47. Griffin #3
I run one hand down her side, slow and possessive, tracking every inch of skin from her waist to her thigh.
She shivers beneath my palm but doesn’t stop moving.
Her hands roam over Jax’s large frame, and he stares down at her with heat-filled eyes.
It’s hard to tell in the strobe lights, but I’d swear he isn’t even blinking, too afraid to miss a single moment of rapture on her face.
His hands are all over her too, up her sides, along her arms, brushing the sides of her ass.
We’re no longer dancing—we’re devouring. Lost in the music, in the heat, in her . Our bodies locked together in a rhythm that isn’t choreographed but instinctual. The beat pulses through the floor, through our veins, into the space between our lips and skin, dragging us deeper.
Dylan leans into me like I’m gravity, her lips seeking out Jax’s.
Right now, we’re one unit. Moving together.
Breathing each other in. Lips swollen and pupils dilated, her head tips back to rest on my shoulder.
Her body arches, caught in the push and pull between us.
I lock eyes with Jax over her head—heat, want, understanding.
Words aren’t necessary as he ducks, burying his face in her neck, lips skimming her sweat-slicked skin.
I feel the breath she exhales against the side of my face, feel the way her knees falter slightly.
My hand trails down her side until I find the hem of her dress again. My fingers graze soft, warm skin as I slip them between her thighs. Her breath catches, and I smile into her hair, my lips brushing the shell of her ear as I murmur, low and rough, “I believe I have a promise to uphold.”
Her body tenses, then melts, a soft sound escaping her—half gasp, half moan. Jax’s hands move in tandem with mine, one of his fingers drawing lazy circles just above her knee while mine slide higher, closer, until her hips jerk and her heat engulfs me.
And I’m lost.
To the music. To the dark. To her.
Right now, there’s no one else in this club. No prying eyes. No past. No Kyle. No games.
Just us.
The music thickens, bass low and pounding like a second heartbeat. Or maybe that’s just mine. Lights strobe red across Dylan’s skin, casting a glow that makes her look half temptress, half angel. And she’s mine. Ours. But mine first.
My fingers slide over the damp fabric of her panties, causing her to tremble between us, and the sound she lets out? Sinful. My blood roars .
I can’t hold back any longer. I’m going to burst a vein or have a heart attack or go fucking insane if I don’t get inside her right now.
What I want more than anything is to rip off the pathetic excuse of a barrier, bend her over, and fuck her right here in front of everyone so they can know exactly who she belongs to.
So the entire goddamn club knows that she’s mine .
But fucking decorum and all that, so I settle for shoving her panties aside and burying two fingers inside her wet cunt.
Her gasp is drowned out by the heavy bass.
“Such a good girl, Menace,” Jax purrs, his words only audible because of how close we all are.
His breath is hot on the other side of her throat before he lifts his head enough to meet my gaze. “Tell me, is she wet for us?”
“Fucking soaked.”
He groans, diving in to claim her lips in a hungry, frantic kiss.
I never thought I’d be into watching, but with my girl pressed up against me, and feeling how hot he gets her, how her hips buck and a gush of excitement coats my fingers, I’m fucking hypnotized.
Entranced. The only thing hotter would be if she were clenching around my dick instead of my fingers. One day. Soon. Very fucking soon.
Releasing her lips, Jax drags his mouth down her neck. Her head drops back against my shoulder, and she whimpers. Her eyes are glazed over, lids at half-mast, and cheeks rosy as she trembles against me, completely wrecked between us.
I feel Jax’s hand brush mine as he moves to circle her clit, and she practically comes apart.
“Tell Jax the rules,” I murmur in her ear. She blinks up at me, dazed. “Who owns this orgasm?”
“You do.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“And when do you get to come?”
Her lips part, but instead of words, a moan rips free, her eyes falling closed as she arches her back. “Please,” she whimpers. “I need to come.”
“Not until I tell you,” I growl, bending to nip at her earlobe. She yelps at the bite of pain, a sound that soon transforms into one of pleasure as Jax continues to rub her clit and I stroke the raw bundle of nerves inside her. “You’ll come on my fingers. With my name on your tongue.”
“Say his name, D,” Jax coaxes, finger moving faster against her clit.
Her breath catches. “Griffin…”
“Louder,” I demand, scraping my teeth along the sensitive skin of her neck and making her shiver. “You’re not ashamed to take what I give you—what we give you—are you?”
“No— Griffin .”
Her voice is loud enough to have a few heads turning our direction, but a glare from Jax and me has them quickly looking away.
“That’s right,” I purr encouragingly. “This body belongs to me. Every moan. Every fucking drop of you. Don’t forget it.”
“Fuck, Griff, she’s so close,” Jax says, his voice all dark amusement. “She’s about to come.”
“Not yet,” I snap, slowing my pace just enough to draw a strangled moan from her throat.
Jax chuckles, seeming to enjoy this form of torture as much as I am. Interesting.
“You’re starving for it. Aren’t you, sweetheart?
” My words are barely more than a possessive, wild growl, my chest vibrating as she clings to both of us.
We’re the only things holding her up. She is so close to the edge that I can feel it in the way her thighs twitch, the way she tries to grind down on us like she’s forgotten we’re in a public place.
“I need—Griff—Jax— please ?—”
I bite back a groan. My free hand grabs her jaw and turns her to face me. “You gonna come for us, right here in this fucking club? Let the music drown out the sounds you make when we ruin you?”
“She’s about to make a mess all over your hand,” Jax warns.
“Let her,” I snap, thrusting my fingers hard. Jax matches my relentless pace until she shatters between us, silent and staggering, held up only by our arms. Her body spasms, helpless and beautiful, and her nails dig into my neck as I smother her gasps with my mouth.
Jax watches her fall apart like he’s addicted to it.
We both are.
When she finally sags boneless between us, I pull my hand from between her thighs, slick with her. I raise it to my mouth, sucking one finger into my mouth as I watch her pupils expand and her cheeks blaze red. “You taste like fucking heaven,” I tell her.
Before I can lick her essence from the rest of my fingers, Jax’s hand snaps out to grab my wrist. Bringing my hand to his mouth, he doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his tongue around my middle finger and sucking the juices off it. “Divine,” he murmurs, savoring the taste of her.
Glancing around, Dylan’s eyes go wide, reality breaking through as she brings a hand up to smother her gasp. “I can’t believe we just did that in a club.”
I shrug, not giving one iota of a shit. “Considering I wanted to fuck you right here in front of everyone, I think we showed incredible restraint.”
She gapes at me. Jax just laughs, shaking his head as he pulls her close and kisses her cheek.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grunt, looking around and noticing most of the team have already left—or are hidden in a dark corner. I don’t really give a fuck. Kyle is nowhere to be found, and now that I’ve had a taste of my hurricane, I want more. Now.
With Jax and I flanking her, the three of us push through the crowd and out of the club.
It’s only a ten-minute cab ride back to the hotel, and we walk Dylan to her door.
Her cheeks are still flushed, her stance unsteady.
Jax rubs a hand down her back, his gaze lingering on hers before he murmurs, “I’m gonna check on Finn.
He was really knocking the shots back earlier, and I wanna make sure he hasn’t drowned in his own puke. ”
Dylan’s nose scrunches adorably, but concern bleeds into her expression as her gaze flicks toward the door of the room I’m sharing with Finn. She worries her bottom lip before Jax tugs it free. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” she offers.
He flashes her a grin before moving away, and I step into her field of view. “I’ll grab a few things from my room,” I tell her, brushing a knuckle under her chin. “Then I’ll be back.”
“You don’t have to?—”
I cut her off with a press of my finger over her lips. “If you think for one second I’d leave you to spend the night alone in a hotel, you clearly have no idea the lengths I’d go to keep you safe.”
She rolls her eyes but huffs out a breath. “Fine.” Waving toward the door behind her, she says, “I guess I’ll be here.”
I wait until she’s safely tucked away behind her door before striding after Jax.
Stepping into my room, I’m hit with a wall of sweat and tequila.
Delightful . Ethan is sitting at the head of my bed, legs stretched out in front of him, with Jax standing nearby, the two of them looking at a passed-out Finn.
“He’s fine,” Ethan assures. “Just dead to the world. He’ll feel it tomorrow.”
“Bus journey home will be some fun,” Jax mutters, dragging a hand through his hair .
“It’s late,” Ethan says, moving to stand. “We should all get some rest.”
They both head out the door, but just as I’m about to close it behind them, I notice Ethan isn’t moving toward his door across the hall, but to one farther down. To Dylan’s. He stops outside, and, curious, I watch as he just stands there, frowning at the door like it’s offended him.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, sighing loudly. “What is this, the waiting room for purgatory?”
Ethan doesn’t look at me. “I just… I fucked up twice already.” His face twists in a grimace, shoulders slumping. “I need to make it up to her first.”
I bark out a humorless laugh. “You planning to do that telepathically? She’s not a mind reader, Maddox.”
Still, he doesn’t move. Just continues staring at the bit of wood separating him from Dylan. The guy’s got more self-control than anyone I know, and yet it’s driving him fucking crazy.
“Well,” I drawl, “If you’re planning on sleeping outside her door, just know I’ll be sleeping inside it. And if Dylan and I are sharing that bed, you can guarantee there will be very little actual sleeping involved.”
He flinches. I smirk. “Thin walls, remember.”
With that, I turn to go. I’ve barely shut the door when I hear it—a soft knock. Then the low murmur of voices.
When I crack the door open and peek into the hallway, Ethan’s gone.