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She whimpered, hips grinding down against his hand, his mouth, his body, everything.
Then, breathless, reverent, ragged, he spoke against her nipple, the words vibrating through her in a hot, dirty hum.
“Inti jameela jiddan lama tinqithi ‘ashani.”You’re so fucking beautiful when you come for me.
She gasped, shocked and shattered, her head tipping back, her body starting to shake.
His fingers never stopped.
His mouth dragged to her throat.
She broke.
Hard.
Her orgasm slammed into her like a wave cresting too fast, too high, her cry punching the air as her hips bucked, thighs trembling, breath lost. She sobbed his name as her body convulsed around nothing and everything, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Nash nearly lost it.
But instead of letting go, he pushed her further, grinding the heel of his hand against her clit while holding her still.
“Eyes on me,” he growled, lifting his head, his voice rough with need.
Her gaze snapped to his, wide and glassy and full of stunned, sacred fire.
“I want to see you lose it again…for me, Grace. All for me.” Her eyes were deep, green wells of passion and desire. “Are you aching for me as much as I’m dying for you?” he whispered.
“Nash,” she murmured. “God, yes,” she breathed. “Yes, yes, God yes,”
“Give it to me. Give everything. I want everything.” His words just as much a sensual goad as his fingers and his mouth, she gasped, hips trembling, head thrown back as the orgasm slammed into her and pulled her under. “Nashir,” she sobbed his full name, striking him to his core as she possessed him body and soul, clinging to him, her entire body worshipping him.
A second release tore through her with brutal elegance, her back arching, mouth slack, breath catching as she came undone all over again, clutching his body like he was the only solid thing left in the world. Nash groaned at the feel of her silky heat, the way she writhed for him, because of him. It jacked him all the way up. He wasso fucking gone. Nash watched every second of it. Devoured it. Her, undone, was the most powerful thing he’d ever witnessed.
They were both panting now, foreheads pressed, mouths brushing, drunk on heat and breath and the raw, perfect sound of shared hunger.
“You have no idea,” he whispered raggedly, “what that did to me.”
He’d missed her so much, the silence, the time it took her to figure out where she was headed and he was so goddamned grateful it was here, with him in DC.
She stood, bare and slick for him from those climaxes, the red lace of her panties discarded like a flag at her feet. She pressed against him, one beautiful breast free, the other still trapped in that fiery lace, brushing his chest, her mouth teasing along his jaw as she rolled her hips once, slow and deliberate, against the rigid length jutting up between them, his flesh caught between his taut body, and her hot, silky skin. The pressure and sensation nearly undid him.
He didn’t say a word. Just held her. Let her pulse settle around his fingers, let her heartbeat echo in his chest like it belonged there. Then she looked up at him, and everything changed.
He crushed her hard against the wall, her body flush against his. She looked up at him, her eyes soft and wide, glowing with everything she felt, everything she’d kept locked down was gone. Then she leaned in and kissed him.
It was deep and molten and full ofeverything he’d asked for—the gratitude, the hunger, the aching truth of how much she loved him. Her mouth moved over his with a kind of desperation, like she was pouring her heart into him one breath at a time.
She kissed him savagely with a primal abandonment, confident that he belonged to only her. Her fingers threaded into his hair, holding him close, her body pressing flush to his as her tongue slid against his with exquisite tenderness, and heat, and longing that made him groan into her mouth.
He felt it, every ounce of her affection, every broken piece she’d put back together just to offer him…herself.
By the time she finally pulled back, breath ragged, lips swollen, his heart wasn’t just pounding. It washers.
He could’ve come just from that kiss. From the way she poured her soul into his mouth like she wasn’t afraid anymore. She didn’t have to say it. He already knew. He was hers.
He groaned as she rolled her hips against his cock again, and when her hand wrapped around him again, stroking him slowly, he barely held on.
“Grace,” he growled, his voice wrecked.