My nipples harden as my breasts press against the cool stone, and Gray wraps a hand around my hair, gathering it in a tight grip near the base of my skull. He tugs hard enough to make my back arch, and as it does, he thrusts into me again, his hips slapping against my ass.
I flail for something to hold on to as he fucks me from behind, but the smooth surface of the island doesn’t give me much. It doesn’t really matter though, because Gray isn’t letting me go anywhere. One hand holds my hips while the other grips my hair, and he pounds into me like he’s trying to prove a point.
The island doesn’t move like the fridge did, and that only lets Gray go even harder. The sound of our bodies slamming together over and over fills the large kitchen, until all I can hear are the debauched noises of our fucking.
The hand in my hair unclenches, and as my body jerks roughly from the force of his thrusts, I feel Gray’s fingertips ghost over the tattoo of the bird on my back. His gentle touch is such a contrast to the way he’s fucking me that it makes goose bumps erupt on my skin. He traces every line of ink before trailing his hand down my spine.
Then he slaps my ass.
Hard.
I let out a loud cry, my pussy clamping down hard around him as the sting of pain floods my body, followed by pure heat.
“Tell me you want me, Sparrow,” Gray grates out. “Tell me you want my cock. Tell me how fucking much you like this.”
There’s something almost desperate in his command, and although I could tell him all of that and more, I keep the words trapped behind my lips. Instead, I crane my neck a little to look over my shoulder at him, loving the way his hair is disheveled and his features tight with effort.
“Tell me how much you like it,” I shoot back. I want to hear his dirty words. I’m addicted to the naked truth in his voice when he fucks me like this, the way everything he says seems torn from the deepest part of his soul.
Gray’s gaze catches mine, and something shifts in his expression. He slaps my ass again, then kneads away the sting, groping me hungrily.
Then he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me upright, pinning my back to his chest as he bends his knees a little. I’m almost sitting on his lap, and I don’t even know how the fuck he has the thigh strength to do this right now. My legs still feel like they could give out at any moment.
One arm keeps me secured tightly to him, holding me up as he drives into me, and his other hand slips down between my legs to circle my clit. His breath tickles my ear as he nuzzles my hair.
“You’re such a fucking fighter,” he murmurs. “But you can’t fight this. Come for me.”
His fingers work my clit harder, the pressure so intense that it crosses the line into pain, but it gets him what he wants. My toes curl against the floor as my body shudders, an orgasm tearing through me like a hurricane.
Gray doesn’t stop fucking me, and his fingers don’t slow down even a little bit, catapulting me from one wave of pleasure into the next with no time to catch my breath. Only when he feels me go limp in his arms does he stop, dragging my earlobe between his teeth as we both breathe heavily.
When he pulls out of me again, my body screams in protest, my inner walls clamping around him like I could lock him inside me. He turns me around to face him and wraps his arms around me again, depositing me on the floor this time.
The hardwood isn’t exactly comfortable, but the second Gray’s cock slides back into my aching pussy, I forget all about that. He hovers over me, bracing himself on his arms as he looks down at me with the same intense expression he wore earlier.
“You think I like this, Sparrow?” he murmurs. “That’s the wrong fucking word. There isn’t a word in the English language for what it feels like to be inside you.”
His strokes are slow and measured, but I can feel the tidal wave building behind them. He’s so fucking close, but he won’t let himself finish. He won’t let this end.
I don’t want him to. I want him to keep fucking me like this forever, keeping the entire world at bay as he narrows my focus down to just the two of us.
But I also want to feel him let go. I want to see him let go. I want every fucking thing he has to give me.
I reach up and rake my fingernails down his chest, pressing hard enough to leave long red scratches on his skin. Shifting my hips against him, I squeeze him hard.
He grunts, his nostrils flaring as his pupils expand. One hand leaves the floor to wrap around my throat, tightening just enough to make my pulse kick up.
“I’m not done fucking you, Sparrow,” he growls.
My gaze locks with his as I clench around him again, lifting my hips off the floor to make his next stroke harder and deeper.
“Fuck.” His entire body shudders, and his hand squeezes my throat. It’s a warning and a promise all wrapped into one.
The pressure on my throat is making my heart slam harder in my chest, and heat is building in my core again, radiating through my body until my limbs feel heavy with it. I arch against him, writhing underneath him as my legs wrap around his waist.
With a ragged curse, Gray pistons his hips and drives into me, fucking me into the floor as he drops his head to claim my lips in a rough kiss. His cock swells inside me as he comes, pulsing with his release as he fills me up.
It’s more than I can take. My head spins as another orgasm crashes into me, and blackness tinges the edges of my vision as pleasure knocks the breath out of me.
Finally, Gray collapses on top of me. My body goes boneless beneath his, and I have the sudden wild thought that maybe neither of us will be able to move ever again. His parents will return from their holiday travels to find us sprawled on the kitchen floor like this, stuck together in a sated heap.
The image makes me laugh lightly. Gray feels the vibration in my chest and chuckles too, although there’s no way he can guess what I’m thinking.
With a heavy groan, he finally pushes himself up on his arms again and draws out of me, flopping onto his back on the floor.
“Merry Christmas, Sparrow,” he murmurs breathlessly, and I laugh again.
Because as crazy as it sounds, this might be the first Christmas I can remember that actually is merry.
6
The necklace is warm against my skin as I take the little heart between my thumb and index finger and look down at it. I twist it this way and that, admiring the way it glimmers in the sunlight spilling into the kitchen.
I haven’t been able to stop looking at it, feeling it against my bare skin, touching it—like I have to reassure myself that it’s there, that it’s not just a figment of my imagination.
“Do you like it?” Gray mumbles against my shoulder, his hand skimming over my naked breast. He drops his head and kisses the swell of flesh with lazy presses of his lips, seeming to be in no rush to move.
We’re still on the kitchen floor, completely naked, tangled up in each other’s bodies. It shouldn’t be comfortable. The wood beneath me is hard and cold, but I really don’t give a fuck about that. I feel… content. Peaceful. Every part of my body is satisfied and sated, and I love the feel of Gray’s body curled around mine.
“Of course,” I say, glancing at him. “It’s fucking gorgeous. It’s… it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had. That I’ve ever been given.”