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“Nash…” Her voice broke. Desperate. Reverent. “Make me come for you. Please.”
Her back arched again, offering herself up like a prayer, and he lost it.
He grabbed the hem of her shirt and tore it over her head in one swift, savage motion, baring a crimson lace bra that made his vision blur.
She was flushed and breathless, eyes glassy with want, her skin glowing like she’d been lit from within, somewhere between surrender and detonation.
Then she moved.
Fast.
Before he could touch her again, she shoved him back, hard, until his shoulders hit the wall. His breath hitched, half-laugh, half-shock, but before he could react, her hands were on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
With a wicked gleam in her eyes, she growled, “My turn,” and ripped his shirt apart with both hands, buttons scattering like bullets on tile. She pushed it off his shoulders with a low growl of approval, her palms skimming over his chest, down the ridges of his abs.
When she raked her nails over his skin, his hips bucked against her with a curse, his cock throbbing so hard it hurt.
Her fingers dipped lower, cupping him through his jeans, squeezing gently, then sliding down to roll his balls in her cupped palm.
He nearly blacked out.
“Ya Allah, Grace?—”
His mouth parted, but then her lips were on his throat, biting, kissing, dragging heat across his skin. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him there, like she needed her mouth on him to breathe.
“Fuck, Grace…”
She smiled against his neck and moved lower, her mouth grazing across his collarbone, then licking a path down to his chest.
When she found his nipple, she bit, just enough to make his hips jolt forward. He groaned, head knocking back against the wall as she soothed the sting with her tongue, breath ragged.
He barely registered her hands working his belt, but he felt the metal release, felt his pants drop as she crouched, dragging both jeans and boxers down in one swift motion.
His cock sprang free, thick, flushed, throbbing desperately for her mouth, and the sight of her there, on her knees, staring up at him with flushed cheeks and messy hair, nearly broke him. “Grace, I need your mouth, fuck me with that beautiful mouth,” he whispered giving her everything inside him, open, vulnerable, hers.
Her body heaved, her eyes tender and raging with need. Then she clamped over the aching tip. He choked on his own breath.
Her tongue swirled once, slow, filthy, and then she sucked him in deeper, one hand curling around the base while the other slid up to massage his balls.
“Fuck, Grace. Fuck—” His dick throbbed violently, so hard it hurt to delay it, but he needed this. Neededherlike this. Sucking him with that beautiful mouth like he’d begged, taking all of him…sheownedhim and she knew it.
His hands tangled in her hair, hips twitching as she worked him over with exquisite control. He looked down at her, barely able to breathe, his whole body shuddering with the restraint it took not to come right then and there.
But he didn’t want to finish.
He wanted toconsume.
With a guttural sound, he pulled her up by the shoulders and spun her, pressing her back to the same wall she’d just used on him.
He didn’t wait.
Didn’t ask.
He slipped his hand beneath the delicate lace, dragging the cup down to bare one perfect breast. Then he took her nipple between his lips, sucked hard, then soothed it with a flick of his tongue before biting gently, just enough to make her moan.
While his mouth worked her nipple, his fingers slipped between her thighs again, finding her clit like it was his to own.
He moved with ruthless precision, tight, controlled circles designed to dismantle her, while his other hand slid to her lower back, locking her against him.