Note: this chapter contains mature scenes. If you don't like reading these kinds of scenes, you can skip this chapter and keep reading

P.s.: I gave the readers what they want ;)

Talia:

I need you.

Like I said, holy shit.

The words, his composure, and the way he whispered it in my ear all sets my body on fire. I never knew it could be that easy.

My eyes close involuntarily and Grayson's lips remain where they are below my right ear. When no response is made on my behalf, he presses those soft, intoxicating lips of his against my neck.

Once.

Twice.

The third time, his tongue swirls in small circles on my burning skin. I am so wrapped up in the thoughts of his dirty mouth marking me that I couldn't even sense his next movement. His large hand finds the top part of my chest, right below the base of my neck. It's cool to the touch and sends another round of shivers down my body, followed by a heavy sigh.

I imagine it sounded a lot more moan-like based on the way a deep laugh comes from Grayson. He plants small, short kisses along my neck, traveling from my right side to my left ear. I can practically feel the smile on his mouth with each one.

"I need you," he repeats, this time more sure of himself than before, if that's even possible. The hand that rests on my chest slides to the back of my neck where my hair starts. He tangles his fingers in the strands, the callouses on them rough against the follicles. He kisses near the lobe of my ear and adds, "Please."

How did we even get to this point? Oh, right. I came out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel. Grayson's mind instantly turned feral and now we're here, pressed to each other and passing heavy breaths through the air. Cool.

"You already have me, Grayson," I mumble, which is all I can manage. I finally open my eyes as Grayson returns to his full height in front of me. Well, almost. His arms trap me in on either side, hands on the dresser, leaning forward so his head is close to mine.

I look at him through my lashes and a hum sounds from his throat. That seems to set him off even further. "You know what I mean."

I adjust the towel around my body, holding it tighter to me. He watches carefully. I know exactly what he means. But wouldn't it be fun to toy with him?

"I don't," I say. His expression is blank and he stares at where my lips would be. "Tell me what you want from me."

Grayson's hand finds my waist and he latches on. His head dips down and presses a loving kiss to my forehead. "I need." A kiss to my right cheek. "Your fucking pussy." A kiss to my left cheek. "In my mouth."

That same mouth that he needs on my body part seals his desires with a rough kiss to my lips. The dirty—so fucking dirty—idea screams inside my brain. It erupts heat from my core and other places. And by other places, I mean the spot Grayson wants to explore with his mouth. I push my thighs together without even thinking twice, but he catches the movement immediately. His eyes darken even more and he gives me his famous lopsided grin.

"Tell me you need me too, daisy," he coaxes, his mouth discovering my jaw and finding it in his best interest to kiss there as well. "Tell me you need this as much as I do."

Everything is hot. God, my face feels like it's on fire, and do I care? Nope. Not at all. All I care about is answering Grayson's demands, which is easier than I thought it would be. "I need you. I need this. Please."

He smiles at me, and I think that's what throws me over the edge. In addition to that, Grayson throws me over his shoulder—my towel still clinging to my body for dear life—and carries me to the bed. I'm grateful he decides to haul me like a sack of flour, because I'm positive my legs would have turned to jell-o; and he wasn't even through with me yet.

My boyfriend gently sits me at the edge of the bed and kneels in front of me where my knees are pressed together. Tightly. Acting at the last step before we cross a very anticipated line together. The towel is also a barrier. Based on the way Grayson is staring at it, I know he wants to tear it off of me, leaving me bare for his longing eyes. His head is level with mine and those same beautiful brown eyes lock into my green ones. He rests a hand on my knee, brushing my skin with his thumb.

"Are you sure, Talia?" Grayson asks me, his face sincere, completely focused on my answer. I know he would immediately detach himself from me if I said no. He would find a way to harness the shred of self-control he has left. He would let me decide for myself what I really wanted—no, needed. "I need a clear yes."

"Yes." My heart picks up. I meant what I said before. I did need him with every lust filled bone in me. "I'm sure."

"You tell me immediately if it's too much," he says. "Don't worry about my needs, because yours are more important to me. Understood?"

I nod my head and hide a smile.

"Good girl."

The smile is now far from hidden while he squeezes my thigh in approval. He leans forward and gently kisses my lips, taking them for himself. My breathing quickens when that hand travels up my body, past my waist, and right to where the towel hem is tucked tightly, hiding my body from him. Grayson parts from me and looks into my eyes, silently asking for permission despite me already giving it to him. I nod my head. And the towel comes undone, reveling my upper half and covering the bottom.

"Fucking Hell," he breathes out, his hand running through his dark colored hair and pushing it back, only for it to fall back in place a moment later.

His shirt flies off as fast as I can blink, making me feel less alone in the nudity department. I'm sure that was his exact intention after seeing the way I shied from his gaze. The eyes that fall to my recently exposed breasts somehow make me feel even more naked. He probably wanted to make me more comfortable.

He's quiet. One of his hands traces along the side of my torso in some sort of caress until it holds my waist in place. The knuckles from two of his finger on the other hand finds a different part of my body needed to be touched. I shiver as they travel down by center, between my breasts, and down to the other side of my waist. I watch a smile hint at his lips when he notices just how much I enjoyed that feathering touch. My stiff nipples that appear are the clearest sign. The warmth—and wetness—pooling from a different part of me is something Grayson will discover soon enough.

"I can hardly breathe when I look at you," I hear him mutter, but I'm unsure if it was meant to be heard. It doesn't matter his intentions when he voiced that statement, because it makes my own breath stop, only to resume a moment later when his lips crash into mine.

Rough or gentle—Grayson cannot make up his mind. He gently guides my back to lay on the bed, him hovering over me, but then continues to kiss my lips, jaw, and neck, with as much hunger as a man who hasn't eaten in days. Or weeks. My hands find the back of his head, sliding through his hair and holding onto him as his mouth explores my skin. I arch my chest up against his without even realizing it, which presses my breasts into him. The friction of his hard muscles on my already aroused nipples causes a sensation I never even considered possible. I feel Grayson's smile while kissing me as I try to create that delightful pleasure again and again.

I practically groan in annoyance when he moves his body away from me, standing on the edge of the bed. He watches me from above and licks his bottom lip. I grow impatient. My confidence gets the best of me. I find one of his hands with my own and hold the back side of it, guiding it along my skin until I settle his entire hand on my right breast. The largeness of his appendage easily covers the whole mound.

The way he stares at me ignites something deep within me. So I smile and use my courage to demand something from him.

"Touch me."

I help his hand squeeze my breast another time, which somehow makes me release a content hum. My eyes fall to the growing, impossibly large and hard bulge in Grayson's sweatpants. I watch in fascination as it twitches when he obeys my command and brushes a thumb across my nipple.

He notices my line of sight and responds quickly, a flicker of amusement passing through his face. "Eyes on me, baby. I want all of your attention."

I lock my eyes into his as he leans down, closer to my chest. Closer, closer, and closer—all until his mouth latches to my nipple. Is it possible just to get off on someone playing with your breasts, because Grayson is making me believe it is. His tongue flicks against the somehow sensitive tip, first slowly, as if to test the waters, then in a quick, repetitive motion. The unoccupied breast suddenly becomes very occupied when his left hand lands on top of it, squeezing harder than I thought Grayson would have allowed himself to do.

I moan.

The sound encourages him further and he releases my nipple after sucking on it hard enough to pull my breast up and away. He sucks on the skin around the nipple, then moving over to give my twin body part some needed attention. And I love every second of it.

When he begins kissing the skin below my breasts, I feel the anticipation of what he will do next run through me. He must notice the way my body tenses as he sucks and licks the parts underneath my waist, right where my hips start, because his eyes shoot up to mine. It only makes us feel more connected. More whole.

He keeps the eye contact while he positions himself on the floor at the foot of the bed, kneeling. It's a sight I think I could get used to.

His hands brush across my hips and I watch him eye the line where the towel covers my lower regions. Clearly, someone would have to do something about that, and Grayson is the perfect man for the job...If he wasn't too focused on teasing me and building up all of the pressure in my body, readying it to be released. I'm impatient. Grayson is obviously better at waiting by the way he plants slow, feathering kisses along my inner thigh. Each one warms up my hidden region a little bit more. I can only imagine the mess that is pooling there already.

My impatience gets the best of me and I reach to pull away the towel. I just touch the fabric when Grayson's hand clasps around my wrist and pins it against the bed. He takes a break from running his mouth on everything except what I really want and looks up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"You're not very good at waiting," he factually states. His thumb rubs circles into my leg to keep himself occupied while he speaks.

I blush, as if I was caught in the act of doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing. I'm reminded of the moisture collecting in the regions under the towel and move my hips around, trying to relieve the pressure. Grayson doesn't miss a single movement. He uses his unoccupied hand—the other still holding down my wrist—and grips my thigh to stop my fidgeting. My voice is strained, "I'm trying to be patient, but you're making it difficult."

"Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you." He kisses the spot where his thumb was rubbing and swipes his tongue along the skin. Based on the sucking that is heard and felt shortly after, I can already imagine a mark will be left there. I should be thankful, considering that will be easier to hide than the spots along my neck and chest. Next time, he is on a kissing only limit; no sucking or—God forbid—biting unless it's on a patch of skin I can shield from wandering eyes.

"I told you that I want you to touch me," I say, referencing my earlier words.

The smirk that follows on his face is one that informs me he isn't going to make this easy for me. "And where do you want me to touch you?"

I bite my lip and feel my cheeks swallowed by heat as I prop myself up on my elbows to see him better. He's going to make me say exactly where, and I'm not sure I'll be able to do it. My silence pushes him to continue to tease me.

Grayson's hand releases my thigh and his fingers run over my bare waist. "Here?"

I shake my head.

He's practically grinning when he watches his hand move up to the curve of my breast, cupping the entire thing and giving it a quick squeeze. My throat releases a humming noise without even thinking twice. Not even thinking once, for that matter. His throat bobs, telling me he's swallowing before he asks the same question. "Here?"

My head shakes again. I know being asked one more time will force that dirty word to slip out of my mouth.

He then takes his thumb and pointer finger, holds my nipple with the two digits, and rolls it between them. My face contorts into something that can be read at immense pleasure and my back nearly arches at his touch. His voice is rough this time. "Here, daisy?"

I shake my head and lock my eyes onto his. As I did before, I place my hand on the back of his and guide it down, down, down until it slips underneath that darn towel. We both suck in our breath at the same time—mine from finally finding the contact I desired, and him from feeling just how wet I am.

"Here," I say in a breathy voice. My eyes close and I lean back against the bed, my hand falling off of his and to the side of my hip. "Touch me here, Grayson. Please."

I have never seen Grayson move faster than he does when he rips off that towel and it flies somewhere to the side. Then, he stares. Only for a second until his neurons can actually send signals to his fingers to move them. To make them do their job.

He takes his middle and ring finger together and runs along the center of my regions, the moan pouring out of me before I can cover my mouth. Grayson dips them into the liquid that's dripping out of me, stretching me only at the entrance, but just enough to tell me that the two fingers will have trouble fitting later. And to say I didn't hear a wet sound when he did so would make me a liar.

He quickly locates my clit. The lightness of his touch against the insanely sensitive spot tenses my entire body, but I grow more lax when he rubs it in tight, firm circles. I clutch the bedsheets in a fist and my head leans back into the mattress, the pleasure finding me immediately.

He dips back down and pushes in until his first knuckle. Already it feels like too much. Grayson holds up the fingers and I see the way they glisten off of the light. I swear I see a bead of the liquid fall down. His expression is amazed when he looks at me.

"So wet and I barely even did anything," he says smoothly. The fingers that were once inside of me slide into his mouth and my own mouth opens a fraction of an inch in bewilderment. I think my heart stops as he closes his eyes while removing his now clean fingers, enjoying whatever it is his taste buds sampled. "Talia."

How am I supposed to function when he says my name like that? I'm not even given a moment to contemplate my answer, because his mouth finds my pussy. His strong tongue laps between my folds and uses one hand—the other doing God knows what—to hold down my thigh to the bed and give him deeper access. And deeper access is what he gets. Dipping into my hole, he swirls around his tongue and my inner walls squeeze around him. Each licking, sucking, and swirling movement has my back arching, toes curling, and throat humming with pleasure. It's unlike anything I've ever felt before.

"Grayson," I groan when he unexpectedly removes his tongue from inside of me, the need for more clouding my sense of control. His eyes fall to mine and I watch an amused smile spread over his lips. I realize it's more of a wicked grin as he plunges in one of his too-large fingers to replace his tongue.

The finger pumps in and out of my slick, tight walls repeatedly, the pace torturous based on how slow he moves, giving me time to adjust to the expansion. "Fuck, you're tight," Grayson moans. I imagine him watching the way his finger is squeezed at my entrance and feeling my walls wrap around him like a bandaid. I try grinding my hips on his fingers to create more desired friction. A grunt sounds from him, joined by a quiet curse.

My boyfriend uses his tongue to lick my clit and I flinch. A rough laugh sounds from him, which heavenly vibrates directly on that sensitive spot. I moan his name again just because of that. That earns me a reward. A generous gift of a second finger inside of me, now pumping the two at a faster speed.

I throw my hand over my mouth and suffocate the sexual sounds threatening to fill the room. My other hand finds Grayson's head, so I run my fingers through his hair and hold the side of his head for any kind of support. This catches his attention, and when his gaze notices I'm blocking my moans from spilling out, he takes immediate action. Not breaking his movement of his fingers or the sucking of my clit, Grayson moves my hand away from my mouth and places it to the side of me. Instead of pinning it down in a forceful way, he entwines his hand with mine and squeezes. For the second—or probably millionth—time tonight, my heart skips a beat.

A smile overtakes my face as I close my eyes and lean my head back. Then, his fingers locate a spot deep inside of me that causes me to squeal. The pumping of my pussy halts, keeping his fingers at that unfamiliar spot and he removes his mouth from my clit. When I open my eyes, Grayson carefully examines me and the way I'm biting my lip after he reached my G-spot. The corners of his mouth tilt up. Shortly after, his fingers curl and stroke that hidden area.

"Oh, my God," I say in a breathless voice.

The feeling is incredible. My hips shift around as he pets that spot for another second and then continues to move his fingers in and out, making sure to hit my G-spot with every stroke. I know I'm close. The tension growing in my lower stomach and the way my inner walls begin to clench are enough of a sign. The latter signal and the arising moans are enough to inform Grayson as well.

"Come, baby," he demands, pumping in me harder and harder. His eyes appear so intensely focused on his task, and I wish I could continue to look at them, but the growing feeling it too much for me to handle without closing my eyes. "I want you to come."

He removes his hand from mine and presses his thumb to my clit. It's takes exactly five tight circles on that spot for me to come undone on his fingers. My legs shake and Grayson holds one thigh down with the hand that was on my clit as he pumps his fingers into my pussy. Well, he tries to move them, but my walls clench so hard I feel as if I must be breaking his fingers. He helps me ride out my orgasm by moving what he can, which is stroking his fingers along my G-spot in the same way as before.

My wetness somehow drips out of me and down my thigh while he gently removes his fingers. The loss of them makes me groan and mumble some strong curse words.

I can hear the smile on his voice as he says, "You're perfect."

His words make my cheeks heat up more.

Everything is almost too