Beyond What is Given

I came apart while he watched.

Grayson slid out from under my thighs while I caught my breath, laying my head on my hands. His clothing landed on the floor, and I heard the condom wrapper tear open before he was at my back.

He pulled me against him, his chest to my back, and his erection slid between my thighs. His grip was tender as he turned my head to the side and kissed my mouth, then whispered in my ear, “I love watching you come, Sam. It’s my favorite part of making love to you.”

“Do you want to know mine?” I asked.

“God, yes.”

“That first moment you sink inside me, when I have you. All of you. All of your attention, your body, your trust…you.” I rocked my hips back into him.

He nudged my entrance. “Like this?” And he eased into me inch by inch.

I moaned, my head falling back against his shoulder. “Yes.”

“You always have all of me, Sam. Every second I’m breathing, I’m yours.” Then he thrust home, burying himself completely.

I called out his name, and he kissed me again, stroking his tongue against mine in the same rhythm he kept as he thrust into me. “Headboard,” he whispered, and I complied, leaning away from him to grasp the frame.

“So damn sexy. I love seeing you like this.” His fingers dug into my hips, leaving what I was sure would be bruises, but I didn’t care. He started a rhythm that had me keening as he hit a spot. This angle was almost too much.

“More!” I cried out, pushing back to meet him with each thrust. So good. So, so good. My muscles tensed, locked. “Grayson…I need…I need…”

He growled and pushed into me one more time before pulling completely out. I almost cried at the loss. He flipped me to my back like my weight was nothing, lifted my legs over his shoulders, and kissed me as he slid back inside.

“I need to see you,” he panted against my lips. “Fuck, Sam. I love the way you feel around me.” He began a punishing rhythm, steady and hard. I kept one hand on his shoulders and the other braced against the headboard for leverage.

He cupped my cheek, dragging his thumb across my lower lip. “You were made for me.”

His declaration cut free the last of the ties holding me back. He consumed everything about me, my body, my mind, my heart. His eyes caressed me, tearing through the last of my defenses to reach my very soul. He was over me, inside me, around me until there was nothing but Grayson and the overwhelming love that burned like the most addictive drug. A love that demanded to be known and was strong enough not to need reciprocity.

I gasped, holding his stare. “I love you, Grayson. I’m in love with you.”

He paused, his chest heaving, a myriad of emotions I couldn’t name passing over his face as he searched my eyes. “Sam—”

“Don’t,” I whispered, smiling through the tears that slipped free. “Just let me love you. I don’t need anything else.” Don’t ruin this.

He kissed me deep, sweetly, but with enough heat to burn the house down around us, and then changed his rhythm as he made love to me.

Slowly, powerfully, he stroked us both to completion, taking his time to build the sweetest pressure I’d ever felt. I cried out his name, and he kissed me as I came, riding me through my orgasm until it kicked back in aftershocks that jolted me.

Then he joined me, shuddering over me as I held him. My fingers played between his shoulder blades, dipping into the hollow. When he regained his breath, he kissed me, then left to clean up.

I should have been worried, right? I’d laid my soul bare and then instructed him not to do the same. I should have been horrified that my love most likely wasn’t returned, that I still wore a second-place ribbon, but I wasn’t. I was too full of love for him, joy that I’d found the courage to tell him, to worry about spoiling it.

He came back to bed and pulled me into him, wrapping himself around me. “Sam. You…you’re everything.”

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