Gray pulled her to her feet, held her until he was sure she’d found her balance. She kept most of her weight on one leg, her hands braced, one on the back tiled wall, the other on the glass wall.
Arms out, her breasts seemed gifted to him, and he couldn’t resist a quick caress, feeling the roundness, the supple give when he squeezed, the hard nipples straining beneath the lace. Her back arched, pressing into his palms and Gray gave a final squeeze, a quick pinch, a gentle tug.
He knelt, hooked his fingers on the waistband of her sweats, catching her panties as well, and drew them down over her hips.
He teased them both, pulling slow over the round of her hips until the first reddish curls peeked over the edge. A little lower and he could see the top slit of her *. He stopped, leaned in and flicked his tongue in the crease.
She gasped. He pushed his tongue firmer between the lips, tasting her cream even as he found her clit.
She moaned, tried to open her legs further, but her sweats held her. She curved her hips, pressing her sex into his face and Gray breathed her in.
No sugar here, but plenty of spice and the heady scent of woman. Sweet Jeezus, he could live in that scent. His teasing, slow reveal had suddenly become a torture. He yanked her sweats to her ankles and only remembered her injured calf when she cringed.
“Shit. Maizie…”
“Fine. I’m fine. Don’t stop. Please God…” She lifted one foot free and opened wide, grabbed his head and pulled his face to her *.
Gray smiled even as he drew his tongue from the opening at her sex up to her clit. She moaned loud with the feel of his mouth on her and so he did it again. It was most likely the virus that made her so bold, but he didn’t care. He liked it. A lot.
The tops of her inner thighs were wet, her curls glistening, and Gray slipped his finger between her swollen flesh, finding the tight slick entrance. Her muscles pulsed, gripped his finger and welcomed a second, her cream hot on the back of his knuckles. She was on fire, so needy he fought to take things slow, to please her before he gave in and fucked her so hard she’d scream his name. Every primal instinct inside him hammered his brain, so he could hardly think, barely see straight.
He spread the hood of her lips from her clit, flicking the plump nub with his tongue, making her body quiver even as her * milked his fingers. Her hips rocked against him, riding his hand, driving his fingers deeper. He arched his fingers inside her, curved along her channel to find the spot that made her head fall back, her eyes close and her hips set a frantic pace.
Her hand fisted the hair at the back of his head. “There. Right there. Yes.”
He latched onto her clit, sucked and toyed, pulling the juicy flesh into his mouth, coaxing the small spasm trembling through her muscles into a full-on orgasm.
“Gray…” She fell back. He caught her, his fingers still pumping her *, his mouth still suckling her clit until her hips slowed, her hand in his hair went slack and the last spasm of her sex fluttered around his fingers.
Dear Lord he wanted her to come again. He leaned in, mouth open, gaze flicking up to her face. The back of her shoulders leaned against the wall, her body angled out to him where his arm still held her around her ass. Maizie’s eyes were closed, her face flush, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. She needed a moment to recover.
Gray couldn’t resist one last playful bite on her * as he pulled his fingers out of her. She squirmed a little, made a soft laugh.
She was utterly pliant to his touch, not even opening her eyes when he stood and removed her bra. He tossed it over the glass wall then turned and set the temperature for the shower. It’d turn on when the water in the pipes had warmed enough. The process took less than two minutes.
He stood shielding her from the sudden rush of hot water that would come. She had yet to open her eyes or let her pretty smile falter. He stared at her, the pale creaminess of her skin, the delicate features of her face. Long reddish eyelashes, nearly translucent, shadowed almost-there freckles high on her cheeks.
Lips so soft that rose petals couldn’t compare, bowed with a smile that flipped his heart, made him happy to be a man. When had Granny’s Little Red become such an enchanting woman?