She realized how close he was when he’d growled against her lips. His hips thrust upwards into the woman’s mouth in a quick, steady rhythm, gripping her high ponytail to direct her movement.

“Where do you want me to finish, rabbit?”

She could have said anything, could have said anywhere. She could’ve instructed him to line up both of the girls and paint their faces in thick gobs of white release, could have ordered the blonde not to waste a single drop, to lick it from her companion. But they were humans, she’d reminded herself. He had a pitifully low opinion of humans, his father’s rhetoric, she’d quickly learned, once she found herself internalizing more and more. They were superior, and neither of these girls was worthy of a single drop.

“In my mouth,” she breathed against his lips, her heart somersaulting when he smiled, kissing the tip of her nose before pulling out of the blonde’s mouth and pushing to his feet. The girl was gasping.

Vanessa tightened her lips around the flared edge of his cockhead when it bumped her lips, using her tongue to lave at him as he erupted with a groan. Her smile may have been smug when she finally released him, but she’d reminded herself that this was their holiday, and the humans were seat fillers.

We all have our parts to play.

Unfortunately for him, he was stuck with her now, not that her sloppy technique and minimal ability seemed to matter much to him just then. He had both hands on her head now, fingers through her dark hair, holding her in place as his hips did the work. She let him fuck her mouth for several minutes more, able to tell from his breathing when he was close. He was not finishing this way, not after she put in so much effort working him up, for, despite his strangled threats, he had let her edge his cock for close to an hour.

Vanessa understood why he was such an asshole; that privilege led to the expectation of more privilege, for she now felt that she possessed an all-access pass to his body, free to do whatever she wanted to him, whenever she wanted to do it. His stomach was slick from the pool of pre-come he’d been drooling, his balls tight and sensitive, and she decided, with one last, sucking kiss to his

swollen, purple head, that she had tortured him enough. His poor, oft-abused brain could use the dopamine hit, and she wanted to feel him explode inside her.

The meat of his shaft slid between her thighs as she swung her leg over his hips, fitting in the cleft of her cunt as if he belonged there, which she supposed he did.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time if you don’t mean it, Mr. Hemming.”

He managed to push himself up, somehow going from his back to his knees without dislodging her, impaling her on his cock in one slow thrust. Vanessa dropped her head back when his hips began to move, and she whimpered when his teeth grazed her throat, her eyes feeling as if they were spinning in her skull as his girth dragged over her g-spot. It was one of her favorite positions — all the benefits of cowgirl, bouncing on the fat length of him, feeling his knot press against the mouth of her cunt on every thrust, not quite breaching, but providing the delicious threat of doing so, and best of all

— she didn’t need to do any of the physical work. He held her up, his hips moving like a machine, allowing her to enjoy the pleasure with none of the strain.

She gasped when he hit something inside her, some hidden spot in her anatomy that only he’d ever been able to reach in such a way, and he chuckled.

“Right there?”

“Right there,” she agreed on a wheeze, moaning when he continued to hammer into the same spot.

“Right there, then.” He groaned when she squeezed him, fingers digging into her ass. His eyes were closed, his head tipped slightly back, and she wondered if she shared his slightly blissed-out expression, confident that she did.

“Just like that . . .” He rolled a finger against the hood of her clit, slowing the movement of his hips. Every time her pelvic floor contracted in pleasure, he groaned against her hair, relishing the clench of her muscles. He rubbed her clit and she squeezed his cock, earning the gift of that throaty little moan in response, a cycle she’d be happy to continue endlessly. “Squeeze me just like that, baby.” His face dropped against her neck, and for a moment, Vanessa couldn’t quite remember what he’d done to earn his punishment. “Hold me tight, rabbit. I love your pussy so much . . . This tight little pussy was made for my cock.”

“She loves your big cock,” she keened in agreement, going cross-eyed from the way he was dragging over that spongy spot within her, hitting the side of her cervix in a way that turned her lungs inside out instead of stabbing at it painfully.

She was forced to admit that he knew how to use it. She’d been with well-endowed guys before who seemed to think the size of their cocks would make up for their lack of bedroom skill, but

Grayson instinctively knew how to move within her, how to best twist and contort her body to feel the rub of his girth on the most sensitive parts of her anatomy until her spine turned to jelly and she was unable to support herself, stretching her open and filling her completely, even in the weeks when his knot wasn’t a factor.

Which was, she thought, as his fingers rolled over her clit, causing her stomach muscles to seize up as she cried out, the most important lesson of all — the moon’s position in the sky had very little to do with their appetite for each other, and they had dispensed with the pretense of this being limited time diversion.

The pressure of his knot, like an overinflated balloon teasing entrance at her lips on every thrust, made her squeak like a toy when he began to fuck her in earnest, his hips snapping. The first sparks of light made her dizzy, the promise of relief, to cool the fire in her blood and ease the ache she felt for him, and she flailed, wanting to race towards the light.

“I’m so close,” she gasped, tightening her arms around his shoulders, feeling the first shivers of her impending climax shaking her legs.

“What was that, rabbit? I didn’t quite catch that.” Abruptly, he stopped moving, the pressure she needed vanishing. She gaped for several interminable heartbeats, the sparks ebbing away, the tide of her orgasm receding. His deep chuckle, when she tightened her grip on his shoulders, was gleefully malevolent.

“Grayson, I swear to the mother, if you don’t keep going . . .”

“Mmmmm,” he hummed against her temple, moving a hand to lightly grip her throat, tracing her lips with the tip of his thumb. “Always with the smart mouth and the pouty little sneers,” he murmured, kissing her forehead as if she were a porcelain doll. She needed him to move, needed friction against her clit and the full pressure of his cock thrusting within her, but all he did was run a light fingertip down her sternum, circling her nipple and gently cupping her breast. “You always have to be right, Vanessa; that’s the problem. You push, and you pull like it’s going to accomplish something, and you’re still operating under the delusion that you’re in charge. This is why we can’t have nice things.”

She slowly let out the breath she’d been holding and closed her eyes. He was a bossy asshole, and he wanted to dominate her. All she had to do, she reminded herself peevishly, was let him. He was an egotistical prick, but he was her prick.

“Tell me what you want, rabbit. All you have to do is ask.”

Dragging her nose against his throat, she peppered the sharp edge of his jaw with tiny kisses. She loved how he smelled and would never be able to smell another person in the whole world; she was

sure of it. She loved the heat of his body and the solidity of it against hers, the change already boiling his blood. Tightening her thighs around his hips to pull him closer, she wondered if it would never feel close enough. This is how he always wins.