Page 55 of Teach Me Your Ways

Me. I was going to come. Hard. I didn’t need any foreplay. The last month had been foreplay. I was probably going to last all of ten seconds before I fell apart.

Then his hands were on my thighs, spreading them wider. I felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against me. We locked eyes as he pushed inside, both of us groaning at the sensation. He was big—bigger than I had ever had. The stretch was almost overwhelming. Painful in the best way.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathed against my ear, holding still to let me adjust. “So fucking perfect.”

But I didn’t want gentle. I didn’t want slow. I wanted him to fuck me like the world was ending, like this was our last night on earth. I rolled my hips, taking him deeper, and his control shattered completely.

He pulled back and thrust hard, setting a punishing rhythm that had me crying out with each stroke. The counter was the perfect height, letting him drive into me at an angle that hit every nerve ending I had. My nails raked down his back as I held on for dear life.

“Yes,” I gasped, my head falling back as pleasure built low in my belly. “God, yes, just like that.”

He buried his face in my neck, teeth scraping against my throat as he pounded into me. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, obscene and perfect. I was already close, wound so tightly I could barely breathe.

I reached back and felt the fruit basket a second too late. It clattered to the floor and the fruit went all over but neither of us stopped.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded roughly. “I want to see you.”

I slipped a hand between us, fingers finding my clit, and he continued to thrust. The dual sensation was too much. Within seconds, I was flying apart, my orgasm crashing over me in waves so intense I saw stars. I cried out his name as my body clenched around him.

“Fuck, Cece,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering.

He came with a harsh shout. His hips jerked as he emptied himself inside me. His grunts echoed in my ears. His head rested against mine. We were both breathing like we had just run a marathon. I could safely say fucking on a kitchen counter was a new one for me.

Grady grabbed me around the waist and helped me off the counter. “Get a drink,” he said gruffly. “I’ll be back in a minute. And then I’m going to fuck you again.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head with his declaration. “But⁠—”

“I’m not finished with you,” he said as he disappeared down the hall.

I couldn’t stop the flutter in my chest. “What do you have to drink?”

“Beer is in the fridge,” he said.

I felt a little awkward walking naked to his kitchen, but after being sprawled bare assed on his counter, we were done with bashfulness.

I grabbed two cold beers from the fridge, hyperaware of how my nipples hardened almost painfully. My entire body was still humming from what had just happened, already anticipating what he’d promised was coming next.

The sound of running water came from down the hall, and I found myself staring at the scattered apples and oranges on his kitchen floor. I considered cleaning it up, but I should probably wash my hands before handling food.

When he returned, he was still gloriously naked, and I nearly dropped both beer bottles at the sight of him. His cock was already half hard again, and the predatory look in his eyes made my core clench with renewed need.

He took one of the beers from my trembling hands and set both bottles on the counter without opening them. Then his hands were on me again, sliding up my sides to cup my breasts.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he murmured, thumbs circling my aching nipples. “About having you in my bed, making you scream my name.”

“Then take me to bed,” I whispered, amazed at my own boldness.

He chuckled before running his thumb across my bottom lip. “I don’t think you’re the missionary type, are you, Cece?”

The weird thing about his question was that’s exactly what I thought I was. Until him.

I watched as he pulled open a drawer. It was a junk drawer. He rummaged around and pulled out a condom.

“You keep condoms in your kitchen?” I asked.

“No. This one had been in my wallet and I tossed it in here.”

He used his hand to stroke himself until he was fully erect once again. The second he was sheathed, he looked up at me and flashed a wicked grin.