Elevator Pitch (Hapless In Love #1)

42. Fine Line

42

fine line

Selah

Manhattan, NY | January 19, 2024

I’m rewarded with a swipe of his tongue, and when I throw my head back to cry out, he stops as promised.

Eyes on me, or I’ll stop.

I beg for him to continue, and he does once my eyes are back on him. Greyson on his knees, focusing on my pleasure, is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m certain I could come just from this view. My legs tremble and squeeze around his face, but his tongue doesn’t falter. He stares at me with daring eyes when he pulls my legs apart and holds them open. He delves his tongue inside my channel, fucking it in and out of me as I whimper.

When he stops teasing me, he swirls his tongue around my clit and flicks until I beg and sob. He slips his fingers inside of me and curls them, and I grip his hair as I buck against him.

His moans vibrate through my core as he latches on my sensitive clit, urging me to come. I scream out his name, and he laps up every drop as I ride out my orgasm.

He stands before me, and I gawk at the glistening arousal on his face .

“You listened so well and kept your eyes on me. That’s my good girl. You want to come again?”

“Yes, please.”

I don’t care how eager I sound. I need him.

I wrap my arms around his neck when he grips my thighs to carry me to the couch. He seats me on his lap, and I straddle him.

“Show me how needy you are for my dick. Grind on my thigh.”

I stare down at his thigh nervously as I lift my dress, lowering myself on it. I’ve never done this before, and I’m nervous. I focus on my rhythm, rocking against his thigh. It feels so fucking good, and I bite my lip, returning his gaze.

“That’s it. You’re doing so good.”

I grind harder at his praise, eager for more. I lean into him to lick his neck and moan in his ear. He groans and palms his bulging erection through his pants.

“Use my thigh, baby.”

I grind faster, arching into him, and he trails his tongue around my nipples, sucking as I feel my pleasure building. I wail his name when I reach my climax.

“Fuck, yes,” he urges.

He grips my hips as I ride his thigh.

“Grey, oh god,” I pant.

He’s entranced by me as I come down.

“You called me Grey. It was a matter of time, nasty girl.”

“Shut up,” I chuckle. “You’re annoying.”

I slump against him, and he carries me to the bedroom. I take his lips tenderly, moaning into his mouth.

He flicks on the lights when we get to his room and sets me on the bed. I argue for him to turn them off, but he refuses. Claims he wants to see all of me but agrees to dim the lights as a compromise if it makes me more comfortable.

He laughs at my feet dangling off the edge of his tall bed while he undresses. I’m practically salivating as I drink him in. His physique is remarkable with sinewy muscles and veiny arms. He has a few more tattoos he’s revealing to me and my curiosity is piqued. I squeeze my thighs together as I admire this beautiful man before me. He keeps his boxers on then grabs a condom from the nightstand, and I take that as a cue to undress myself. I’ve barely slipped out of my minidress when I catch him standing in front of me.

“I didn’t ask you to undress, did I?”

I freeze and hold my hands out in surrender, though my eyes are still on his boxers and the hard dick I’ve fantasized about for months.

“You didn’t,” I say slowly.

“Are you eager for me, Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Well, if you’re so eager, let me help,” he suggests, pulling down the zipper with too much force, and it rips.

“Shit,” he says with a wince.

I gasp, assessing the ripped seam.

I really liked this dress.

“Dammit, Greyson,” I whine.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll buy you one in every color.”

He kneels before me and presses a kiss to the tattoo on my ankle. My frustration dissipates as he kisses me all over my body, paying extra attention to my tattoos.

“I’m going to kiss these tattoos and you’re going to tell me what inspired them. I understand you’re excited, but you won’t get what you want until I get answers,” he orders.

I can hardly focus on what he said as he drives me wild, toying with my nipples in between kisses. I whimper in response as he kisses below my bra line, patiently waiting for me to name the song that inspired that tattoo.

“Fine Line,” I whisper.

He drags his mouth further down, peppering kisses along my ribs where an open birdcage rests.

“Gone Girl,” I say in between breaths .

“We’re almost done. You’re doing great.”

He gently kisses the flying bluebird with a honey dipper alongside the cage.

“Last one, baby,” he urges with a pinch to my nipple.

“Daylight,” I whine.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he teases.

He’s a fucking menace.

He rises to drop his boxers, and I watch in awe as he rips open the condom and rolls it onto his dick.

“Lie back for me.”

I oblige quickly, spreading my legs for him as he kneels on the bed to assess me. Being exposed like this before him should make me feel uncomfortable, but it doesn’t.

I’m also glad I got a wax.

I hold my legs back as he rubs his dick against my aching pussy until I beg. I’m so fucking wet and pleading for him. Finally, he sinks into me and I gasp.

He pushes in slowly, allowing me to adjust to his size.

“You feel amazing. Fuck.” His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls out all the way to the crown. “You have plans tomorrow, Selah?”

I shake my head, unsure of why he’s asking that now.

“Good. ‘Cause you’re about to be up all night.”

My eyes widen as he ruts into me. Hard.

Oh god.

I moan and shut my eyes, and he halts his movements.

“Same rule applies. Eyes on me, or I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

I look up at him and gulp.

“Yes, Daddy.”

He thrusts deeper into me, and I hold his gaze, only looking away to occasionally watch him slide in and out of me. I reach down to dust my fingers over my clit and he raises a brow before fucking me harder.

“That’s it, Princess. Rub that pretty pussy until you come. ”

I take his punishing thrusts, keeping my hand on my sensitive nub as I writhe beneath him and grip the sheet with my free hand.

Our moans fill the room and I plead for more, begging him not to stop. His thrusts are unrelenting as I convulse beneath him, crying out his name. He follows behind with my name on his lips, and it's the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. He collapses beside me and I roll onto my side with a devious grin as I suck my arousal off my fingers, holding eye contact. He rips my hand away and places it in his mouth.

He’s so fucking sexy. Shit.

I follow him into the bathroom, and he cleans us up. He mentions he’s surprised that I didn’t argue and just let him take care of me. I take a moment to myself before joining him in the bedroom and process what just happened. Mama will love to hear that he’s a very good neighbor. I’ll tell her tomorrow.

Women get fucked like this in books, and men only talk like that in them. What woman wrote Grey? I’d like to thank her for her service.

I enter his bedroom and toss his shirt over my head before lying beside him and nestling into his chest. To my surprise, he lets me rest against him.

“I’ll send you those songs in the morning since you tortured me over them,” I giggle.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy yourself,” he teases.

I hum, nestling further into his chest, as I trace the one-frame tattoo on his right forearm with two cranes. I sit up and press a soft kiss to the tattoo before resting back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. After a moment, I break the silence.

“What does this one mean?” I ask softly.

“The cranes in my culture represent longevity, purity, and peace. I got it during a time when I really needed hope.”

“Did you ever find it?”

“I did.”

“Good,” I say sleepily.