Chapter 18 Andrei #2
I twisted his nipple as my fingers came to it. “While you were happily married?”
“I’d never have been happily married,” he said.
“It would be a marriage of convenience. I’d fuel my hockey stardom with my unexplored frustrations, while my wife explored her range of sexuality with the maid.
But you,” he said, mock outraged. “You’d know what you want.
You’d be committed to me, and you’d still go off and do it with a stranger. ”
I couldn’t stop the bubbling laughter that swelled to the surface. “Let’s fight about it.”
“I’ll wrestle you,” he said, then tossed the chocolate over to the other bed and climbed on top of me, grabbing my wrists and pinning them to my sides. “You lose.”
But I didn’t lose. Not the way I saw it.
He leaned down and pressed his chocolaty lips against mine, kissing me deeply and sensually until I moaned right into his mouth.
It wasn’t fair that I was in my boxer briefs and he still wore those annoying sweatpants.
“Take them off,” I said against his lips. “I want to feel you.”
His smile spread against my lips, and he hesitated, then let me go and got up to take his sweatpants off.
Watching the waistband slide slowly down his legs made my heart beat a little faster. It always did. The light of the lamp bathed him in amber and aged gold while he slid his sweatpants down his muscular legs.
He pulled each foot out and knelt on the side of the bed with one knee.
My hand rested on my stomach as I lost myself in the moment. He picked up my hand, lifted it to his lips, and pressed a warm kiss against the back of it, then turned it and kissed my palm.
It was all out. Most of it, at least. Most of the things that had lived in the space between us, unspoken of and unacknowledged.
Griffin’s curly locks fell over his brow as he leaned down to kiss me, his lips heating up mine.
It was like a kiss of life the prince bestowed upon Snow White’s lips.
It was the breath I had lost, the heartbeat that had stopped, the chance where there had been only ashes of unfulfilled hopes and dreams.
Every time he kissed me felt this way. Every time was a new ripple of impossible things taking place across the galaxies.
Griffin’s tongue ventured into my mouth, meeting the tip of mine as I parted my lips for him.
He tasted like chocolate and pure lust. There was something so daring about Griffin, especially when he kissed me, and it filled me with wild desire for more.
I threw my arms around him and pulled him in, losing my breath as he crashed on top of me, both of us sinking into the mattress. He rubbed himself against me, hard dick thrusting against my thigh, and I held on to him, not letting any space invade the perfect unity between us.
“How are you this sexy?” he asked.
I didn’t know what to reply. There was no secret to it.
I was myself at long last, and the real me was someone who belonged to Griffin.
Perhaps that was what made me sexy in his eyes.
Perhaps this willingness to be his everything, to split myself into shards and fly where the winds and currents of Griffin’s immense personality took me.
I pulled him closer instead of searching for the right words. I was beyond words. I lived for sensations in this moment, for the mix of scents, the symphony of touches, the naughty sounds, and the images playing out before my eyes that begged to be captured yet never truly could be.
I moaned as his weight descended on me again, his dick pressing against mine, and my hands slipped down to his ass, sliding under his underwear to feel the tender skin and the narrow space between his cheeks.
He welcomed it, though the first time had made him tense up in anticipation.
I had expected that it might, so I’d given him a moment to process it.
To process the pleasure that came from the surprising sensation of my finger moving over his hole or reaching down to his taint from behind.
Griffin kissed the length of my neck, and I craned my head away, holding my breath and trying not to rupture.
When his hand reached down to my waist, holding me like I was his little toy, it made me shiver all over. I was whatever he wanted me to be.
My legs parted around his, and I yanked him harder into me, holding his ass in my hands and squeezing his cheeks in reply to the kisses on my neck that grew more heated with each passing moment. He kissed the tender space under my ear, sending ripples of short breaths and moans out of me.
Griffin pulled himself lower down the length of my body, his lips tracing my collarbone, slipping to my solar plexus, and kissing the middle of my abs. He moved lower still, until he had to kneel and drag his lips over the mound in my underwear.
It felt like the sweetest sin, the first sin, to have his lips explore me there. When he lifted the waistband of my underwear over my cock, his pupils grew bigger, consuming the hazel irises, replacing them with blackness.
He took my underwear off and whispered to turn around. “I want that ass, Andrei,” he said. “I’ll die without it.”
“So dramatic,” I said, playing with his curls between my fingers. But I turned around anyway, hugging the pillow as Griffin lowered his head to my butt, sliding his hot, wet tongue hard against my hole.
We indulged in each other’s bodies nearly every night. And on the nights when we didn’t, we lay together in each other’s arms as soon as we were alone, watching trash TV or just talking like we used to.
Some nights, we pleasured each other with our hands and mouths; some nights, he would hug me from behind and thrust his dick between my cheeks until I felt the heat of his cum spilling over me—it would inevitably tip me over and make my orgasm a thunderstorm in my chest—yet other nights, when we had hours to ourselves, we did this.
This incredible, wonderful thing that had always felt a little underwhelming, a little like a chore that might be more easily done on one’s own. Until now.
Now, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
And I finally knew what they meant when they said all the other men were ruined for me.
Griffin kissed me tenderly, then licked me until I was slick and hot with saliva, but he never hurried. He did this like it gave him immense pleasure, and when I’d asked him, he said it did.
He thrust his tongue hard against my hole three times in quick succession, then whispered, “I fucking love the taste of you.” He licked and bit and kissed, he sucked and spat, and he finally rubbed his finger against my needy hole, making me wild with a new wave of lust.
When he pushed his middle finger inside of me and turned his wrist one way and the other, I bit down on the pillow. How I wanted us to disappear for a long, lazy weekend to some forest cabin and let ourselves cry each other’s names all night long.
I muffled the sounds of overwhelming pleasure and thrust my ass harder against him, pushing myself on his finger and feeling him find that special place that sent tears into my eyes.
Griffin pressed my hole with a second finger after a few minutes of getting me comfortable, then slid it inside, making me groan into the pillow and filling me with tingles.
Together, his fingers stretched me wider, sliding in and out with careful, deliberate movements, until it was so easy that he could speed up and not even make me wince.
I loved how he paid attention to me. I had no idea what cues he was reading and whether he understood the tension in the muscles along my back, but he never went a step further. He never crossed that sweet, invisible line between discomfort and infinite pleasure.
When he added the third finger, my eyes rolled back, and my mouth opened wider, though all the sounds were tied into a knot in my throat, not letting me moan or breathe. Little bursts of oxygen came into my lungs as my chest shuddered, but breathing freely was a distant memory.
“Fuck me, Griff,” I begged, voice wrecked. “Fuck me hard. Please. Need you.”
His fingers pushed deeper into me, making me open my eyes and lift my head, neck strained, muscles tense, veins rising along my skin under my fingers where my hands had slipped from my mouth to my throat.
His hand moved back, fingers sliding out of me, and he rubbed circles around my hole as it clenched, pulsing with anticipation.
Griffin reached over to the backpack on the floor and found the condoms and lube. He slipped the protection on, then poured the lube generously over his fingers, rubbing himself with wet sounds that filled my heart with hotter blood.
When he returned to the bed and placed himself above me, I sighed with relief.
I was only ever fully comfortable when I felt all of him near me, on top of me, inside me.
His cock pressed gently against my hole, Griffin waiting for me to lift my hips a little higher and make it easier.
The first push, slow and restrained, made me bite my lip and whimper.
He pulled back, massaging me with the slick tip of his cock, until I nodded for him to try again.
I relaxed, letting it wash over me as he adjusted the angle and pushed into me, breaking through the invisible mental barrier and entering me three or so inches deep.
The gentle sway of his hips unlocked something in me and made me breathe again, made me inhale the sweet, fresh air into my burning lungs, and I felt him impale me deeper with that incredible cock, filling me like I had never been filled before.
I reached back with my right hand as Griffin lowered himself and began to kiss the back of my neck. My fingers ran through the silky curls of his hair, and I closed my fist hard as he thrust his hips down and pushed deeper into me.
He fucked me tenderly, his movements measured to make it last, to torment me with enough to fuel my flaming desire but never give me so much to make me come. He was a devil of the best sort.