Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“You think we’ll hear from Gray’s dad tonight?” Savanna asked once they’d closed themselves inside her bedroom. She yanked at the hair tie, her locks tumbling in waves over her shoulders. “We’re lucky you have such a high-level government contact,” she added when Griffin had yet to speak. She tossed the hair tie on the dresser and spun around to see why he was still silent.
After they’d had dinner with the rest of the team, everyone scattered from the dining area and got back to work, leaving her and Griffin alone. Each time she stole looks at Gray throughout the meal, his eyes darted between her and Griffin. Judging by how tightly the man’s jaw was locked whenever their eyes met, he was clearly concerned that Griffin wouldn’t follow through with his order.
God, she hoped Griffin disobeyed.
“Where’s your head at?” she softly asked, making her way to where he stood at the window.
He had a palm on the glass, his eyes set on the view of the water, not that it was all that visible in the darkness. Carter had minimized the lighting around the former hotel—and for good reason.
When she set a hand on the middle of his back, Griffin hung his head and sighed, prompting guilt to rear its ugly head within Savanna. “It’s okay. I would never want you to do anything you’d regret.”
A low, grumbly sound left his mouth. Were those words? “I wouldn’t regret . . . it’s not that.”
“You’re afraid of hurting me?” She ran her hand up and down his hard, taut back, hoping to ease his tension some. “Or getting hurt?” she whispered at the memory of his words just the other day in the truck in Bama.
His other hand went to the French door now, and she peeked over his shoulder at his tense hands. “I have two condoms in my wallet right now. I always have two. Because I do pick up women in bars. I have meaningless and casual sex.” His harsh, low tone—and well, his words—had her lowering her hand and stumbling backward. “And then I disappear once they fall asleep.” His voice became even deeper, which she hadn’t thought possible. “I’m an asshole. But I never wanted to give anyone the wrong idea. To let them think I was the kind of guy who’d still be there when the sun came up.”
She swore her heart skipped a few beats just then. He was sending her a message. Letting her know if they were to have sex, he’d peace-out immediately afterward. He wouldn’t be like Marcus, who’d brought her breakfast in bed. Who’d sent her adorable messages after their first time together. No good morning, beautiful texts.
Even if Savanna insisted that she didn’t care, that what he was able to offer was enough, he’d know she was lying. Because it was very much a big fat lie. No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise. It wasn’t just Griffin’s touch she craved. Timewise, they barely knew each other, but she truly believed there was a connection that ran deep between them. Maybe it’s all in my head? I imagined it. Wanted to believe there’s hope for me. That I won’t die alone.
Griffin remained unmoving aside from the flex of his biceps as his hands clenched into fists against the glass. “The idea of leaving you alone in that bed after I’ve had you . . . doesn’t seem possible,” he rasped. “So, to answer your earlier questions,” he began while slowly dropping his fists and turning to face her, a dark, predatory look in his gaze, “it’s obvious I’ve never been in a serious relationship, and it’s not the divorce that messed me up—it was my mom’s cheating.”
Savanna’s heart squeezed at the sad look in his eyes competing with the one of desire.
“And also,” he said as he erased the space between them, set his hand on the curve of her hip, and pulled her close. “No, I won’t listen to Gray. Because I want you.” He tipped her chin up and fixed his eyes on hers. “I’d break orders for you. It seems I’d do just about anything for you. Probably burn the entire fucking world down just to have you in my arms.” His lips seized hers in the next moment, taking control.
That kiss surpassed the ones she’d read about in romance novels and made her feel weak. Made her forget how to use actual words the moment his lips crashed against hers and took possession of her mouth as if he truly owned her. Had he not been holding her to his powerful frame, she’d have collapsed to the floor.
She was intoxicated with emotion. Dizzy and overwhelmed by so many feelings that her chest felt like it was about to burst. And as the kisses continued, goose bumps scattered across her skin each time Griffin gently bit her lower lip before teasing her mouth apart to slip his tongue inside.
His hands worked up the silhouette of her body before he framed her cheeks with his palms and eased back to look into her eyes. He wanted to say something. To warn her, maybe? To tell her he still might break her heart after this, but she didn’t want to hear it. And when he bit down on his back teeth, his jaw clenching, she was pretty sure he didn’t want to say it, either.
She reached between them and fisted the fabric of his black tee in an attempt to beg him to back away from his dark thoughts and stay with her. To lose the sudden haunted look in his eyes.
“James Griffin,” she whispered softly, not sure why she’d used his given name, but it’d just slipped free from her mouth, “please make love to me.” Love. Not the naughty fantasies she’d been having since he’d walked into her life a few days ago. No, she wanted love. Needed it. The naughty could come later. Please let there be a later.
“Say that again,” he said in a husky tone as one hand went from her cheek to the nape of her neck. Between his commanding gaze and gripping hold, she was literally weak in the knees.
“Which part?”
Griffin closed his eyes for one second. “No one has ever said either to me before.”
He’d never made love before. One-night stands were about sex, not love. She’d be his first, wouldn’t she? The thought of sharing such an intimate experience with him made her heart race as if she were sprinting a 5k. This man deserved to know what it felt like to make love, how much different sex could be when it was more than just a physical release.
“James Griffin,” she said in a hushed tone, barely able to get her voice to work, “make love to me.”
Those hooded eyes fixed back on her, and the intensity of his stare had her clutching his muscular arms, worried she’d lose her balance.
Griffin trailed his hand from her cheek to her ass and squeezed it in her jeans. He kept his hand at the back of her neck and guided her face to his. He sucked on her lip before something seemed to snap.
His control.
A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, and he stepped away from her, peeling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor, revealing his golden tan chest still marred with bruises from last night.
And then he came at her with quick movements, like a jungle cat pouncing on its prey, which had her walking backward and bumping into the dresser. His fingers worked in a hurry at the buttons of her blouse and clasp of her bra, ridding them from her body in record time.
“Now, take off the rest,” he commanded, his tone sending shivers down her body. She was more than happy to comply, watching greedily as he did the same. And when her gaze slipped to his cock, she realized that no amount of foreplay would get her entirely ready for him, but damn, if the thought of that bite of pain mixed with pleasure didn’t do something to her.
He palmed himself while his gaze journeyed from her breasts down to her toes. “Fucking perfect,” he said under his breath, stroking his hard length from root to tip. Seeing the effect she had on him had her stepping forward and kneeling down where he stood, then sliding her hands up his thighs.
“You don’t need to?—”
“I want to,” she whispered, their eyes locked as she moved his hand away so she could feel him for herself.
When she wrapped a hand around him and licked his crown, he hissed, “Fuck,” while fisting her hair.
She drew as much of him as she could into her mouth, swallowing when he hit the back of her throat. He let out a string of unintelligible words as he worked himself in and out of her, sinking deeper with each thrust. The sensation of him filling her like this was so erotic that she couldn’t help but slide a hand down to her clit to try and ease her desire for him.
“Hands off. No touching yourself,” he bit out, which only turned her on even more, so she brought her hand to the base of his cock and sucked him harder. “I can’t . . . your mouth is too good. You have to stop,” he growled out a minute later, then hooked his hands beneath her arms to command her to stand. “Another time. But right now, I have to be inside of you, Sugar.”
She felt the muscle of his thigh twitch beneath her other hand, and yeah, he was definitely on the verge of losing himself and pouring into her mouth.
“Please,” he rasped while setting a hand on her head again, messing up her hair as if she was torturing him. A good torture, she hoped.
Savanna forced her mouth away to find him staring down at her with his dark eyes, and there was something primal in the way he studied her.
He guided her to her feet only to scoop her into his arms and carry her over to the unmade bed. He set her head on the pillow, grabbed a condom from the end of the bed—which he must have thrown there while she was staring at his dick and wondering how she’d walk straight tomorrow—rolled it down his erection still wet from her mouth, and climbed on top of her.
He tipped his head as he eyed her soaking wet center. The lamp by the dresser was the only light in the room. Not too bright, but just enough to see every expression. Every look of longing in his eyes. And every carved detail of this man’s muscular and powerful frame.
He had one rock-hard thigh on each side of her legs as he thumbed her clit in soft strokes, his eyes not leaving her swollen flesh as if he were resisting the urge to taste her like he’d done earlier at the pool.
“Another time,” she promised, repeating what he’d said to her. “If I don’t feel you inside of me soon—” He cut her off when he pushed three fingers into her tight walls as if trying to prepare her for what was to come. Three fingers wouldn’t ready her for the girth of his cock.
“Please, Griffin,” she cried as he increased his speed, only to cry out again when she felt him slip free of her.
He shifted onto his forearms, lying on top of her so that her breasts touched his chest, and kissed her with feverish intensity. She reached between their bodies and secured a hand around him. She couldn’t wait any longer.
“It’s going to hurt, Sugar,” he said when lifting his head to look into her eyes.
“But only for a moment.” She positioned the head at her sex, rolling her hips up just enough for the tip to slip inside her.
His eyes narrowed, but his breathing was a little labored as if the very idea of finally having her had left him breathless. Same for her.
She leaned up and placed a kiss on his lips, and that was all it took for him to thrust into her completely, filling her deep, and as she’d predicted, the bite of pain came with the most amazing pleasure.
“Griffin,” she moaned, doing her best not to lose eye contact with him.
“You okay?” He shifted one hand to the side of her face and caressed her cheek, but based on the intense look in his eyes, they were on the same page.
The way their bodies felt together like this . . .
Her eyes began to water from the intrusion, and her lids fluttered closed, but when he started to slowly move again, his cock slick with her arousal, her body began to relax.
She felt the unmistakable heat of his tongue against her cheek, licking her tears before bringing his lips to hers, the saltiness spreading throughout her mouth as he continued to move at a steady pace.
“Harder,” she begged, opening her eyes and bringing her legs around his to urge him faster.
Griffin lifted his mouth from hers. “If I go harder, it’ll turn to fucking. And then we’ll both come too soon.”
Right. She did her best to keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her freaking head as he kept up with the same pace, and she could tell by the tenseness of his jaw and the strain in his neck that he was fighting against the desire to fuck her senseless.
But she knew he was loving this, too, the slow, rhythmic dance of making love. Something maybe he’d truly never done before.
She savored every moment. Every heartbeat. Every look in his eyes.
She ran her palms along the hard ridges of his triceps, and her fingertips bit into the muscle as he began to pick up the pace some. Supporting his weight with one arm, he reached between her thighs and brushed his knuckles across her clit.
Her vision blurred, and she neared climax as he began rubbing her sex with the pad of his thumb in small, circular motions.
Caged beneath this strong man, she never felt safer.
“Come for me, Sugar. Because I’m fighting like hell to wait until you do,” he gritted out in a dark voice.
His request sent her over the edge, and she clenched around him as she came with the most intense orgasm of her life. She moaned and cried out his name, doing her best not to be too loud in case anyone was outside their room, but this was . . . incredible.
At the feel of her coming undone, he finally let go, his hips stuttering with a few more thrusts as he chased his own release.
When he stopped moving on top of her, he pushed up onto his palms and stared down into her soul. “That was . . .” He closed his eyes, and she watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed.
“That’s okay,” she returned in a soft voice and reached for his cheek, and his lids parted. “I have no words, either.”