Page 44 of Broken Play (The O’Ryan Family #1)
FORTY-FOUR
SUTTON
When he finally turns back to me, his hair is wild, his lids red-rimmed around a pair of desperate, stormy blue eyes.
Not the poised pro athlete the world expects, but an unguarded, almost wrecked Greyson.
He closes the door behind me but pinches the doorframe with one hand and wraps the other around the back of my neck.
I barely get out, "Where have you—" before he crushes the question with "Why were you with him?" His voice is raw, like he left a piece of himself in Minnesota.
My pulse stutters, and all I can think is, God, why didn't I call him? Why didn't I refuse to sit by Bodhi?
His lips crash against mine. Every doubt.
Every question lies on our tongues. Our kiss is hungry for more than desire, for more than a week of not seeing each other.
It's a plea, an urgent confession of love.
I don't know why his mouth tastes like apologies and heartbreak all in one.
The kiss is the opposite of tender. It's frantic and rough, like he's trying to stitch us back together.
But I didn't know we needed to be sewn up or why .
He pulls away, wetting his lips while hovering over mine. I feel every doubt and every confirmation in his eyes. Greyson says in ragged breaths, "Tell me he kisses you like that. Like his survival depends on your lips. Because that's how I feel. Like only you can heal my scars."
"He never kissed me like that," I admit, sliding my arms around his neck. "I came to kiss you."
He puckers his lips against my cheek. "Did you need to compare?"
"There's no comparison. And I promise I made him understand that I'm taken." He seems to like that answer.
"I think I should remind you." He sucks my bottom lip between his. "You're mine. Whether people know it or not."
His touch is all-consuming—electric and needy, making my smooth skin pop all over with goosebumps. I feel him swallow a laugh as his hands skim my arms. Clothes fly, and the entry hall looks like a tornado hit Macy's.
He bends me over the couch, my fingers digging into the cushions as he slams into me from behind.
Within minutes, I'm already breathless and wanting more.
My inner walls clench, trying to hold him in place.
His tip keeps hitting a spot that drives me to a tipping point, and I can't be still.
I pant, "Yes, more, harder." And he complies.
Greyson fists my hair, tugging my head back as he bends to bite my shoulder, then grazes his teeth over my neck. "Mine. Mine."
His words set off an explosion stronger than anything I've ever felt. He gives me three more orgasms on the bathroom counter and then he takes my last breath in the shower. An unrepentant climax rips through him, and he asks, "In or out? Tell me, now." His voice sounds like he's in agony.
"Don't pull out. "
His hands wander up the back of my thighs, landing on my ass, and he pulls me into his torso. He yells, "Fuuuuck." Hot sperm fills my center. His dick twitches against my slick walls. We'll deal with the consequences later.
Greyson's hands skim up my back until he's cradling my face like a priceless jewel. He stares into my eyes as water rivulets run down his face to his chest. My lips try to catch each and every one. "You, naked, wet, and filled with my cum—so damn sexy."
The corners of his lips tip up into a slow-forming grin. "I love you, Sutton. How did you become my whole world?"