Page 16 of Broken Strings

"What do you need, baby? Tell me."

"You!" I cry, frustrated that he doesn't get that. "I need you to make it stop."

He groans, a rumbling, broken sound that vibrates all the way to my bones. But he doesn't make me repeat myself again. He doesn't ask for instructions, either. He never needed that. He always knew exactly how to kiss me, precisely where to touch me.

He does that now, hauling me up against his chest as one hand delves into my hair, angling my head. His lips come down on mine, so damn familiar it hurts and doesn't hurt nearly enough.

I sob into his mouth, shoving my hand between our bodies to grab his cock through his clothes.

"Fuck," he growls, biting my bottom lip as he bucks his hips into my hand. "Careful, baby. You'll have me coming all over your fucking hand if you keep that up."

"Good. That's the plan." I rip through the button of his jeans, shoving my hand into his pants.

"Goddamn," he growls, his head kicking back when I wrap my hand around his cock, pulling it from his pants. God, I missed the weight of him in my hands. The hard heat of him. His length and the way he always stole my breath on that first thrust.

I missed this so damn much.

I pump my hand up and down his shaft as he growls into my mouth, his kiss growing more demanding, more dominating. We're spiraling out of control, but I don't care. I want this. Need this.

He yanks my blouse from my skirt, his rough hands skimming up my ribs to cup my breasts through my bra. I moan as he kneads them, rolling and pinching my nipples between his fingers until they're stiff peaks, aching for his tongue. For his teeth.

"Grayson," I whimper, my head falling back as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down my throat. He sucks hard on my pulse point, and I know it's going to leave a mark, but I don't care. I want his mark right there again.

I've been so freaking lost without it.

His hands skim back down to grab my ass, lifting me up onto my father's desk. Office supplies clatter to the floor at his feet, but neither of us pays them any mind. All that matters is his body pressed to mine, his skin against mine.

"Is this what you need, baby? You need me all over you just like this?"

"Yes!"

He shoves my skirt up around my waist and hooks his fingers in my panties, dragging them down my legs. Cool air caresses my wet sex a second before his fingers are there, hot and insistent. I sob his name, already spiraling toward the edge.

"Fucking hell, Mina. You're so wet for me already," he rasps, rubbing tight circles over my clit.

I can only moan in response, rocking into his touch. I'm so damn desperate for it. Six years is a lifetime.

He teases my entrance and then thrusts two fingers deep inside me. I cry out, my head falling back in ecstasy.

"That's it," he croons. "Ride my fucking fingers, baby. Christ, you're gripping me so tight."

I whimper and writhe on his hand as he finger-fucks me hard and fast, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside that makes stars explode behind my eyes. My hand flies over his cock, twisting on every upstroke, my thumb swirling the leakingprecum around his tip. I want to taste it so damn bad, want him hitting the back of my throat and growling like he always did. But I'm too far gone for that right now.

His jaw clenches, and his abs flex as he fights for control. "Look at me," he commands roughly.

My eyes fly open to meet his intense gaze. Lust and longing, pain and desperation swirl in their stormy depths, stealing my breath.

"I missed watching you fall apart on my fingers, missed hearing all those pretty little noises you make when you're about to come," he whispers. "I fucking missed you, Mina. Every goddamn thing about you."

"Grayson, please…" I moan, so close to the edge I can taste it. I don't want to think right now. I just want to feel. Thinking hurts. But this? This feels like heaven.

"Come for me. Now." He grinds the heel of his palm against my clit as he fucks me with his fingers, and I detonate, pleasure exploding through my body. My inner walls clench around him as I shake and quiver, sobbing his name.

"Fuck, just like that," he croons, his voice rough and gritty. "Soak my fucking hand, baby. Goddamn, you're so perfect."

His words, his touch, everything about him, sends me flying even higher. Through the haze of bliss, I feel his cock pulse in my hand, and then he's coming too, spurting hot and hard over my fingers.

"I love you forever," he groans. "God, I love you, Mina."