Chapter 25
GRIFFIN
Sasha cries out as my mouth hits her pussy. I don’t waste a fucking second. I draw my tongue directly over her clit.
Water sluices off her body, soaking my shirt.
I don’t notice any of it. I’m solely focused on one thing, and that’s the feel of her against my tongue. Fuck what I said I wouldn’t do. Fuck me keeping feelings out of this—this isn’t feelings. It’s just need. White-hot, blinding need.
I hook my tongue against her clit while I suck with my lips, knowing somewhere that I’m lying to myself when I deny I have any feelings.
Knowing here that I’m taking her with pure, selfish greed.
Her hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back as she rocks against me. She tastes like honey. Or flowers. Or something I can’t describe that drives me this close to letting myself go right here in my suit as I fuck her with my tongue.
“Griffin,” Sasha moans.
My name coming out of those perfect, delicate lips while I devour her is indescribable. Better than all the fantasies I tried so hard to shove aside.
All I want is to see her come. It’s all I pictured every time I stood in this shower, stroking my cock, her name on my lips. It’s the engineer in me, I think, needing to see exactly how she works; needing to know precisely what she needs to take her breath away.
But looking up at Sasha, I’m the one losing my breath.
I wasn’t lying when I said she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
But from here? Fuck me. The slick wet slope of her stomach, the two oval moons of her tits above.
Her face tipped back so all I can see is the long column of her throat and the tip of her chin.
Sasha cries out again, rocking her hips against my face. I reach up and clasp her jaw gently in my hand. It’s so small, so delicate under the brute width of my spread fingers.
She’s not there yet. I won’t let her come so easily. I pop off her clit long enough to tip her face down and say, “Look at me, Sasha.”
Her expression is a contortion of desire. My cock throbs painfully.
“You want me to make you come?” I ask as I draw my other hand up her wet thigh, slipping two fingers inside her.
“Yes,” she gasps. Her pussy squeezes hard against me, and I have to fight not to growl like an animal.
I stroke my tongue against her clit again, tugging at her G-spot at the same time.
She makes a guttural sound, her hands slapping low against the wall behind her.
I stroke again.
Then pull away. “No.”
She looks aghast. “No?”
A flare of heat runs through me—it could be the last dredges of my anger at myself for succumbing to this when I swore I wouldn’t, or it could just be how badly I need her.
But part of needing to see her come is needing to see how far I can hold her over the edge, on the brink, before the only thing she feels is the blinding need for release.
Plus, I’m feeling more than a little deliciously petty about this particular thing.
“I’m going to tease you like you teased me, Sasha. Make you feel just a taste of the torture I’ve felt.”
Her jaw hangs open, but she laughs. She knows what she did. She fucking loved it.
So did I, though I’m not about to tell her that.
I suction my mouth around her clit again, tugging with my lips and stroking with my tongue in a coordinated movement until her breathing goes ragged and choked, her fingertips scraping against my scalp. “Griffin, what is that? I didn’t know I could…feel…”
She’s losing words. Her breaths take on a tone that’s creeping higher and higher, and I know I’ve got her on the very edge of the precipice. Just as she makes the sound I know means she’s about to fall, I pull my mouth away.
Sasha cries out, gripping my head in her hands. “No! Please.”
I stand up. “Impossible, isn’t it? To get that close and not be able to do anything about it?”
“You asshole,” she says, slapping a wet hand against my shoulder.
Then her arms are hooked around my neck and she’s tugging me to her.
Our lips crash together brutally, our tongues ravenous.
If the last kiss tried to tear me apart, this one nearly destroys me.
The sensation of having her like this, her breasts slick and wet against my chest, my fingers still inside of her—I know my aching cock is dripping with its own wetness under my soaked clothes.
It doesn’t matter. All I want is to see her lose it.
I tug her toward me with my fingers inside her, firm but gentle, needing to regain some semblance of control.
She breaks the kiss, letting out that guttural sound again. On the next breath, she says, “I could come like this, you know.”
“I won’t let you.”
“So, what, you’re just going to stop touching me?”
I curve my fingers inside her, putting variable pressure on the sensitive flesh inside. Press. Release. Press. Release.
She’s breathing hard, her eyes desperate on mine.
“Remember when we were swimming, Sasha? When you took your top off and I knew these gorgeous tits were out there just out of my line of sight?”
I take one of her breasts in my hand now, clenching my jaw to hide my pleasure at the feel of its perfect weight in my hand. I lean into her, nipping at her ear. “I was jealous of the fucking trees, Sasha. Of the wind. Jealous of nature getting to see you when I couldn’t.”
I run kisses down her throat, all the way down her chest until I’m close enough to take the pink peak of her breast in my mouth.
“You could have,” she breathes as I fuck her pussy with my fingers in perfect cadence with my tongue on her nipple. She’s getting close again, I can tell, even without me touching her clit.
“You could have fucked me then, Griffin. I would have let you. God, I”—she gasps as I sink my teeth onto her nipple—“I would have begged for it if you’d told me there was a chance.”
I grit my teeth, my own need threatening to distract me. “I know what you’re doing,” I grit out.
I grip her breast with my hand, tightening a warning with my fingers.
She whimpers, but she’s smiling now. “I can get you, can’t I? With my words?” She licks her lips. “You hold yourself together so tightly, Griffin, hanging on to that control, but I can undo you just by making my mouth move.”
She licks her lips, looking pointedly down at my bulging crotch.
I bring a hand up to her jaw again, covering her lips with my finger.
“You think I want to fuck those words out of your mouth, don’t you?”
She moans as I slide my fingers out of her pussy and thrust back in, grazing my thumb against her clit.
She whimpers—she’s close to coming again. “Yes. I think you…do.”
I pull my hands away from her just before it happens once again, and she lets out a frustrated growl. “God, Griffin!”
“You’re going to come when I tell you to,” I growl.
She shudders under me. “Please. I can’t take it. Please, Griffin.”
Is this my limit? I think this is my limit. I need her as badly as she needs me now. I grip her hips, pulling her against the rough wet of my pants. “Sasha.”
She takes my face in her hands, kissing me under the splatter of water. It’s soft this time. Gentle. “Griffin,” she whispers as she pulls away.
My hands move as if on their own, working the buckle off my belt.
I can’t play anymore. I can’t pretend.
My thoughts are I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’m not supposed to feel this way. But my words betray me, coming from somewhere deep inside me.
“So fucking beautiful.” I grip her hip with one hand while I pull my cock out of my shorts with the other. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Sasha.”
I’m not even talking about how she looks, even though she’s so perfect it almost hurts to look at her.
I’m talking about everything. Every part of her, inside and out.
She’s too good for me. Too sweet, too kind, too fiery, too funny.
Too perfect for a man who sometimes doesn’t know how to be a real person.
But her leg is up on the edge of the tub now, and I’m so hard I know I’m close to exploding all over her.
I don’t bother taking anything else off, just reach behind me to pull open the drawer.
“You win, Angel,” I say through gritted teeth. As I rip a condom open with my teeth and hand, I hear her whimper, and I don’t fucking care about anything but her. Being inside her. Inhabiting her.
I release her only long enough to get the condom on. Then I notch my cock against her hot slit. “You win every time,” I breathe. I wrap my arm around her back.
As I plunge myself all the way into the most perfect woman I’ve ever known, I groan, long and low. I feel like a feral animal, a beast, claiming my woman.
She lets out a guttural sound, her eyelids fluttering as she tilts her head back. “Griffin, fuck—"
I pull out, dropping my teeth down on her shoulder as I drive into her again.
She cries out, gripping my shoulders so hard I know I’ll have marks.
I don’t care. She slides her hands up my neck, hooking them against the back of my head, her wet cheek next to mine.
I bring my hand down between us, my thumb on her clit, wishing I could be in two places at once. In all the places at once, all over her, everywhere.
She cries out at my touch.
“That’s right,” I rasp. I kiss her neck as I thrust into her over and over again, my thumb brushing featherlight against her clit.
She comes a moment later, a huge, racking climax that nearly knocks me off my feet. Sasha cries out my name, her pussy clenching so hard on my cock.
When she wraps her legs around me, I can’t hold back anymore.
I’m still standing on the floor, so I turn, pressing her wet back against the wall next to the shower.
In only a few thrusts—hard enough to shake the drywall—I let loose inside her, my balls clenching tight as I come so hard I can’t breathe.
I press myself against her while we ride it out together, the crest, the peak, the flow, the ebb.
“Sasha,” I grit out when I can suck in a breath again. I meet her eyes, brushing her wet hair from her face. “Sasha. My fucking God.”