Filthy Little Pretties - Trilina Pucci Page 0,48

gnaw on my lip, still thinking the thoughts I shouldn’t. The dream that woke me replays in my mind, like fast snippets on a highlight reel, chipping away all rational thought.

Liam’s hands running slowly down my sternum.

Grey’s fingers digging into my hips.

My back arching.

Lips on me.

Kisses trailed.

Tongues laved.

Moans. Growls. Need.

“What are you doing down here?”

“Shit!” A yell rips from my body as my shoulders jump. “Grey. You scared the shit out of me.”

He grins, making his way to the fireplace, and flips the switch, bringing it to life. “Cold?”

I nod, but it was rhetorical. Grey shivers as his hand runs over his shirtless body. The fire puts him in its glow, holding my attention and making him look like some kind of heavenly demon. Jesus, my eyes are having a very hard time staying away from the hard planes of his chest and the tight muscles that run down his stomach, but I try anyway.

“Here,” I offer, pulling my warm blanket off. “Take this. I’m good.”

He smiles and takes a few steps toward where I’m standing and takes it from me, sweeping it over him and pulling me in as well. It’s so natural, so welcome. So Grey. But I can’t help but hold my breath for just a moment.

“You keep my front warm, Cherry.”

I laugh and twist around so we’re standing, me wrapped in his arms, my back to him, and look out of the window again at the dark expanse. His arms are locked around me. A warm blush, staining my cheeks from my leftover thoughts, makes me give my head a tiny shake just as the wood cracks in the fireplace.

“What?”

His deep voice rumbles in his chest against my back, and I smile to myself, enjoying my secret.

“Nothing,” I answer.

He doesn’t push, instead kisses the top of my head before he leans down to my ear, tightening his hold. “How come you can’t sleep, Donovan?”

His voice is a taunt, slow and accusatory, instead of a question.

My answer is caught in my throat, so I give a slow shrug, finding the grin on my face impossible to ignore. His lips brush the top of my ear, and I swear it’s like he sees inside my head. Grey has to be able to feel my heart pounding because I can almost hear it.

“Do you think it’s the same reason I can’t?”

Fuck. Did he dream about me too? The way his words drift down onto my skin makes goose bumps spread over my skin, and suddenly I’m hyperaware of every part of him that’s touching me.

“I had a nightmare,” I lie, for the sake of my survival.

His hold loosens as his strong hands run up my arms and back down. And it feels way too good, but I’m overthinking. This is just Grey.

“Are you sure? Because it sounded as good as my own.”

My eyes close as he pulls me back into him, and I swallow hard. “What was yours about?”

When he doesn’t say anything back, my eyes drag open, blinking back into reality. Shit. What am I doing? I twist to look back at his face, and I’m met with the most mischievous and only Grey brand of a smirk.

It says everything without him saying anything. His hands find my waist as he stares down at me. I’m overwhelmed, pulled under by his intention. Doesn’t matter that this is a bad idea, that we’ll regret every moment. I have never wanted something to happen more in my life.

Grey lowers his face down so close that his nose brushes mine as he speaks. “What was yours about, Cherry? I bet I could guess. You talk in your sleep.”

My eyes widen as my heart actually stops. “Lie.”

“My name sounds good moaned from your lips.”

Holy shit. My teeth find my lip as his eyes drop to my mouth.

“We shouldn’t—” Damn, I wished that sounded more forceful.

“Probably.”

Grey tilts his head, biting his bottom lip.

“We can’t, Grey.”

“Mmhmm.”

His tongue runs over his top lip like he’s about to enjoy the meal in front of him—me.

“Grey.”

His eyes close as his name leaves my lips like I’m begging. Grey’s hands lower from my waist to my hip bone and dig in before he opens those stormy bedroom eyes. It’s just like in my dream but a thousand times better.

“Do you want to know what I dreamed?”

I don’t answer because my body does it for me. It’s an automatic reaction. My hands find his chest and run up toward his shoulders.

“Cherry pie. All I could eat.”

His eyes never leave

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