"Stop telling me what I do or don't have to do," he cuts me off, voice firm with an edge of command I've never heard directed at me outside the boat. "I want to taste you. Properly this time. Not standing in a bathroom with your dress hiked up."
The memory sends another rush of heat through me. "That was pretty hot, though."
"It was a preview." His mouth moves down my stomach, tongue dipping briefly into my navel before continuing lower. "This is the feature presentation."
He positions himself between my thighs, hands gripping my hips with possessive strength. Unlike Bo's careful exploration, Gray's approach is territorial. He kisses and nips along my inner thighs, marking me with small bruises that will remind me tomorrow exactly who I belonged to tonight.
When he finally reaches my center, he doesn't start gently. His tongue licks a broad stripe from bottom to top, making me cry out and arch off the bed. He groans against me, the sound vibrating through my core.
"Fuck, you taste incredible," he growls, diving back in with single-minded intensity.
Gray eats pussy like it’s his job–with focus, determination, and an absolute refusal to accept anything less than perfection. His tongue works me relentlessly, drawing gasps and moans from my throat as my thighs shake against his shoulders.
When he slips two fingers inside me, curling them deep, I grab his hair and pull hard enough to make him groan.
"Look at me," he commands, lifting his head just enough to meet my eyes. "I want to see your face when I make you come."
The direct order, delivered in the same tone he uses to command the boat, sends a streak of heat straight through me. I prop myself up on my elbows, looking down at him between my thighs. The sight alone nearly pushes me over the edge—GrayLockwood, perfect captain and Alpha heir, his mouth glistening with my arousal, eyes burning with possessive hunger.
"The bedroom is the only place you get to command me like that," I gasp, needing to maintain some illusion of control even as he systematically dismantles me.
"We'll see about that," he says, the devil in his eyes, before sealing his mouth over my clit and sucking hard.
The combination of his fingers pumping inside me and his mouth working my clit with ruthless efficiency tears a scream from my throat. He doesn't ease up, doesn't give me a moment to adjust or breathe. His free arm loops over my hips, holding me in place as I try to buck against his mouth.
"Gray," I pant, feeling the pressure building, coiling tighter with each skilled stroke of his tongue. "I'm going to—"
He increases his pace, adding a third finger and curling them perfectly while his tongue flicks rapidly over my clit. The wet sounds of his mouth on me fill the room, obscene and intoxicating.
When the orgasm hits, it's like being struck by lightning. My body convulses around his fingers, pleasure exploding outward in waves that leave me shaking and gasping his name. Through it all, his eyes hold mine, watching my unraveling with fierce satisfaction.
He doesn't stop until the last aftershock fades, then presses one final, possessive kiss to my center before rising up to cover my body with his. His mouth finds mine in a kiss that tastes like me and him and pure claiming. The intimacy of it makes something in my chest tighten.
"Better?" he asks, voice raspy with his own need.
"For about thirty seconds," I reply breathlessly.
Gray's eyes darken with determination. "Then I better make sure the next one lasts longer."
He rises from the bed just long enough to shed his boxer briefs, and I take a moment to appreciate the view. Gray's body is a work of art sculpted by years of rowing—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, muscular thighs, and the impressive length of his cock standing proud between them.
When he returns to the bed, he kneels between my legs, sliding his length between my folds without entering me. The tease makes me whimper, still sensitive from my orgasm but already wanting more.
"You sure about this, Reese?" he asks, eyes meeting mine with surprising tenderness beneath the hunger.
In answer, I sit up and wrap my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him into another desperate kiss. "Very sure. Now stop talking and fuck me, Lockwood."
A grin flashes across his face, transforming his features from merely handsome to devastating. "As my coxswain commands."
He lifts my right leg over his shoulder and slides into me in one smooth thrust, filling me completely. We both groan at the sensation—the perfect stretch, the heat, the connection that feels more intense than it has any right to be. For a moment, he remains perfectly still, letting me adjust to his size.
Then he begins to move, and all coherent thought flees my mind.
This isn't like last night with Bo. Where Bo was gentle and responsive, careful and protective, Gray is commanding and intense. His rhythm is relentless, each thrust precisely targeted to draw the maximum response from my body. He braces overme, controlling my leg over his shoulder and pressing me into the mattress with his solid weight.
"God, Reese," he groans, his pace quickening. "You feel incredible. So tight around my cock."
Words fail me as pleasure builds too quickly for language. I cling to his arms, nails digging into the hard muscle as he drives into me again and again.
