Sweet as Syn

26: SYN-More

I wake up laughing.

Laughing.

Am I a morning person now?

Greyson set his alarm to "My Humps" for me and yanked me out of bed, peppering wet kisses all over my face. We slow dance—yes, slow dance—to the Black Eyed Peas, until I feel him harden against my body, digging against my abs. The air cackles around us as he puts his mouth to my neck and whispers how sweet it feels to wake up next to me. Since our groins don't align because he's that much taller, I jump, cinching my legs around his waist, aligning myself with his length. As he continues whispering sweet nothings in my ear, liquid arousal drips between my legs, and I know he can feel it when he takes my earlobe between his teeth and groans. "If we start, I'll make you late to your eight a.m.," he mumbles against the side of my temple, his voice raspy. "And we both still have to shower and eat."

I grab onto his neck with my teeth and squeeze my thighs around his girth, moaning, "Let's shower together." He rakes his hand from under my knee to my ass, biting roughly into it, rubbing me harder against himself. "And we can eat each other for breakfast," I whisper, and feel him pulsate between my legs.

I have no clue where this sexual monster energy of mine sprang from, but the second—and yes, the literal second—I met Greyson, I've been hornier than a boy whose balls just dropped. I should probably be nervous and more reserved about sex, but I want Greyson's hands and mouth and body all over mine. No fear on my end.

He plants me to my feet and we watch each other carefully as we remove our clothes, a naked heat burning in both our eyes as we do so.

"Beautiful," he whispers on an exhale, running his hand over his beard. He hasn't shaved in two weeks, and it somehow makes him appear more terrifyingly male than usual. I can't wait to wet that beard.

He turns the water on and makes it extra hot, just the way I like it, before beckoning me into the shower with him. He pulls me under the water and runs both hands over my hair, soaking and pulling it out of my face before cupping my cheeks.

"So damn beautiful."

I know I'm a nerdy tomboy with zero sexual experience, but Greyson makes me feel like the sexiest, most cherished woman alive. With him, I am no longer an eighteen-year-old dork that has nightmares and gets bullied on the cheer team and has a messed up past... I'm Syn: confident, sexy and smart. I'm beginning to see myself through his eyes, and it feels real friggin' good.

"Grey?"

"Yeah, baby?"

My gaze drops to his quickly hardening package, then back up to his chiseled face. "Can you show me how to touch you?"

His brows slightly lift. "Is that what you want?"

I know he knows about my past, and he's probably more worried for me than I am for myself, which is nice. But I want him. I want to make him feel good.

I reach up and hold his wrists that are still on my face, and bat my eyelashes at him. That innocent look seems to do the trick in convincing him, and his dick gets so hard it pokes against his abs.

"I want you—"

Before I could finish that sentence, he took my hand and placed it directly over his erection, like he did yesterday in the car. A shiver runs through me, having his hot hardness in the control of my hand.

"Wrap your fist around it, like this," he begins, cupping my hand and forcing me to grip his base tighter than I would've ever thought he'd like it.

"That doesn't hurt?"

He chuckles and ducks his head to give me a kiss so passionate I forget my own name, pulling me flush against him. Too close to have my hand on him, so he is pressed against my bare torso. I didn't even realize he grabbed shampoo until he started rubbing it through my hair, massaging my scalp while he continued kissing me.