Behind her, she felt him looming, and his h*ps pressed against her ass. She gave a small shimmy, bucking back against him, even as his hand continued to pin her to the couch. She could see nothing but fluffy, dark green pillows in front of her, and her imagination was making her wild, imagining what he was doing behind her.
His hand went to the front of her jeans and he pushed at the button of her fly, trying to open them. She helped him out, undoing the fastenings and then dragging the zipper down. As soon as she did, his hand went to the waistband of her pants, ripping them down her legs and letting them pool at her knees. And then he cursed. “Where the hell are your panties?”
“Didn’t wear any,” she told him breathlessly. “I’m out.”
Grant ran a hand along her ass, then groaned again as he slid his fingers between her legs, testing her. “God, you’re so wet. Wet and open.”
She moaned into the pillows at his touch. “Told you I’d been thinking about this all day. You didn’t believe me?”
His fingers slicked into her wetness, plunging into her pu**y. “And this is from touching me in the car?”
Brenna cried out at the sensation, shifting her stance so she could spread wider for him. “You don’t think . . . I can get like this . . . from touching you?” Her voice came out in little gasps.
“So is it touching me that makes you wet? Or just harassing me?” His fingers slicked in and out, and she was so wet that she could hear the movements of his fingers just as much as she felt them, and it turned her on all over again.
“Little from column A, little from column B,” she told him breathlessly. Her h*ps ground against his fingers when he thrust again, pushing him a bit deeper.
The hand on her neck lifted for a moment, and when he pulled his fingers from her pu**y with a wet sound, she cried out in protest.
“Stay there,” he told her.
“So bossy.” Her voice sounded ragged with lust. “That’s sexy.” And she did as she was told, because damn, a bossy Grant was kind of turning her crank.
She heard the sound of a condom package ripping and some shuffling clothing, and then in the next minute, that hand was pressing back down on her neck again, even as she felt his h*ps brush against hers once more. She tensed in anticipation.
Grant slammed into her from behind, seating himself to the hilt deep inside her.
Brenna cried out, the sensation nearly overwhelming her. “Oh Grant,” she moaned. “Oh yeah. Do that again.”
“Goddamn you, Brenna,” he bit out, and slammed into her again. “You’re supposed to f**king hate being used,” he told her, and thrust hard again. “Not f**king eat it up.” Thrust again. And then he began to hammer into her from behind, as if all control had gone out the wayside.
And oh God, Grant losing control? Made her wild. She felt her body ripple in a shudder of excitement, and then her pu**y followed. To her surprise, she was coming hard and fast. She tightened around him and whimpered when he bit out another curse, plunging into her harder and faster, her body pinned under him as she quaked in a violent orgasm.
And then he growled out her name, and she felt him clenching up against her, the impossibly rough pounding slowing down until he was gradually moving in and out of her with leisurely strokes. He’d come, but for some reason he hadn’t stopped moving. His hand moved under her T-shirt to stroke her lower back. And he breathed her name. “Brenna.”
“Mmmm,” she said softly, acknowledging him but too blissed out to do more than that.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“You didn’t hear ‘ouch’ did you? I didn’t fling you off me.” She snuggled into the pillows of the couch, eyes closed, not caring that her bare ass was in the air and Grant was still on top of her. “Now be quiet. You’re harshing my post-coital buzz.”
“Oh, were you finished?” He slid away for a moment, and she lifted her head to see him heading to a nearby garbage can and stripping off his condom. His pants were still on, though they were undone and he had to hitch them at his h*ps to keep them from pooling around his knees like hers were currently doing. Then he returned to where she was sprawled and helped her sit up. “I kind of thought the evening had just gotten started.”
“Did you, now?” Okay, so she sounded more breathless than she thought she’d be. But to be fair, she’d just been f**ked within an inch of her life. So if she was staring at the guy with a bit of a glazed expression on her face, she had the right. “What else did you have in mind?”
There was a wicked little smile curving Grant’s mouth, and her entire body quivered at the sight. “Let’s play a game.”
Naughty man. “All right. Let’s play. What kind of game?”
He gave her a little push backward, until she was heading over the side of the couch and landing on her back, her legs in the air. She giggled at the awkward position. Legs over her head, pants still around her knees, and now she was on the couch, nestled amidst the sofa cushions.
Grant leaned over her from the other side of the couch and said, “I want to play Make Brenna Scream.”
She tilted her head, staring up at him. “I’m not sure if this is a good game or a bad game.”
“Oh, it’s a good game,” he assured her, then tugged her jeans off her legs. “I promise you.”
Brenna was intrigued. More than that, she was fascinated by this side of Grant. He’d been good in bed last night, but right now? With his assertive, domineering sexual personality? She was kind of digging this other side of him. Who knew that she’d be one of those girls who liked to be told what to do in bed? “What do I need to do for this game?”
He gave her an arch smile that set her pulse to racing. “Why, I want you to scream, of course.”
She looked at him warily. “You’re not going to pull out a giant paddle and start spanking me, are you?”
“Nope. Unless you’re into that.”
“Not all that much.”
He nodded, and his hands went to her hips. To her surprise, he hauled her forward, until her h*ps were resting on the low back of the couch and thrust into the air above her. And Grant ran a hand along the back of her thigh, then pressed her leg forward. “Hold this for me, please, would you?”
She shivered and did as she was told, but she noticed how very open it left her. His ravenous gaze fell on her slick sex, and then he extended her other leg backward. She put both of her hands behind her knees and held her legs back. This . . . was an odd position. Kinda like a yoga something or other. Her weight was on her shoulders, and her ass was in the air, her legs spread wide. With the way she was positioned, she kind of had a bird’s-eye view of her own pu**y. Which was great, she supposed, if she were into that sort of thing, but she kind of preferred looking at guy parts. “So how does this game work?”