“Turn over,” I instruct her and she grins before rolling over onto her stomach.
My fingertips lightly move across her back and her sides and I kiss the tattoo on the back of her neck, now understanding the meaning of the inscription. I move my fingers to the side of her breast, teasing her, while my lips and tongue trace over her shoulder blades before moving down along her spine. She whimpers when I end at her ass. Bringing both my hands slowly down her body, I place my fingers around her hips, propping her up to her knees. I gently move my finger along her slit before I insert my middle finger, feeling how ready she already is. I pull my finger out, massaging the wetness around her clit and folds.
“More, Grant, please,” she begs, and I insert my pointer finger along with the middle finger. She moans loudly and unable to take it slow any longer, I turn her over. Her hands grab my ass, ready to pull my cock into her, but I hold off. Just as the tip of my dick touches her opening, I admire her below me and then I gently thrust into her.
Moving my hips in small circles, I lay on top of her, kissing her thoroughly. We don’t say anything dirty to each other or use rough hands. It’s the most intimate I’ve ever been with someone. I pray this doesn’t end badly, because I could stay like this for the rest of my life and be content. Soon she starts bucking a little faster against me, and I respond by thrusting harder into her. Before I realize it, she’s breathlessly repeating my name and I’m murmuring how much I love her against her neck. We both find our release a few seconds apart and I fall next to her, bringing her to my chest and beginning to rub small circles on her back.
“Thanks, Grant,” she says, and I place my finger under her chin so she’s looking at me.
“For what?” I ask.
“For doing that…going slow. It made me feel desirable and wanted,” she says, her eyes filled with hope and love. A wide grin spreads across my face and I’m happy that I made her feel the way she deserves to feel.
“Baby, you’re sexy as hell and desirable…I would’ve thought you’d have figured that out over the past month since I haven’t been able to keep my hands off you,” I say, trying to convince her.
“I’ve never been like that with someone before.” She nuzzles even closer to my neck, kissing it lightly.
“Get used to it. I’m not going anywhere.” The selfish bastard in me is ecstatic that I was able to be her first at something.
Jessa
“I’m starving…you want one of Mrs. Fletcher’s muffins?” Grant asks.
I throw on his t-shirt and he grabs his pants and we make our way out to the kitchen. Our bags are still in the truck, but I’m not about to ask him to go out there to get them now. He tosses a note from the basket on the table and grabs two muffins. I’m standing in front of the fridge perusing its contents when he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my body and kissing my neck. I reach my hand to the back of his neck to keep him there, taking pleasure in the feel of his lips.
Picking up his head, he rests his chin on my shoulder, and I’m suddenly struck by the thought of living happily ever after here with him. “I still can’t believe you own this house,” I say to him.
“I rent it out most of the year,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
I grab some eggs out of the fridge, along with the milk. Looking through the cupboards, Grant opens one up and hands me the frying the pan.
“Sit. It’s time I cater to you a little,” I tell him and he hops up on the counter. His chest is chiseled and his muscles, bulging, but when his arms are around me, I’ve never felt safer.
“Whatcha making?” he asks in a childish voice. He reaches out to grab at me, but I laugh and sidestep his attempts.
“If you can keep those hands to yourself for a few minutes, I’ll make you an omelet.”
“You usually like it when I have my hands on you,” he says with a smirk, getting a hold of his shirt that I’m wearing and yanking me back. When I fall between his legs, his lips smash into mine, sending a surge of heat from my head to my toes.
“Okay, no more until I finish,” I joke, waving my finger at him. I put the frying pan down and turn on the burner. The butter sizzles in the pan as I crack the eggs in the bowl. I poke the yolks and start beating them, adding in some milk.
“Man…I like this view,” he says, leaning back on his hands.
“What view?” I ask, walking to the fridge and opening it. I look around inside and, seeing that there aren’t any vegetables in the drawers, I grab some cheese which will have to do.
“You…cooking in my kitchen while wearing my shirt,” he says, smiling over to me.
“I have to admit, I like cooking for you. I’m not usually happy being so…domesticated,” I tease, pouring the eggs into the pan. I start to search the drawers for a spatula but can’t seem to find one.
“Uh hum.” Grant smirks, holding the handle of the drawer that is currently between his legs. I walk over, attempting to conceal my grin. Putting my hand on the knob, I start to pull the drawer open. “Are you sure that’s the handle you’re looking for?” he teases and I playfully roll my eyes.
“Well, it’s smaller than I’m used to,” I say and shrug my shoulders. I pull on the drawer, but Grant shuts it with his legs. “Um, the eggs are going to burn,” I inform him.
“You have to give me something to get it,” he says, leaning forward with his lips puckered out. I get on my tiptoes and kiss him. “Here you go.” He opens the drawer for me and hands me the spatula.
“You’re trouble,” I kid and he chuckles. I go back over to the stovetop and run the spatula along the inside of the pan, add my cheese, and then flip it all over before placing it on the plate that Grant has gotten out for me. Turning off the burner, I walk toward him, resting between his legs. I take a forkful and place it in front of his face. His mouth opens and I’m watching him so intently that I don’t notice he has a bite resting in front of me.
“Baby,” he says, and I place my mouth around the fork. He studies me as I take the bite off and then lick my lips. “Hot,” he murmurs.
We go back and forth, feeding each other until a string of cheese hangs from his mouth down to his bare chest and I lean forward, taking it into my mouth. I make my way up to his chin, wrapping the string of cheese around my tongue. After swallowing the cheese, I let my lips brush against his and he reaches behind me, grabbing my ass. I hold onto his neck and he pulls me up onto his lap with one firm tug. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his body and his hardness presses against me. He pulls me close, kissing my neck and moving to my ear. “I love you in my shirt, in my kitchen, feeding me,” he faintly speaks before sucking my earlobe into his mouth. A small moan escapes me and he pulls slightly away, “and moaning. I love you in my shirt, in my kitchen, feeding me, and moaning as I touch you. No night will ever compare,” he says.
“Well, then let’s up the ante, shall we?” I squeeze my hands between us, attempting to unbutton his pants.
Before I can get them unzipped, he wraps his arm around my waist and scoots us off the counter, holding me in place. He walks us over to the kitchen table, placing me on the edge. I give his pants a little push with my heels and they fall to the ground around his ankles.
I grab the hem of my shirt to take it off, but he places his large hand on my smaller one. “No, keep it on,” he requests and I nod my head, bringing him down to me. Gently, he pushes me down on the table and his hand runs down from the side of my face, between my breasts, across my stomach, until he finally reaches my sex. His finger skims along my hip and rests just outside my underwear line before he slips two fingers under them, teasing me.