Naked Choke

by Vanessa Vale

  My other choice was to step back, to walk away. He’d continue to be patient, to be gentlemanly until I was ready. Was that what I wanted? Did I want Gray to continue to be a gentleman? I liked that he was. It showed so much of his character, but now, it wasn’t enough. I wanted to see every facet of the man, to know every part of him, including the dark and carnal. I didn’t want him to hold back any longer. I wanted all of him.

  I lifted my hand and placed it in his. His eyes, the banked heat there, flared to life. With one tug, he pulled me across his lap, his arm around me so I was flush against him and he was kissing me. While the kiss in my kitchen had been hot, this kiss, this was possession. His tongue plundered, tangled with mine and I moaned, opening my mouth even wider.

  My hands moved to his chest, roaming over the hot skin, feeling the steely muscles beneath. He made a sound in the back of his throat, which I took for approval, and continued. The arm about me loosened and he shifted, forcing me onto my back with him looming over me, his weight resting on his forearm. My knees were bent over the side of the bed, my lower legs dangling off.

  His hand came up and brushed my wild hair back from my face as he stared at my lips, then my eyes. Breathing raggedly, he just took me in. As he lowered his head, I watched as his eyes closed, then he nipped and sucked at my lower lip.

  “Baby, what you do to me,” he whispered just above my mouth.

  Heat flared at his words, my body lighting up, awakening.

  “I can’t be a gentleman, Em. Not anymore.”

  At the words, I got wet, felt it on my thighs. “Good.”

  At that one simple word, his hands slowly lifted the hem of my T-shirt, exposing my belly inch by inch. He lowered his head to kiss and lick over the skin he revealed. The stubble on his chin rasped against me, only heightening the sensations. Lifting my hands, I ran them over his head, the dark hair there soft and silky, but not long enough for me to run my hands through it. When the back of the shirt was caught beneath our combined weights, he rolled us once again so I sat straddling his lap. I could now feel the hard length of him against my core with the both pairs of boxers in the way. He was big, really big.

  It wasn’t the thought of all that size fitting inside me that had me panting, it was the way his eyes darkened. My body had only been seen by one man. As Gray’s fingers worked the T-shirt up my belly once again, higher and higher until I had to lift my arms, I worried at what he would think. My breasts weren’t those of a twenty-year-old. I’d had a baby that I’d nursed for over a year. I wasn’t small, but I wasn’t young and nubile either. I relished the modern bra and how it helped my breasts defy gravity. But as he tossed the T-shirt to the side, I couldn't hide. I glanced down at Gray, fearful of what he might think, what he might say, but his eyes spoke for him.

  There wasn’t revulsion or surprise or even tepid curiosity. It was almost reverence that I glimpsed.

  “You are so beautiful,” he uttered as his hands came up and cupped me.

  The shock of his hands had my eyes flaring wide, then sliding shut. The heat of it zinged down between my parted legs and I moaned.

  “Jesus, baby, they fit perfectly in my hands.” He flicked his thumbs over my tight nipples and my eyes flew open to look at him, but he was looking at my breasts. “Like that?”

  His gaze met mine and I nodded. At my response, he did it again, brushing his thumbs back and forth, then switched to thumb and forefinger. He was playing now, watching me to see what I liked. I liked it all. God, I had no idea my breasts were so sensitive. I arched my back, pushing them into his hands.

  On a growl, he shot forward and took one nipple into his mouth, suckled.

  “Grey!” I cried, my hands on his shoulders, my fingernails digging in as he worked me.

  Kissing his way across the valley between my breasts and to the other one, he murmured, “Can you come just like this?”

  “Oh my God,” I cried, just from the idea of him trying. “I’ve never…I mean, oh!”

  He brushed his chin back and forth over the top swell of my breast as he glanced up at me. “Never came this way before?”

  I shook my head wildly, my hair brushing over my shoulders and down my back.

  “Something we’ll have to work on.” He wasn’t just saying that in passing. He was filing that away for later, for another time—another time. He was competitive and he had to succeed and the idea of him working me until he triumphed had my muscles relaxing. Just his hand about my waist held me up.

  He flipped me again so I was on my back with one of his legs nudging mine apart. He returned his attentions to my breasts, laving and sucking on one as his hand worked the other, kneading and playing with it. While he was so focused, so intent on his every move, I was lost, my brain turning to mush as my body became slick with sweat, my muscles tense one moment and slack the next.

  “Gray, I—”

  “Shh,” he soothed, his tongue licking over the nipple he’d just lightly bit. “I’m not done with you, not even close.”

  Slowly, he worked his way down my body and his fingers came to rest at the rolled waistband of the boxers. As his fingers curled and pulled the fabric down, I once again surfaced from the fog of desire. God, he was going to see all of me and I self-consciously turned a hip, but his forearms wouldn’t allow me to shift away. Perhaps sensing my hesitation, he tugged the boxers down my thighs and then off all the way, then paused.

  I could feel his breath warm on my skin and I tilted my chin to glance down my naked body at him. His shoulders had spread my legs wide, his head only inches from my center. His head was angled down and he stared at me…there.

  “Baby.” The sound was a mixture of joy and undiluted lust. He looked up at me darkly as he slowly, very gently stroked one finger over me. I startled. “Your pussy’s bare.”

  I flopped back, my head angling back as his finger slipped up and down the line of my sex. “Yeah,” I muttered breathlessly.

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t know before now. I would have taken you on your kitchen counter. Hell, I would have taken you on the rugby field.”

  It seemed ridiculous to have a conversation about that part of me, but I'd thought he’d be shocked by finding me completely waxed, but not in this way. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I looked down at him. It was quite a sight with his head between my thighs. “You like it…I mean, I did it because…”

  “Why, Em?” His finger parted my folds and began sliding over the slick flesh.

  “I…I found a gray hair,” I admitted, feeling grouchy, slapping a hand over my eyes. My cheeks heated and not from desire. “It was my mid-life crisis moment.”

  He laughed and I spread my fingers enough to see that he was grinning wickedly. “Are there any more?” he asked, playfully.

  “No,” I said sourly. Finding a gray hair there was a solid symbol that I was no longer young and so I’d fought and rebelled by having it all waxed off and kept it that way.

  He kissed the inside of my thigh and I softened once again. “I think I’m going to have to find out for myself.” When he set about to do just that, my mouth fell open in stunned surprise.

  “What are you, I mean, you’re going to, oh my God!”

  My head flopped back on the bed and I bent my knees and dug my heels into the mattress as Gray put his mouth on me as he slipped a finger inside. I easily relented to his actions. Not that I could do anything but feel when he had his free hand on my lower belly, holding me firmly in place.

  “Let go, baby,” he murmured sometime later when he’d gotten me to the point of panting and thrashing and begging. His voice was deeper, darker than I ever remembered hearing it. “I’ll catch you.”

  I knew he would, for he already had. It was easy to give in to the pleasure he was drawing from my body. With one expert flick of his tongue, I came on a scream. I’d only come while having sex with Jack when I touched myself; he’d never been able to do it. I couldn’t say now it was entirely his fault because I’d never truly l
et go like I did in this moment with Gray. I’d always felt less than beautiful, that I was lacking in some way, that he hadn’t ever really wanted me, yet he felt obligated and stuck with me.

  With Gray I didn’t feel like he was with me out of obligation. He wanted me on a level I never knew existed, for I felt the same. When he looked at me, touched me, pleasured me, it was because he wanted it as much as I did. And so I gripped the sheets and held on as his relentless assault had me battered and bashed by the never-ending wave of pleasure.

  God, the man was good. As the feelings ebbed, he slipped his finger free, kissed the inside of my thigh, then came up over me. Through his boxers, I felt him nudge at my entrance as he looked at me, his gaze raking over my face, perhaps to ensure that I was all right. Why he was concerned when he’d just given me the best orgasm of my life was a mystery.

  “Don’t move.”

  As if I could even lift my head.

  He pushed himself off me and grabbed his pants off the floor, pulled a condom from the pocket. Pushing his boxers over his hips, I got my first glimpse of him. Naked.

  My eyes widened. He was everything I'd imagined and more. His body was perfect, lean and muscled and ripped and gorgeous. His hips were narrow and his cock, holy hell. It was big and long and thick and fluid seeped from the blunt tip and the whole thing was pointed straight at me.

  I licked my lips at the sight. I wanted to reach out and touch him, wondering how hard and hot he’d feel in my palm, but he was busy rolling on the condom. Taking a step toward the bed, he looked me over, every inch of my nakedness. There was nothing left between us now, we were exposed, all our flaws, our weaknesses couldn’t be hidden behind barriers or clothes or even emotions. I felt open on the inside as well, ready to let Gray in.

  Kneeling on the bed, he traced his fingers along my calf, up over my knee and along my thigh as he settled himself so that his cock pressed against me. Instead of shoving himself in, he put a hand by my head and tilted my chin up with the other. Our breaths mingled, our eyes met and held.

  “Emory,” he replied, his voice rough. “I need you.”

  My heart swelled and burst, flooding me with emotion, with feeling, with need. I needed him in me, on me, with me. It was as if I had been without for so long that now I wanted it all.

  Lifting a hand, I cupped his jaw, felt the rasp of his whiskers against my palm. In just a few days, my whole life, my entire world changed and I never wanted to go back. “Where have you been all this time?” I whispered.

  He lowered his head, kissing me gently, softly, tenderly, as he shifted his hips, nestling his cock at my entrance, then sliding into my wet heat. “Waiting for you.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  GRAY

  Waiting for you.

  I hadn’t realized the depth of those words, the truth behind them until I was balls deep inside Emory. The feel of her slick heat surrounding me, squeezing me in tiny pulses, was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I’d wanted to be in this exact place ever since I glimpsed her from across the bar chatting with the bartender. She was fresh air and sunshine and light and brightness and she had directed it all right on me. The attraction, the chemistry between us was explosive, but it was more than that. It was some kind of connection that went bone deep, soul deep that I knew I would never be able to escape. And I didn’t want to.

  I had been waiting for her. Everything in my life had been a buildup until she arrived. I’d been going through the motions, punching and kicking my way to this moment when I could have her. She was giving herself to me and that was precious. As I looked down into her wide eyes, the passion and surprise there only ratcheted up my desire for her. I loved how she sounded when she came, how her inner walls had clenched down on my finger, how she’d just…let go. It was as if she fell into my arms and I nudged her into that bliss. That sound had me almost coming in my boxers. I’d wanted inside her with a desperation like an addict needed a drug. I had to have her.

  Now, her walls clenched down as if trying to pull me in deeper, as if she wanted more. Perhaps she did. Carefully, I pulled back. Her eyes went blurry, her chin tilted as she arched her back. When her hips rose to meet me, I plunged deep.

  We both groaned. The pleasure, the feel of her, rocked my world. I couldn’t hold back, I couldn’t hold still any longer and so I began to move. Her hands tightened on my waist, slid over my ass, gripping it and pulling me into her as if she couldn’t get enough. I lowered my head and kissed her, her breasts pressing into my chest, the friction of my movement making the tips harden.

  I swallowed her little sounds of pleasure as I rocked into her, my tongue mimicking the movements of my cock. She turned her head to the side, breaking the kiss, gasping for air. “Gray!”

  Her hips lifted to meet mine now, frantic in the need to take me in, over and over.

  “Come again for me, baby. Let’s go over together.”

  She turned her head back to mine, looked up at me, her mouth slick and swollen from my kisses, her cheeks flushed, her hair clinging damply to her sweaty brow. “I’ve never…I need to touch myself to come.”

  Her hand moved down and worked its way between our bodies, but I shifted my weight so I could grab her wrist, lift it up above her head until I could clasp it with my free hand. I shook my head, as I continued to watch her. “You’re going to come, baby, and I’m going to give it to you. That’s my job now.”

  If she needed her clit played with, it was going to be my hand to do it. Shifting back slightly, I slipped my hand between us until I found that hard pearl and began to work it with my thumb.

  Her eyes slipped shut as I felt her inner walls clench down on me. I couldn’t hold my orgasm back any longer. I’d waited all this time for her. Watching her, I could tell when she was close, could feel it, too. Her thighs tightened on my hips and her nipples pebbled even further against my chest.

  Long deep strokes had me close, but it was her orgasm that had me coming with a groan. She practically milked the cum from my cock as she came all over me, my name a quiet gasp on her lips. I groaned at the pleasure, shifting my hips to eek every last bit of it from her body.

  Breathing hard, I fell to my side, pulling her into me. My hand rested across her torso and perfectly placed, cupped her breast. This was my everything, right here, and there was no going back.

  I should have resisted, but I was weak. I should have kept her at a distance, but I had no willpower. I should have kept her away from me and the problems my father brought me, and in turn, her, but I lost the battle. She was too strong of an opponent and while I'd given it my all, it seemed love came out the victor.

  Shit.

  The sound of my cell vibrating against the bedside table had us stirring, but I ignored it. Instead, I reluctantly climbed from the bed and went to the bathroom to get rid of the condom. By the time I returned, Emory had pulled the sheet over her. I inwardly sighed at her modesty—there wasn’t a part of her I hadn’t seen—but was sweetly pleased by her continued innocence.

  “You have no qualms about being naked, do you?” she asked, the corner of her mouth turning up toward a smile. Her eyes roved over my body and latched on to my groin. My cock stirred to life beneath her intent gaze and it made her eyes widen. “Already?” she asked with breathy surprise.

  Placing one knee on the edge of the bed, I yanked the covers from her grip, ready to show her a few more ungentlemanly things, but my cell vibrated again.

  “You should get that,” she told me. I was enjoying seeing the desire in her eyes.

  I sighed, not wanting anything or anyone to get in the way of being with Emory, but ignoring the world didn’t mean it would go away.

  I leaned and grabbed the phone. “Yeah.”

  “I found him.” Reed.

  I took my leg off the bed and turned away from Emory. I didn’t want the sight of her naked body, of her innocence, combined with any conversation about my dad.

  “Where?”

  “Atlantic City. He�
��s been there since Tuesday.”

  I hit the End button and tossed my cell back on the table where it clattered then fell onto the floor.

  This news meant he either arranged for someone to break in to Emory’s house or knew nothing about it. I had a niggling, annoying feeling that it was the latter. That meant there was someone out there—not my father—who wanted to hurt Emory.

  “What is it?” Emory asked behind my back.

  I wanted to keep her separate, keep her safe from my past. I’d wanted to push her away, even told her I was nothing but trouble for her, but neither of us, it seemed, cared. I wanted the present, the now, to be much stronger than the past, but that was not a sure thing right now.

  I turned, eyed her.

  She tilted up her chin. “Tell me. I want to know. I need to know.”

  I gave a stiff nod and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. I grabbed the top of the sheet and lifted it up. She somehow knew I wanted her covered. Maybe it was the grim set to my jaw or the pissed-off glint in my eye.

  “It’s time I told you about my past. My dad.”

  EMORY

  All of the heat that had been in Gray’s eyes was gone, and what was left was icy and empty. I held the sheet up over my breasts and leaned back against the headboard. While Gray was naked and sitting sideways on the bed, it felt better being covered for this, wanting only the other Gray, the eager-for-me Gray, to see my body.

  “My father was, is, an asshole.” Gray leaned down, resting his forearms on his thighs. He wasn’t looking at me, but at the far wall, although I wasn’t sure if he was even seeing it. He was looking into his past, into his memories and I dreaded what he was going to say.

  “He used to hit my mom. When I was really little, all I remember is them shouting, the sound of the slaps, her crying. I would hide in the closet.”

  The words came out short and clipped, dark and laced with grit. I wanted to ask him questions, but knew it was hard enough to get the words out without prodding. He’d held them in, probably, for a long time.