“Let me down,” she breathes. My fingers tighten into her ass, automatically fighting the command. I don’t want her out of my arms. Where CC is concerned, I find I react very much like a caveman. “Gray,” she whimpers, her hips thrusting against me. Her need is heavy in her voice. “I need to feel my skin against yours.” Her words somehow seep through the fog in my brain, the same brain that demands I take her but is too lust-filled to work out the logistics.
I gather her one last time against my body, angling and tilting her so that her pussy is aligned perfectly with my dick and then I grind into her. Even through our clothes, I know she can feel how hard and ready I am. I want her to know exactly what she’s doing to me. Her hands have moved and I can feel her nails bite into my back as she struggles to remain tightly pressed against me—not wanting to let go—just like me. Finally, she takes control and pushes away from me and I’m forced to set her on the floor. My hands feel empty and I’m tempted to keep one hand on her as she undresses, except I need my own clothes out of the way. I immediately go to work unbuttoning my pants and pushing them from my body. I kick them somewhere, not really giving a fuck. I’m just thankful I had the foresight to take off my shoes when I first got here.
When I look back up, CC has already undressed except for her bra and panties: little pieces of dark blue silk that cling to her body and highlight the creamy white skin perfectly. I don’t think I took the time to admire her body the first time we were together. That was a haze of lust and the buzz of alcohol. This is different. This time the lust is still here, but I’m stone cold sober and the truth is: I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. Everything about her is perfect from the way her hips curve out into an hourglass figure to the perfect rise of her breasts, which move with every hard breath she takes and overfilling that silky bra. Perfect and mine to play with.
I drop to my knees in front of her without a second thought. I’ve made a lifetime of making women get on their knees to please me. This is just another thing that sets CC apart.
“Gray?” she whispers.
Her hands go to my shoulders. They feel small against the muscles there—small but perfect. My arms go around her, pulling her into me, and I kiss her stomach. Warm, soft skin brushes against my lips and I taste her delicate, sugary sweetness with a kick of something that hits my system and grabs hold of me like nothing before—and, I fear, nothing after. Pure CC.
“Shh…” I quiet her, letting my lips trail down the small area to the rim of her panties and breathe in the scent of her desire. Slowly, I push her panties down, revealing her pussy to me. I kiss down one hip and then the other. Greedy woman that CC is, her fingers curl into my hair and she does her best to pull me tight against her. I resist, but only because I plan on showing her who exactly is in charge. I push her underwear down, letting them pool at her ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart,” I encourage her, moving my hands along the backs of her legs. Once she does, I push my head between her legs. She widens her stance for me, but growls in frustration when I don’t immediately give her what she wants. Instead, I find myself kissing along the side of her knee, tasting the skin there. The taste is much the same as her sweet lips with just a hint of salty flavor mixed in. I run my tongue along her thigh, moving closer to the center of her—the part where we both want my mouth. I know she feels the same because of the way she’s trying to ride the side of my head, thrusting that sweet pussy towards me. She’s hungry and full of need and I’m going to make sure I give her exactly what she wants… except it’ll be at my pace.
I capture a small bite of her thigh between my lips, sucking on it. I make a mark there. I can tell by the small pop when I release suction, and I love the look of her darkened red skin almost as much as the hiss of breath she releases above me. I move my tongue over the skin, licking it, rewarding it for taking my mark.
“Gray… son…”
CC uses my full name, stopping halfway to moan so it comes out broken in half and something about that grabs hold of me. It makes me feel powerful that I’m doing this to her. It’s my touch, my lips, me who is making her let go of her control. Since I’ve been in Kentucky, one thing is clear to me: CC rarely lets down her guard or gives up control, yet she does both of those things with me. Both.
I nibble up her thigh, pulling just enough to let her know I’m there and what I’m doing. It’s not designed for anything other than teasing. I groan as a fresh wave of her desire hits me, calling me. My hands clench against the backs of her thighs as I bite a little harder, pulling the skin out this time before letting go completely and kissing away the sting.
“Gray, please,” she whispers.