Damaged (Boys of Winter #2) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,120

finding that spot all over again.

Holy mother of all things holy. If things continue like this, I think I might spontaneously combust into a ball of burning flames. Shit, maybe I already have. Hell, Grayson could do just about anything he wanted to me and I’d let him.

He keeps working my clit, sucking it just the way I like, and for a brief moment, I wonder if Cruz and King have been sharing all of our dirty little secrets because there’s no way someone could so effortlessly know how to make a woman scream.

That familiar feeling begins to build deep inside me, tightening and pulsing with a desperate need for release. My fingers tighten in his hair, and at this point, anyone would wonder if he had any hair left. “Fuck, Grayson,” I moan, my legs pulling tighter around him, squeezing as my body gets closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue flicks over my clit, applying pressure before he circles it, and just as he does, his thick fingers hit that spot that drives me wild and all hell breaks loose.

My orgasm explodes deep within me, completely taking over and sending me into a world of intense pleasure. My eyes clench as it rocks through me, and I have no choice but to throw my head back and arch off the table. My body spasms beneath his touch, but he doesn’t dare let up, just keeps working me while my pussy convulses and my legs threaten to suffocate him.

My high continues to climb, so intense and forceful as I feel him lapping up my excitement, tasting everything I have on offer.

It’s too much. He’s too much, but at the same time, he’s absolutely everything.

Shit, we haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet and he already has me falling to pieces beneath him.

My orgasm finally begins to ease, and just when my body starts to relax, Grayson pulls away from me, dropping a kiss to my inner thigh as he goes.

He stands at the end of the table, watching me as I desperately try to catch my breath, putting on a show of licking his lips, not wasting a single drop of me.

I groan, biting down on my lip as I watch him reach for the front of his pants. His body is absolute perfection, his tight, prominent muscles, his wide chest, and strong shoulders. He’s a work of art, even without the tattoo, he’s gorgeous.

How could one girl ever get so lucky?

Grayson pulls his fly down, and a second later his pants are gone, freeing an absolute monster. A fucking monster with a sexy as fuck frenum piercing that has my eyes bugging out of my head.

“Holy fuck.”

A cocky smirk twists across his gorgeous face. “Something wrong?”

I shake my head, wondering just how that piercing would feel moving inside of me. “Something’s right.”

Grayson’s hand curls around his thick cock and a twinge of nervousness pulses through me. Can I even handle a monster like that? I mean, I’m not going to say no to a challenge, but damn, that thing is going to bring a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘filling me.’ No wonder this tattoo artist is so interested in him. If she was the one to pierce his dick, then she knows exactly what he’s working with.

Jesus. I thought King and Cruz were beasts. I didn’t think it could get any bigger, but what can I say? Grayson has a way of surprising me. I’ve said it before, and something tells me that I’ll say it a million times more.

He stalks back toward the table and I squirm under his stare, my pussy flooding with need all over again. My stare drops back to his piercing. Fuck, I can’t wait to get that in my mouth.

All of the guys for that matter.

King, Cruz, and Grayson. The three of them together would be an absolute dream. So sensual, dominating, and full. There will never be anything better in this world than experiencing something like that. Now, I know I’ve been lucky so far when it comes to these guys, but surely a girl’s luck is bound to run dry eventually.

I can handle my luck running dry, but another part of me running dry would be nothing short of a nightmare.

Grayson steps right up to the end of the table where my ass is barely hanging off the edge and he takes my knees, slowly drawing them open for him. They’re hooked around his waist and he