Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,140

a smile tipping one side of his mouth.

“You know why, Bristol.” A small frown bends his eyebrows to meet. “It wasn’t fair letting her think there was a chance when I couldn’t get over you.”

The blood slams against my wrists and at my temples in a frantic rhythm. My breaths grow shallow, fear and excitement and possibility mingling in my veins. He tilts my chin up until I’m forced to meet his eyes again.

“I won’t be getting over you,” he says softly. “And I would never cheat on you. As long as it’s taken me to get you, you think I would jeopardize that with some piece of ass that doesn’t mean anything to me?”

His words, his reassurances, loosen some of what’s been tight inside me since I walked in on my father.

“You don’t have me yet,” I whisper, managing a tiny teasing smile.

He takes me by the hips, pulling me into his big body against the door, dipping his head until he hovers over my lips.

“Keep telling yourself that, Bris.”

Anticipation crackles between us as I wait for him to take me, to claim me. Because there’s no way I can stop him now. Despite any fear that may still linger, I don’t want to stop him, but he’s made every move for years. It’s time for me to move first.

I tip up on my toes and press my lips to his, tentative as if it’s our first kiss. I’m careful, as if he might turn me away, but he doesn’t. With a groan, he spreads one hand over the small of my back and slides the other up into my wild hair. He angles my head just the way he wants and commandeers the kiss, nothing tentative or uncertain about him pulling my lips between his. Nothing careful about the way he plunges into me, his mouth slanting over mine, his tongue sweeping against mine. On repeat. Over and over. Avid. Desperate. Hungry.

He slumps against the door and takes me with him, searching hands venturing under the chambray shirt to cup the bare cheeks of my ass. With one foot he kicks my legs apart until he’s between my thighs. I gasp at the stiff erection pressing into my panties. Involuntarily, my hips roll into him. We groan into each other’s mouths at the heat, the hardness, the wetness of us touching. Of us together.

“Bristol.” He trails his mouth down my neck to the spot that’s basically a blank check to my body. “I want to hear the whole sordid story of why you’ve put me through all this shit all these years. I really do.”

I nod, hastily loosening the buttons of the chambray shirt and sliding my arms out until I’m only wearing the strapless bra and the thong.

“Damn, baby,” he whispers, dipping his head to nudge the sheer material of my bra down, baring my breast. He takes my nipple into his mouth, drawing on me so hard it’s almost painful, but I’m glad he doesn’t stop when I whimper.

“Grip.” I clutch his head to my breast and grind myself into him over and over, a hurricane building inside me. “Please.”

“Please what?” He paints my areola with his tongue. “What do you want?”

“You know.” I’m almost in tears it feels so good and I want it so bad. “You know, Grip.”

Without asking for more, his fingers slip into the sides of my panties, rolling them over my hips and down my legs. His eyes eat up my nudity. I feel exposed, and realize that my head may not be pounding as badly and I managed to brush my teeth, but the rest of me still looks and smells like last night. I’m a wreck from head to naked toe.

“Grip, wait.” I pull back, reaching down to grab the shirt from the floor and sliding my arms in.

“You’re going in the wrong direction, Bris.” Grip shucks his shoes off again and rips the tank over his head, revealing his sculpted chest. “Clothes should be coming off.”

“I . . . well, um . . .” My breath stutters when the jeans slide down his powerful thighs. Through his briefs, I see what he’s working with, and it’s more than I’ve ever had.

Shit.

My poor pussy may not be ready for this. I feel like I should have been in training to fuck him, the way I would for a marathon. Surely, all that dick isn’t something you just wake up one morning and take.

He hooks an arm around my waist