Page 95 of Lessons In Grey
I swallowed, staring at a speck on the ceiling where the paint hadn’t set right.
Grey trailed a finger softly down the inside of my left wrist, causing goosebumps to spread across my body, my nipples hardening. I wondered what he thought when he saw those scars now.
“Many people have died seeking out something like that. Women being convinced that this man straight out of prison is going to do for her what a person like that would do for a girl in some book they read.”
Grey put a knee on the bed and leaned over me, trying to catch my eyes. “What they don’t understand is that men like that rarely exist, and the chances of them finding someone like that, who is actually good, actually a decent person, actually healthy, is impossible. It will always be toxic, their lives would never be normal. That woman would be surrounded by danger every moment of every day. His enemies would become her enemies, and she would become a weapon in his destruction.”
I swallowed as his hand slid around my jaw, his eyes so full of lust, I could feel it dripping down my skin. “Then why are you here?” I whispered, eyes falling to his lips.
He flicked his tongue over them. “I guess I’m just that selfish.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, his chest expanding and contracting. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his eyes finding mine.
I searched his eyes, a slight panic filling my lungs at that word. “Make me trust you,” I breathed back.
His lips parted as if he could barely handle my words. He pressed his thumb between my lips until I was forced to open them, letting him slide it in, pressing down firmly on my tongue. “Suck,” he instructed.
I wrapped my lips around it, watched as his eyes fluttered closed, as his head fell back, which only egged me on. I suckled on it the best I could with how he was pressing into my tongue, the arousal, once again, dripping down my thighs at the way he was reacting. I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked, wrapping my hands around the ties rather than the headrest, the silk soft against my skin.
“Fuck,” he groaned, finding my eyes again. He pulled his thumb out and slid it between his own lips, groaning as if the taste of my mouth was just a tickle of the high he needed to feel simmering in his bones.
He got off the bed and pulled off his shirt, tossing it to one side.
I relaxed back in the bed, watching him as he moved around the room. “Does that make me a…bunny?” I asked with a slight sneer.
He looked over from where he was on his knees, pulling something out from under the bed, a smile touching his lips. “Not a fan of the term?”
I shrugged, looking back to the ceiling. “I don’t want to insult anyone, but no, it’s strange to me that people get hot and bothered by a profession. I just can’t understand it.”
“You asked if you were a bunny because you find what I do attractive,” he stated without degradation.
I shrugged, staring at that spot again, feeling nervous about the subject. “I…when you talked about tying Diamond up, all I could picture was you standing above him with your gun in your hand and this…look in your eyes, wearing that suit you always wear.” I pressed my thighs together at just the thought. “And when you just decided that you were going to go kill Jordan. You loaded the gun and you just left.” I chewed on my lip, remembering that moment. “So confident, unafraid,” I said almost to myself. A man in every sense of the word.
He appeared at my side again, but this time he had a knife in hand, causing a twinge of fear to slam down my spine. “Stay still,”he instructed before sliding the knife under the center of my bra and flicking his wrist with ease, snapping the bra in two.
I gasped, my breathing turning to panting once again.
Grey smiled as he cut each strap and pulled it out from under me. “Control,” he told me softly, setting the knife on the nightstand. “It’s not the title that drives you insane, it’s the control. I knew that the first day we spoke.”
My eyes widened, the feeling of exposure almost overwhelming as his eyes lingered on my breasts. “On the what?” I said, my voice a higher octave than normal.
He chuckled. “I told you to look me in the eyes, and you did. Despite your nervousness, there was a type of relief in your gaze, as if you had been craving someone to just tell you what to do. To guide you.”
I swallowed, glancing down to my own tits and then back up to him as he walked back around the bed to the end of it where he had placed a few items. “There has to be a metaphor in that,” I breathed out, my mind spinning.
He unbuckled his pants and straightened. “We can unpack it if you want.” He pointed a finger at me and flicked it up.
I bucked my hips up, grateful that he was finally taking my pants off. Sitting in my own arousal was uncomfortable.
He slid my pants and underwear off with ease, tossing them to one side. “Your mind is filled with untethered chaos,” he explained, turning towards the things he laid out on the bed. “You can’t control the thoughts that run through it. You haven’t been able to control anything in your life. How people looked at you, how your mind worked, your father bringing those people into your lives, what happened last year and everything that happened after that.”
I watched as he picked up what looked like a cat toy. A long leather bound stick with three feathers tied to the end.
“Nobody has ever told you what to do besides telling you to get better or to get over it.” He turned back to me, looking meover again, this hungry look filling his eyes. “Just in case you need it,” he started gently, his eyes finding mine, “if you start to feel overwhelmed or unsafe or like you just need to be done, you need to tell me, do you understand?”
My mouth had gone dry. “Okay,” I cracked.
“I’m serious, Emily,” he said, his brow furrowing. “I’m very serious. Pick a safe word, any safe word, preferably one syllable. Something that is important to you but that wouldn’t come up in natural conversation. This word will be used whenever you feel like you need out, understood?”
I nodded, letting my head fall back against the pillows again. I closed my eyes, my entire body on fire already. A word, important to me that wouldn’t come up in regular conversation.