"LOOK AT YOU," Grayson growled, pressing his forehead to hers as her nails scored down his back. "Already dripping for me, and I've barely started."
She barely registered the moment he freed himself—only the sudden, searing pressure as he dragged the blunt head of his arousal through her slick folds, teasing, tormenting, before withdrawing with a dark chuckle.
Her retort dissolved into a broken moan when he thrust home without warning, filling her so completely her vision whited out at the edges.
The glass shuddered against her back as he pinned her wrists above her head, his hips rolling in slow, devastating circles designed to wring pleasure from her in ways she'd never imagined.
Every nerve ending sparked under the deliberate drag of him, the stretch bordering on pain before tipping into something darker, sweeter.
