#grayson hawthorne dirty dreamer

[cherrys-writings]

Do you have any idea when ur next fic is going to be out ?

18+ only

Missed You

You stumble through the dark halls of your family’s estate, the promise of your bed the only thing keeping awake now. You round the corner, there’s a light under your door. Silently opening the door and walking through the sitting area to your bedroom. Through the dim glow you can just make out Grayson under your blankets, fast asleep with the most adorable pout on his face. You tip-toe by, slipping into just a long t-shirt and watch him for a minute. Grayson shifts around groaning, “So wet for me. Dirty girl, you gonna let me have a taste?”

You stare, open mouthed, at your boyfriend; his mumbles pleas pushing away your fatigue momentarily.  

“It’s been too long, Dove, need you to come on my face. Won’t stop ‘til you’re crying.”

Before you know it, you’re on your knees beside his sleeping form, kissing his stomach where his shirt rumpled up. Grayson sighs, but shows no sign of waking. You lean down to kiss your way up his neck, quietly giggling at how responsive he is, leaning his head to the side asking for more. Slowly, you kiss and nip your way to his ear murmuring, “Wake up, Gray.” 

After an eternity, he stirs, hands tangling in your hair, “You’re home,” his voice raspy, “I wanted to be the first person to see you when you got back, Dove.” 

He kisses you long and slow, like he could make the moment last forever. You pull away, resting your forehead against his, “Were you having a good dream?”

Grayson’s eyes widen, instead of responding, he pulls you down for another searing kiss. Tongue sliding against yours, savoring the soft gasps that escape. He groans when you suck his lip into your mouth, softly biting him. His hands wander down your body, squeezing your ass, sliding down the backs of your thighs, guiding your knees apart until you’re straddling him. You feel the rumble of another groan against your mouth when he realises you aren’t wearing panties and immediately grinds your soaked core against him.

 “Awe sweetheart, did hearing my dream make you all needy? You gonna let me fix that?” 

You nuzzle his neck, humming your assent and trailing open mouthed kisses along his jaw. He sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, ruffling his light hair. You let yourself stare and trace the familiar lines on his body. Grayson Hawthorne. Your Gray. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close to him. Though you memorised every inch of him, the curve of his shoulders and feel of his flushed skin against you, your sleep-addled brain needs to make sure he’s real. 

  “Now that you have me you can’t decide what you want.”Grayson gently lifts your chin with his finger, “How about you sit on my face, Dove? I need to feel you gushing all over me, taste you for real. Please.”

Your mouth collides with his, pushing him down on the mattress, hungerly silencing whatever filthy words were about to follow. He could make you come by his words alone. Pulling away and smirking at his lust blown eyes, you shuffle up his body, resting your hands on the headboard. Impatiently, Grayson hooks his arms around your thighs, tugging you down to him. Moaning at how tightly he presses you against his face, tongue slowly moving against your folds. Gray’s groans send sparks up your spine, arousal pooling against his mouth. He circles your clit with his tongue, the lightest touch making you writhe against his hold, it’s somehow too much and not enough. Grayson has an iron grip on your thighs, firmly keeping me seated when he seals his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. 

“Grayson,” you wail, nearly doubling over, your hands tangled in his hair. Tears pricking at your eyes at the tightening in your abdomen, moans falling from your lips. His name catches in your throat, white overtaking your vision. Grayson’s tongue teases your entrance, thumbs stroking your oversensitive bundle of nerves, as you fall apart above him.

“Taste better than you did in my dream, Dove,” Grayson murmurs against you. 

One isn’t enough for him. Grayson lazily drags his tongue along your slit, flicking your clit every time. You gasp, shuddering thighs clamping around his head. Vibrations from his groans send fire up your spine. Combined with his merciless tongue, you’re falling apart all over again, nearly going limp. Grayson manhandles your pleasure wracked body until you’re resting your head on his chest, unconsciously rubbing your overstimulated cunt against his bulge. 

“Fuck, I need you Gray,” you whine.

He chuckles at just how needy you’ve gotten, helping you clumsily take his pants off. Then he’s stretched above you, rubbing his cock through your folds. You watch as his leaking cockhead slides through your arousal, bumping your clit each time. 

Grayson pulls your hair back, forcing you to look at him, “you’re gonna look me in the eyes when I shove my cock into you.”

His eyes nearly black with lust hold yours as he pushes into you, groaning loudly, “fuck I missed this pussy.” 

Grayson rests his forehead against yours, grinding his hips slowly against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, whining and pulling him tighter against you. Grayson continues the torturously slow rolling, barely pulling out before hitting that spot deep inside of you over and over. He bites and sucks along your neck leaving deep purple marks, pulling more broken moans from you. Grayson groans when your nails dig into his back, shallow scratches decorating his shoulder blades. 

“Love being inside you,” he pants into your ear, “never wanna leave.” 

You let out a long wail when his hand finds your clit, rubbing tight circles. 

“That’s it, Dove. One more.” he punctuates his words with several hard thrusts, punching the air from your lungs. 

“Grayson,” your words breathy, “Grayson, ff-fuck Grayson please. Pleasepleaseplease.” 

White overtakes your vision once more as you come, scream caught in your throat, clenching hard around Grayson’s dick. Grayson bites your shoulder, silencing the moans of his own release. He continues rutting into you, whining. He rolls to his back, pulling you with him to rest on his chest, fingers trailing down your spine. You let out a small yawn, fatigue creeping back in. 

“Rest up, Dove,” Grayson whispers, “I’m not letting you leave this bed come morning.”