Chapter 6 #2
He groaned.
He rolled his hips against mine.
He pulled his lips from mine to murmur,
Poor choice of words, sure, but who cared? Definitely not I as I chuckled a rolling, seductive purr. —he sucked in a breath—
At normal times, Griffin moved fast, I knew that. Dude was agile and honed like an athlete. We’d been training together and tearing across these woods for as long as we remembered. I’d seen him move lightning-fast more times than I could count.
But apparently, he’d never been more motivated.
His t-shirt was torn from his body when I was scarcely starting to register that he was yanking it off.
His belt was similarly gone in a whip of leather and clank of metal buckle landing somewhere on his carpeted floor.
His fingers had already undone the button on his jeans and were reaching for his zipper when I halted them with my own.
“Uh-uh,” I said aloud. “I get to undress you the rest of the way.”
He stared at me, his eyes molten, their colors like an entire forest ablaze with the light from the sun nearing the horizon and shining its final glow of the day in a warming blast.
His entire body went completely still as he watched, barely seeming to breathe as I dragged down his zipper, spread it wide, and dipped my hand inside the fly of his boxers.
With him as hard as he was, I’d have to tug his dick down to finesse him through the front, so I tugged on his jeans and boxers. They slid down his hips.
Griffin’s breath left him in a hiss, as I sucked in through my teeth in a sibilant gasp.
Griffin knelt between my legs. His strong thighs were like twin pillars holding up my prize.
His dick … by God, it was the most beautiful dick I’d ever seen.
Granted, I’d only seen a few, but those other ones were veiny, crooked, ugly things surging from even uglier, saggy, hairy balls when compared to this one.
Griff’s dick was a splendid, sculpted piece of art, smooth, thick, and standing proud. I found myself literally salivating.
Whereas I’d blushed when Layla teased about all the naked playtime Griffin and I would indulge in, now there was no hint of my former out-of-character timidity. With his dick inches from my face, I openly admired him … and admired him … and then just kept on looking.
He rasped out, “Now it’s my turn,” and reached for me.
I was faster. I lunged for him and wrapped my fingers around his cock.
He froze.
When I stroked the length of him, a shudder traveled up and down his spine before he pierced me with a stare so hot I felt ready to combust under its regard.
Incensed, I stroked him again. He wobbled atop the bed, then threw his head back.
I ran my hand up the hard length of him again, and again, and again, all the while greedily eating up the sight of all his tight muscles, smooth tanned skin, and the fierce ink accentuating the sexiest body ever created.
He snapped his head forward, his mouth a fierce scowl. He flung himself off the bed, was out of his jeans, boxers, and socks in an instant, and then crawling back over the bed like a predator—with me in his sights.
I dragged my teeth along my lower lip without noticing I was doing it until his eyes followed their trail.
“I’m gonna getcha,” he growled, and fuck me, never had I wanted to be gotten more. “Now it’s my turn.”
I licked my lips, imagined them and my tongue on his cock. “But I’m not finished with you yet.”
He grinned wickedly but only repeated, “It’s my turn now, baby.”
“Griff, you home?” traveled up the stairwell, through the door, and into the bedroom.
I jerked back along the bed, eyes darting to the door. Griff kept his predatory eyes fixed on me and shouted, “Yep, I’m home. But I’m really busy right now. Catch ya later.”
On all fours, he prowled toward me even as Orson mumbled some Yeah, sures, and other platitudes I couldn’t have cared less about.
Griffin was fierce and sexy and strong and gorgeous … and he was coming for me. After all these years of fantasizing about him, I’d finally get to feel him inside me. Where my own hands had been the only ones to warm my skin before, now they’d be his.
He pounced, catching my legs and tugging me down the bed until I was almost under him again. A giggle that sounded entirely unlike me escaped, and once it was out, I didn’t want to stuff it back wherever it came. Griffin was the one lover I could be my authentic self with. We were besties.
Besties who’d get to fuck. What could be better than that?
With extreme efficiency, he removed my jeans and socks but left me in my panties. “This little scrap of lace … this I’m gonna take my time with.” He circled a finger on either side beneath the waistband of my thong, pulling it out a couple of inches before letting it snap back against my skin.
A gush of warmth surged between my thighs and I bit my lip, leaning back onto my elbows.
On his knees between my thighs, and with his proud, beautiful dick at eye level, he reached for my shirt. I helped him slide it off, but when I was left in a camisole, and his fingers were reaching for the straps, I asked, “What about condoms? You have some? I don’t carry any in my bag.”
He blinked at me as if coming out of a trance before answering. “Uh, yeah … I should have some somewhere.”
He bounded off the bed with a bounce of his erection, dashed into his walk-in closet while I openly admired every inch of him on display, then came out with a small box of them, examining its contents with a frown.
“Expired.” He tossed them back into the closet without care to where they landed.
“Expired?” I asked aloud, before switching to telepathy. I wasn’t risking our stories being out of sync with the latest brainwashing.
He arched a brow at me as he sat on the bed.
I sat up.
He caught me. I sure did.
he offered anyway,
I admitted, then flicked my gaze downward to pick at a seam on his comforter.
I glanced up, allowed my hand to roam his bare knee, then to travel along his thigh as I slid closer.
I said with a scowl.
I licked my lips, allowed my attention to travel from his face to his hard-on, twirled one of my minibraids.
He barked out a laugh.
I laughed, too, before turning serious eyes on him and scooting closer so that our bare thighs touched. I cupped his balls, tugging them upward, then ran my fingers along the underside of his dick until the breath hissed from between those pillowy lips of his.
I told him boldly.
He hissed another inhale through clenched teeth.
His hot stare trailed from my face, down my body, pausing on my tits and then the lacy bit of thong between my legs, before landing on the way I teased his dick.
Admiring how I stroked him, he asked,
His stare was still on my hands, on his dick.
He breathed in, then out. A shudder raced along his body before he jumped into motion so swiftly it startled me.
Suddenly, I was flat on my back, my legs opening automatically for him as if they’d been doing it for eons. My camisole was hiked above my tits so that they were right in his face, and his fingers were sinking under the band of my thong.
he grumbled, though his actions suggested the exact opposite.
I tugged his hips against mine and ground against him, a scrap of insignificant lace against smooth shaft.
The veins in his neck bulged. His shoulder muscles strained as he seemed to use all his self-restraint to hold back.
I finished.
We probably should have waited. I maybe should have agreed and let us take it slow. There was no repeating our first time—unless we were rebooted by lying assholes, of fucking course.
But my body was shouting at me to get what I wanted, and so much had been out of my control lately that waiting felt somehow like a loss. Living wild and free felt like the only kind of win I could get.
This was us. What we wanted. Nothing to do with anyone else.
His hips were already lined up with mine. I guided his dick between my thighs, slid the scrap of red lace to one side, and notched his tip at my throbbing, hot entrance.
His eyes leapt to mine, a question obviously forming on his lips.
I didn’t give him the chance to voice it.
I brought a hand to either of his hips … and pushed him inside me.
Together, we groaned at the sensation.
Finally, the man I loved, my best friend, was filling me the way I was always meant to be filled.
His mouth opened and closed, but he said nothing, not even in our mindspace. His eyes mirrored everything I was feeling.
We felt so … so … so very right.
Eventually, his lips lowered to mine, pressing the tenderest of kisses upon them. His forehead touched my own for a heartbeat before the hot skin of his chest flattened against my breasts.
With our faces mere inches apart, he breathed, “I love you. Man, do I fucking love you.”
“I love you too.”
Then he began to roll his hips, pushing farther inside me, filling me to completion, and I understood right then I’d never experience anything better.
This, this right here, this alone was worth fighting for. This was worth clawing our way back from death for, and murdering anyone who tried to come at us.
He angled his next thrust upward, somehow hitting my fucking G-spot, and my eyes rolled upward as I moaned.
“I’m never leaving your bed,” I grunted.
“Promise?” he whispered over my lips, then kissed me again, rolling in and out of me.
And then, of course fucking then, our phones buzzed from our pant pockets, wherever our jeans had landed.
Griffin stilled for a second, then thrust up into me again. I grew impossibly wetter.
Our phones buzzed again, at the same time, which meant it was our group text message.
He hesitated again.
“Don’t stop,” I said, but a third buzz caused the two of us to groan, and not in the good way.
“Dammit,” I exclaimed. “It could be Hunt.”
“Prob’ly is,” Griffin said while balls deep inside me and appearing unwilling to go anywhere else.
He sighed heavily, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment of evident regret, then pulled out of me.
Immediately I missed his warmth like I didn’t know how to live without it. I stared at his erection with feral possessiveness while he fished his phone from his pants. The screen lit up his face, highlighting how his eyes widened and his mouth tightened.
“Fuck,” he snarled.
I leapt from the bed and sidled up next to him.
Hunt: SOS
Hunt: Treehouse, now
Hunt: Already on my way
A minute ago, I would have thought there was nothing that would have gotten me to walk away from naked playtime with Griffin. But when our crew needed us, we dropped everything—even beautiful, glistening erections—and were there for one another.
That’s what family fucking did.
We barely spared each other a single look of regret before hurriedly tossing each other our clothes.
Griffin’s thumbs skimmed his screen, and my phone lit up seconds later.
Griff: Joss n I’ll be there in 5
With his dick still hard and shoved into his jeans, Griffin and I raced out the door.