His Trouble Maker

Chapter 85

JESSICA

A sigh slips from my lips–soft, unguarded. My hips shift on instinct, chasing something solid, something to press the ache away. My thighs slide together, slick and restless, and the sheets cling to my skin like heat has melted me into the mattress.

Then–A lick. Slow. Warm. Trailing right over my nipple. My breath catches.

Teeth graze me. A soft bite. Like he’s claiming what he already knows is his.

My back arches, traitorous. My legs spread, begging. A moan–broken and bitten down–escapes before I can lock it behind my teeth.

And then it hits me.

This isn’t a dream.

Dreams don’t come with breath this hot. With hands this big, this rough, this familiar. Dreams don’t make your whole body throb with memory.

I freeze.

My eyes fly open, lashes clumped with sweat. Darkness. The scent of him–feral, earthy, unmistakable–floods me before sight. does. That scént. That goddamn scent.

Grayson.

His name slams into my chest like a fucking curse. I suck in a breath, sharp enough to cut my lungs. My brain screams at my limbs to move, to push, to scream–but I’m melting. Failing.

His mouth is still on me. Licking. Sucking. Drawing circles around my nipple like it’s his favorite thing he almost forgot he owned.

I whimper again. Louder this time. He groans against me like he heard it and liked it.

“Grayson,” I rasp. It comes out cracked. Weak. Like I don’t mean it.

He kisses up my chest, past my collarbone, tongue lazy, cruel. “Morning, baby.”

I grab his wrist, but it’s like trying to stop a flood with my fingers. His body is everywhere. On top of me. Inside me. In my fucking

head.

“You’re back,” I whisper, reaching for his face.

Grayson’s mouth drags up my throat. “Miss me?” he mutters against my jaw before he continues showering kisses there. I’m not really dreaming am I?

My nails bite into his shoulders–I don’t even know if I’m pushing him off or dragging him closer. Maybe both. “You left me.” I gasp. “Like I was nothing.”

He pauses–just for a breath. His hand flexes against my thigh. Then his mouth is on me again, rougher this time. Possessive. Like he’s answering me with his teeth.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” he growls, mouth dragging over my chest like a man starved. “I don’t know how to fix it. I just–1

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Chapter 85

can’t stay away from you.”

He kisses me–finally, fully–like he’s trying to erase every second we spent apart with his tongue. It’s rough. Desperate. Too much. His hands are under my thighs, gripping my ass, dragging me closer like he’s starving for it. Like I’m his last f*cking meal.

feel him–hard, hot, pulsing through his

you,” he breathes into my mouth, voice cracked and wrecked.

That’s when I snap.

shove at his chest. Hard. My breath’s ragged, my lips swollen, thighs still shaking from the way he held me.

desperate.

is low, strained. “But I still think this is

stupid?” I snap, pushing him again–hard, this time. “Then what the fuck are

voice breaks, but my hands won’t

your not my mate Jess. What

doing here? Huh? To remind me I’m not yours? Rub it

that you’re not

thigh’s between mine and I can feel everything. The heat. The pressure. My panties sticking to me. I can’t breathe. Fuck. He’s hard–pressed right against me. I

whisper, voice breaking.

into rnine–wild, angry, too much tongue. I moan. Loud. Shameless. My thighs clamp around his. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. Grayson has me–he fucking has

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

drags up my thigh, knuckles rough. He palms between my legs, cups me through the soaked cotton, and lets out this shuddering breath

“That’s mine, Jess. That’s fucking

because my hips

“Grayson–please-”

it pissed him off. The fabric bunches under my arms. I’m half–naked, panting, and his mouth is everywhere–wet, open, devouring. My sternum. My ribs. The space right

it–him, thick and hard

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Chapter 85

“Oh my–fuck–Grayson-”

I can’t.

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ย

they’re part of my skin. And

My legs twitch.

My body jerks.

it. He’s doing it. He’s making

gonna come just like this?” he growls against my neck. “Huh? Just from me humping you like

I can’t

Because yes.

I am. I’m

“Fuck–Grayson-”

My fingers curl into his

like a wave

don’t even know what’s happening

Just slick. Just

I’m shaking.

Hard.

can’t feel my

nerves don’t know it’s

whisper, but it’s just air. I don’t even know why I

His forehead drops

that. From grinding. From him barely touching