Secrets, Lies, and Summer Skies

Chapter Thirty-Two

Excitement charged through my veins like lightning when I stood from Grayson.

Provoking a man who was so much stronger than me might have been a mistake in any other situation, but when we were in the bedroom and I was a glutton for the sexual punishments he doled out, it was anything but.

I was ready to drop to my knees when Grayson interjected, "I didn't tell you to do anything but get off my lap."

I froze in place and clenched my hands into fists at my sides. I didn't know what he meant me to do. He'd told me I was going to choke on his cock, but I couldn't see any other means of us doing that. It wasn't like he'd furnished his room with some massive sex swing we could make use of. A pity because I'd had fantasies about trying some more extreme methods of fucking Grayson. Honestly, given how many women he'd casually dated and slept with, I was surprised he hadn't taken me into a perverse, sadistic playroom the moment we'd walked through the door.

Grayson rose from the bed and gestured toward it. "Lie on your back, head hanging over the edge."

Blood rushed to my center with such speed that it left me lightheaded. Dazed, I didn't even think about slipping out of my dress before I crawled onto the sheets and turned around. I didn't know how far over the edge he wanted me, but I trusted Grayson could make the adjustments necessary for whatever he had in mind.

He watched me as he unfastened his belt and dropped his pants and boxers. From my vantage point, I waited and stared as he methodically worked his fingers over his shirt, taking the time to unfasten every button. There was no urgency to him. It was his house. His domain. No one was going to walk in and interrupt us. We didn't have a time limit. If he wanted, he could torture me until the early hours. Eke out every minute of our sex play before he finally fucked me and bestowed the final release that I ached for.

Every time his magnificent body was on display felt like the first time. I'd never get tired of tracing the lines of his chest, nor of committing every freckle and mole to memory. Even if we didn't last, I wanted to look back on our time together and remember what had once been mine. That this perfectly sculpted specimen of a man had dedicated himself to my pleasure alone. I couldn't imagine that anyone else would match up to Grayson, but I appreciated that in our short time together, I'd been more sexually satisfied than most people felt in their entire lives.

Grayson's cock stood thick, curving upward slightly, ready to plunge into my depths. Slowly, Grayson stroked his hand down over his length. I wanted to reach out and touch him. It wasn't fair that he could get off just staring at my body while I laid vulnerable and on display for his pleasure, while he'd probably order me to keep my hands to myself if I dared to stroke my pussy in kind. My fingers itched with the temptation to defy him. To act without orders. The thought that he might spank me for my misbehavior made me almost giddy with delight.

"Whatever you're thinking, Chaise, put it out of your head. Unless I give you an order, you don't fucking move."

My cheeks burned and it had nothing to do with the way my head and shoulders hung from the end of the bed. Grayson took a step closer, his dick so close that my breath washed over it. Pre-come glistened at its head and I wet my lips in anticipation.

The bed was tall enough that, when he inched closer, my face was equal height with his cock. I had to wonder if Grayson had bought the furniture with something like this in mind. It seemed almost too perfect a situation to have been a coincidence. Without another word, he reached down to cradle the back of my head, positioning the alignment of my neck in such a way that he had a clear, straight path from my lips and down my throat.

"Open your mouth, Chaise. If it's too much, hit my thigh, and I'll pull out."

It was with no small measure of nervousness that my lips parted. Grayson pressed his cock to the opening until my mouth was wide enough to accommodate his girth. Slowly, he inched his length past my teeth, trapping my tongue between it and the bottom of my mouth. Usually, he'd stop, knowing that it was impossible to gain more depth while I was in a kneeling position. This time, there was no such barrier. Instead, he adjusted the angle of my head, tilting it here and there until he had the ideal path to gain those precious extra fractions of an inch, claiming them slowly until I was at my limit and my eyes began to water.