cracks through some restrictive veneer. I scream out once more as Grant slaps at my throbbing pussy with the pads of his fingers. The jolt forces one more crackling wave of ecstasy from me that I would’ve thought was impossible.

Warmth, happiness, and rapture flow through me as Grant and I slowly lower to his bed.

Happiness hums through my body like a long-lost friend. There on Grant’s cartoon sheets, in his tender arms, I finally feel satisfied.

Sexually, yes.

But also something deeper. For once, I don’t feel the itch to be productive, to move, to get ahead. I just want to lie here forever, basking in the glow of being truly loved.

At least until I hear the creak from above.

Grant and I both freeze.

“Grant,” I hiss. “Is your mother home?”

Grant’s eyes go wide in a way that might be funny if I wasn’t a fun combination of mortified and furious.

Beside him on his nightstand, his phone pings. His eyes wander over to his display before snapping back to me.

“Is that your mom?”

Grant runs his hand through his hair. “Is lying still off the table?”

I throw a pillow over my face and will the reset to start early. It’s funny to think that just a couple of hours ago, I was jumping off cliffsides while giving the finger to a man who probably has ‘evil deeds’ listed as a hobby on his dating profile. Now, I’m hoping to spontaneously combust rather than face Grant’s mom after she heard she yell ‘more’ god knows how many times.

“I’m sorry. I just went a bit crazy after you jumped and then I got inside you and really wasn’t thinking…” Grant babbles along with a hundred other variations on sorry.

His phone pings again.

This time, when Grant reads the message he groans—and not in the good way that he was doing earlier.

“What?” I ask.

He takes a deep breath before he answers me. “My mom says that she heard I have a friend over and wants to know if you want to come up for dinner.”

I freeze.

Is it too late for me to text Reinhold my exact location along with a list of my fears? If he kidnaps me and tortures me, I wouldn’t have to answer this question. Who knows? Maybe I’d even get lucky and he’d kill me right away.

Dead girls don’t have to attend awkward dinners.

“I’ll just text her and tell her you can’t stay.” He picks up his phone. “What was I thinking bringing you here? Stupid.” He mutters the last part to himself.

But I hear it.

No, I listen.

I listen and I see. His cheeks are fully flushed pink as he types away on his phone. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, though. I should be. Dr. Debbie has a whole chapter on shame. I should have picked up on this earlier.

Placing my hand over his texting hand, I utter the biggest lie I’ve ever told—which is saying something considering what I do for a living.

“I’d love to have dinner with your mother.”

Grant visibly relaxes, the blush fading from his cheeks. It’s a good thing too. Between his raging erection and his flushed cheeks, I’m not entirely certain the rest of his body was getting enough blood.

“You’re amazing,” Grant mutters, looking up at me with eyes so vulnerable, my heart breaks a little.

“So are you,” I answer. This time, there’s not a trace of a lie.