Chapter 31 #2
He glances down, then wraps his hand around my wrist, guiding my finger to his mouth. When his lips part and his tongue swirls around it, a sound escapes me—a helpless whimper I can’t swallow back. The sensation shoots straight through me, lightning-fast, pooling low and hot in my core.
“Griffin,” I breathe, my voice coming out far needier than I intended.
His eyes lock onto mine and he releases my finger.
One hand tangles into my wet hair while the other grips my waist, and he pulls me flush against him as his mouth takes mine with hunger.
I kiss him back, desperately. And it turns messy fast.
I hook my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his tongue slides against mine.
A low groan rumbles from his chest.
Minutes pass in a blur of heated kisses and wandering hands before Griffin suddenly breaks away with a rough curse under his breath.
His forehead presses briefly against mine, both of us breathing hard.
Then his hands slide down my thighs.
“Up,” he mutters, hauling me up onto the edge of the pool in one smooth movement.
Water streams down his chest as he steps between my legs, broad shoulders blocking out the sun. My thighs tighten on instinct around his hips, his hands braced beside me now.
I don’t understand what just changed.
Apart from the brief glimpse from him of something feral last night, Griffin has been nothing but guarded for weeks, with his sharp words, clipped looks, and that impossible wall he hides behind. And now he looks ready to burn it all down.
“Take off that top.”
“It’s broad daylight,” I whisper, my words tumbling out between shaky breaths. “Anyone could see us. Sy could come back any moment…”
I know I should tell him to stop, to demand he explain himself and give me a reason why the same man who’s been pushing me away suddenly can’t seem to keep his hands off me.
But the way he’s looking at me right now—as if he’s fighting something he’s already lost—the words die in my throat.
Griffin’s eyes flick down to my mouth again, then back up with that dark, unreadable calm.
“Then you’d better hurry up, Tiana.”
My breath catches as I rush to peel off my soaked shirt, the wet fabric clinging stubbornly to my skin before sliding over my head.
The second it’s gone, cool air brushes against my bare chest.
Griffin’s eyes darken as his gaze drops to my breasts.
“Fuck. You have perfect tits.”
He clamps one of my nipples between his fingers, pulling until I let out a loud moan.
Whatever has changed for him, whatever line he’s about to cross… I’m already there, waiting. My body doesn’t care about logic or timing or the long list of reasons why this is a bad idea. It only reacts to him and the way my pulse spikes every time he touches me.
Griffin’s hands settle at the waistband of my shorts, his fingers hooking beneath the fabric and slowly pulling them down my legs, dragging my thong along with them.
The way he stares at my exposed center makes my entire body ache.
“Are you going to let me eat that pretty little pussy of yours, sugar?”
The words get stuck in my throat, so I nod.
“Tell me, baby. How bad do you want my mouth on your soaking cunt?”
“So fucking bad. Please, Griffin.”
He lets out a growl and pulls my ass closer to the edge. I gasp as my back hits the warm concrete.
The next second, his mouth closes around my clit.
My thighs tremble against Griffin’s grip, every muscle lit up.
He eats me like he’s starving, slow at first, tongue gliding over sensitive nerves, then faster—pulling hard at my clit with his lips until I’m moaning, my fingers slipping in his wet hair to anchor myself.
All the fights, all the friction, all the impossible chemistry that’s been winding between us for weeks is burning out at once and I. Can’t. Breathe.
Griffin groans against me, as if the taste of me is the only thing he’s ever wanted. I rock my hips up, desperate for more, and he responds by sliding two thick fingers inside me, curling them up just right so pressure and pleasure overlap into something almost unbearable.
All the air is out of my lungs. My vision whites out on every pulse point. My head tips back and I try to stifle the sounds building up in my throat. “Fuck, Griffin. Don’t stop. Please don’t—”
He pulls away just long enough to look up at me, lips glistening, and says, “I’m not going anywhere, sugar,” before diving back in.
With every flick of his tongue, every purposeful drag, I feel like I’m being dismantled and rebuilt all at once.
“Fuck, Griffin—”
I dig my nails into his shoulder, thighs shaking against his face. My whole body is rigid, straining, teetering on the edge of something I’ve been tiptoeing around for too fucking long.
His fingers piston in and out until my climax slams into me so hard I almost scream.
I see stars. Galaxies.
My chest arches off the pool ledge as pleasure ricochets through every last nerve. I’m not sure whether I’m laughing or crying when I come down, twitchy and oversensitive. Griffin kisses my inner thigh and rests his forehead against my knee, breathing as hard as I am.
“Well,” I gasp after a second, “that was… a solid argument in your favor. ”
Griffin lifts his head, one eyebrow going up. “Told you I’d win the dare.”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins at me as if he owns every inch of my utterly ruined body. As if he’s just getting started.
A beat passes between us, then Griffin pulls himself the rest of the way out of the pool, water sluicing off his skin in sheets. He’s fully hard, the outline of his cock making his damp shorts look like a safety hazard.
I want him inside me so badly.
He notices my stare and stands up, looming over me in the most delicious way. Taking his time, he strips his soaked shorts off, not breaking eye contact. I bite my lip.
His cock is just as gorgeous and terrifying as the rest of him—thick, flushed, curved toward his stomach with a bead of precum at the tip.
The sight makes my mouth go dry.
Griffin glances down, then up at me.
There’s a flash of vulnerability in his eyes—blink and it’s gone—but I see the way he hesitates for just a half-second, like he’s afraid of what this means, of what’s happening between us. Like he’s not sure what to do.
Then I watch that hesitation burn away, replaced by hunger.
Griffin steps between my open legs and leans down, bracing his arms on either side of me, his face hovering inches from mine. The heat of his bare body is dizzying. His cock drags along my thigh, making me clench around nothing.
I can’t help it—I reach down and wrap my hand around it. Griffin’s whole body shudders.
His cock jerks in my grip, and he lets out a breathless, choked laugh. “God, you’re—”
But he cuts off, eyes rolling back as I slide my thumb across the head, collecting the bead of slickness before tracing it back down the vein along the underside. Griffin’s hands are fists on the concrete, arms caging me in.
He watches my face, searching for something. For once, there’s no mask—just raw, unguarded desire.
“Tell me what you want,” he says, voice ragged.
I feel wild, reckless. I spread my legs even wider, baring myself shamelessly. “I want you to fuck me, daddy,” I whisper. “Right here.”
The sound he makes is low and guttural; it lights up some feral part of me that I didn’t know existed. He grabs my wrist and stills my hand with gentle but unyielding strength.
His fingers tighten around my wrist, then move up to gently tuck my hair behind my ear. His other hand cups my chin, tilting my face until I can’t dodge his gaze.
I can see the calculation behind his eyes, the split second where Griffin is about to say something then stops, struggling with the words. I don’t want there to be any room for doubt, not when I feel like I’m about to fall off the edge of the world.
Cupping his cheeks with both palms, I say, “Hey, it’s okay.”
“I don’t have a condom,” he admits, his voice so low it’s almost a rumble.
“I get tested every six months,” I say, keeping my tone soft but certain. “I’m clean, and I have an IUD.”
Griffin’s jaw flexes beneath my hands. “I haven’t…” He stops, his gaze dropping for a second before forcing itself back to mine. “I haven’t been with anyone since her.”
Something about the admission twists deep inside my chest.
“Griffin.” I slide one hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, my fingers brushing the long hair there as I give him a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to explain.”
“It’s been five years,” he continues anyway. Then his mouth pulls into an almost smile, but there’s so much vulnerability in it. “There’s a chance I forgot how to do this.”
My heart squeezes.
The fact that Griffin Hayes, billionaire lumberjack daddy, who looks like he was built specifically to ruin women’s lives, is standing here worried he won’t know how to touch me almost breaks me in half.
“Somehow, I doubt that,” I whisper.
Griffin’s eyes darken, but the uncertainty doesn’t leave them completely. “I want you, Tiana. Badly enough that it’s making me feel insane. But I don’t want to get lost in my own head and mess this up.” He lowers his forehead to mine. “So show me.”
My pulse stumbles. “Show you?”
“What you like.” His voice drops. “How you want me. Where to put my hands. When to slow down. When not to.”
Heat blooms low in my stomach.
I drag my thumb along the edge of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the restraint. “For someone who claims he forgot how to do this, you’re doing a very unfair job of making me melt already.”
He gives a short, rough laugh.
I tilt my face up, my lips brushing his as I whisper, “I want to feel all of you.”
Griffin’s breath leaves him in a hard, uneven exhale. “Jesus, Tiana. Same.”
I squeeze his cock, grinning, and let the tension melt away. “Good. Then fuck me, Grumps. I’m tired of waiting.”
He laughs again, breathless, shaky, then catches my face in his hands. The kiss he gives me is blistering, deep—like he’s thanking me for tearing up the last of whatever was holding him back.