Chapter 32 #2
We’ve fooled around more times than I can count since that first night together, but we still haven’t taken that final step yet. He’s been so unbelievably patient with me–I can’t explain why, but every time we get close, my whole body tenses up and my heart starts racing, and not in a good way.
I think it’s lingering anxiety from the way Bennett weaponized physical intimacy–saying things like “Getting off is the only thing that helps me unwind after a long day,” and “I’m obviously going to be short with you if I’m stressed out and you won’t do anything to help me.
” When I told Griffin about the way he would manipulate me, I had to hold him tight and reassure him that I’m okay now, that I feel safe with him, until finally he stopped shaking with rage.
I still get choked up when I think about how upset he was on my behalf.
He was more than that–he seemed truly distraught that anyone would treat me that way.
Every time I’ve pumped the brakes or asked to slow down, he’s stopped without hesitation, gently wrapping me in his arms and repeatedly telling me that he’d wait for me forever, that he’s not going anywhere.
He moves his hand between my legs, slowly circling my clit before slipping two fingers inside of me.
I don’t know how he manages to make it feel so good, but everytime he hooks his fingers to hit my most sensitive spot, I shudder and moan his name over and over, a reverent prayer that won’t ever leave my lips.
It feels otherworldly every single time, I wonder if it’ll ever stop feeling like magic.
I writhe against his hand, pressure building in my core as he works in and out of me, still grinding against me with his hard length.
“That’s it darlin’, ride my fingers, make yourself feel good.”
His words do just as much for me as his fingers, and before long I’m seeing stars, back arching off the bed as he works me through my orgasm.
When I come down, I lift up to meet him, stroking my tongue against his as he runs his hands up and down my body. He grabs my waist then cups my breasts, still rocking against me, his breaths harsh and shallow.
“I still don’t think I’m ready,” I whisper, guilt constricting my throat. “I’m sorry I keep doing this.”
With a kiss on my forehead, he lays down next to me, pulling me into his chest.
“You have nothing to apologize for, darlin’,” he says, nuzzling into my hair. “No need to rush when we have the rest of our lives ahead of us.”
There’s that pain in my chest again.
“But there is something else I wanted to try,” I say slowly. We also haven’t ventured into the world of oral yet, but every time I think about having his dick in my mouth I’m instantly wet. I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to bring it up, and this feels like it.
“What’s that?” he says, one eyebrow cocked as he waits for me to explain.
But I don’t explain myself, I just kiss his face, down his neck, his chest, his abs–those fucking abs, I’ve been dying to lick every ridge since the first time I saw him shirtless.
He props up on his elbows, both eyebrows raised now.
When I reach the waistband of his boxers, I hook my fingers and begin to pull them down. Before I can, his hands stop mine.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want,” he says earnestly. “Don’t feel like you owe me anything.”
“Griffin,” I say firmly. “You have no idea how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of taking you in my mouth. Believe me when I say I want this.”
He audibly swallows as I remove the last barrier between us, freeing his cock. It’s my turn to swallow–I have no idea how I’m supposed to fit that entire thing in my mouth.
Use your hands and your mouth at the same, Abby told me. We’ve never explicitly talked about it, but I know her and Aaron go at it like rabbits when they’re alone. Once the initial shock of me asking for sex advice wore off, she gave me very, very detailed instructions on how to give an A+ blowjob.
I grip the base of his cock, pumping slowly a few times, using my thumb to swipe the bead of precum off the head and work the wetness down his shaft.
He shudders, hips bucking into my hand as he mutters a string of curses under his breath.
Emboldened by his reaction, I slowly lower my mouth to him, taking the tip in my mouth and swirling my tongue around it, still working the rest of him with my hand.
“Fuck me Eleanor, that already feels so fucking good,” he moans.
Looking up at him with a wicked grin, I flatten my tongue against the bottom of his shaft, licking slowly from base to tip before taking him deeper into my mouth.
I settle into a steady rhythm, bobbing my head at a quicker pace when his moans grow louder.
His fingers weave through my hair, gripping it at the back of my head. “I’ve gotta move, darlin’ girl. Is that okay?”
Nodding eagerly, I hollow my cheeks out as I slowly lift up, his cock escaping my mouth with a soft pop. “Whatever you want, babe,” I say breathlessly. “I want to make you feel good.”
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says hoarsely. “Tap my thigh if you need me to stop.”
I nod my head, lowering my mouth onto him again. Holding my head in place, he begins to pump up into my mouth, making me gag when he hits the back of my throat.
“Shit, are you okay?”
“Shut up and fuck my mouth, Griffin.”
With a moan, he begins working himself in and out of my mouth, his movements growing jerky and less controlled.
“Keep it up and I’m gonna come, darlin’,” he says, moans growing louder with every thrust. His words have me moaning, the vibration from my low hums causing him to move faster.
“If you don’t want me to come in that pretty mouth, you better tell me now,” he says through ragged breaths.
In response, I open my throat as wide as I can get it, tears streaming down my face as I gag around his length again.
“Look at me,” he says harshly. I do what he says, nearly coming from just the sight of the wild desire in his eyes. “I’ll never get enough of those eyes, pretty girl.”
I bob my head faster, desperate to get him off, turned on beyond belief knowing it was me that made him lose control.
I might come again just listening to him.
“Fuck, darlin’, don’t stop. I’m coming.”
He yells a loud, guttural moan, and I feel the hot ropes of his orgasm hit the back of my throat. I fight to swallow every last drop even with him still in my mouth, working his cock fiercely until he stops shuddering and releases his grip on my hair.
“You are the sexiest Goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”
I beam up at him, unable to keep the look of satisfied pride off my face. After licking the last bit of him clean, I press a soft kiss to his lower stomach, then allow him to drag me back up the bed, intertwining our naked limbs until I’m not sure where I end and he begins.
We lay in silence, our heartbeats returning to normal as we bask in that post-orgasm haze. Looking up at him, I see his eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Shh,” he whispers. “I’m trying to memorize every detail so I can relive that for the rest of my life.”
Giggling, I lay my cheek against his bare chest, breathing in his scent–some woodsy body wash coupled with Old Spice, a slight hint of sweat and musk present as a result of our…exertions.
“So I did okay then?” I ask, still feeling a little self-conscious about the whole thing.
“Are you kidding me?” he says hoarsely. “That was fucking perfection, Eleanor. Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?”
“You don’t want to know,” I say, letting out a deep sigh.
“It wasn’t because that piece of shit made you, was it?” he said, anger immediately flaring.
“Worse,” I say, my lips meeting his in a comforting kiss. “I asked Abby.”
“You’re right, that is worse,” he groans, dragging his hand down his face. “I don’t want to think about her doing any of those things. Next time just tell me you watched porn or something.”
Giggling again, I snuggle in even tighter next to him, trying to remove any space between us. I could stay right here in his bed, in his arms, forever and be happy.
No, you couldn’t. Not really.
That anxious voice in the back of my head has been getting louder with every mention of a forever with Griffin. I’ve been diligently shoving it down where I can ignore it for weeks, but the closer we get to the end of summer, the harder it’s been to keep it at bay.
You have so much you want to do. Griffin’s words weren’t meant to cause turmoil. But where his breathing slows as he drifts into sleep, my thoughts begin to race, and I can’t seem to draw in a full breath under the weight building in my chest.