Seriphina Joseph
I WAKE UP, FLAT ON my stomach with a toned arm thrown over my back.
I roll over, stretching. For the first time since the alley, I didn’t wake up with nightmares.
It takes me a minute to remember what happened.
I thought it would freak me out. But I’m oddly content.
I didn’t expect the idea of a relationship to make me feel that way.
Before I can think about it too much, Griffin’s eyes flutter open.
“Mornin’,” he grumbles with a deep sexy hum. His arm tightens around me, peeking at me through long lashes. The faintest trace of a smirk curls the corner of his mouth. He definitely remembers last night.
“Morning,” I reply. I deepen my stretch and groan. Throwing his arm off of me, I roll out of bed.
Griffin sits up, propping himself on his elbows as I traipse naked to the bathroom. “You okay?”
“Need to pee,” I call over my shoulder.
I shut the door to the bathroom. I do my business, wash my hands, my face, brush my teeth, and stare into the mirror fighting an existential crisis.
My brain does awful things to me in the short time between opening my eyes and seeing my reflection.
Is he going to regret it? Did we make a mistake?
Do I really want to give feelings a chance?
Will he still be attracted to my naked body in the daylight?
Did he enjoy it as much as I did? The thoughts swirl viciously through my head as I grab my silk robe and pull it on.
I tie the belt and re-enter the bedroom only to find him gone.
My heart slams in my chest and I look around the room. He walks in wearing those damnable gray sweatpants. My throat goes dry and my eyes drift down to his v-line.
He braces a shoulder on the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest. His jaw is tight and he frowns at me.
He shifts, seemingly as unsure of our situation as I am.
But that makes no sense to me, because what does he have to feel self-conscious about?
He was blessed by the gods with a body like that.
He pushes off the door, taking a step toward me and asks gruffly, “You good?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I lie, shrugging.
I sit on the edge of the bed. He sighs, sitting down next to me. He’s close but not touching. I lean back, my arms behind me. He leans forward and sets his forearms on his knees and stares at the floor.
“Dunno,” he admits, “just got in my head for a second.” He rubs the scar on his knuckle. There’s another beat of silence between us, before he turns to me. “Was last night okay?”
Is that what he’s worried about? That I didn’t want it? That I couldn’t handle it? It’s extremely sweet and my chest warms at the thought. I pull the robe down between my legs, scooting back to sit cross-legged. “What do you mean?”
“I felt you tense up,” he shares bluntly, though there’s no accusation in it. “Like somethin’ shifted between last night and now. And yeah, I got stuck wonderin’ if I fucked up somewhere.” He hesitates. “So tell me straight. We good?”
“I was worried you’d change your mind in the daylight. That you’d wake up and regret last night like how you regretted kissing me,” I explain honestly, twisting my lip ring.
“Not a chance.” He reaches out, catching my chin.
His thumb gently stops the nervous habit.
“Only regret I got is not puttin’ those pricks in the ground before they laid hands on you.
Not this.” He lets his hand drop. “You wanna know what I thought when I woke up? That finally, after years of sleepin’ like shit, I didn’t have a single nightmare. Because you were right there.”
“Me either.” My response is quiet.
His expression softens, he lightly pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Should’ve known.” His fingers linger against my skin.
“What about you?” He trails the edge of my robe, smoothing it. “Any regrets about last night?”
“Not a one,” I reply with a smile. I stand up and walk in front of him. Knowing he doesn’t regret what happened makes me feel emboldened. I step between his legs, placing my palms on his knees.
“Good,” he mutters. His hands settle on my hips. A smirk tugs at his lips. “Because I was plannin’ on doin’ it again.” His grip tightens and he pulls me closer, until my thighs brush the edge of the mattress.
“Can I try something?” I grab the elastic on my wrist and pull my hair up on top of my head, sinking down to my knees.
He sucks in air through his teeth. “Wildflower,” he whispers, voice wrecked at the implication. “You don’t have to ask permission for that.”
His hands slide up to cradle my cheeks. His thumbs brush my cheekbones as he searches my face. It reminds me of the way he checked in with me last night.
That one act from him makes me even more sure.
I drop my robe, letting the fabric pool on the floor.
My hand dips into his waistband. His hand fists into the sheets by his hip.
The other threads through the hair at the nape of my neck as he fights the urge to take the lead.
His thumb brushes lightly along my jaw, coaxing.
I take that as my cue to push his pants down.
He angles his hips to make it easier. His cock springs free already hard enough to press against his stomach.
He’s longer and thicker than anyone else I’ve been with. I wrap my hand around the base.
“Fuck,” he grits out.
His eyes flutter shut for a split second before refocusing on me. He looks undone already, raw and burning for me in a way I’ve never seen from him. It makes my chest ache and my pulse quicken.
“Seriph.” His voice is tight and strangled. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, I’m not gonna last.”
I dip my head forward, my tongue darting out over the tip, lapping the pearl of precum glistening on the small slit.
I glide my hand softly down and up his hard, velvet length.
He curses softly and I feel him twitch, hips bucking at the touch.
He bites into his bottom lip, watching me tease him.
I lick him from base to tip before swirling my tongue around the top.
Sucking him into my mouth, I allow my tongue to caress him before starting a slow rhythm in tandem with my hand.
“Just like that,” he breathes out as his head falls back.
His abs flex as he strains to keep his hips from moving. His thighs taut, fighting the desire to buck into my mouth. He lets out a guttural noise when I increase the pressure and hollow my cheeks.
“Christ,” he curses, “fuckin’ perfect at this, too.”
His hand flexes in my hair. He’s not guiding. Just feeling. His breath hitches and I can tell he’s close.
I start to feel his cock pulsing and I don’t stop the steady motion I’ve created between my hand and my mouth. Instead, I suck him deeper. His entire body locks up and a ragged gasp is ripped from him as his hips jerk helplessly. His fingers tighten in my hair just shy of painful.
“Seriph,” he chokes out, “I’m gonna come down your fuckin’ throat if you don’t—” His warning cuts off with a shuddering groan as he comes hard. He lets out a low wrecked grunt that sounds almost surprised.
His orgasm catches us both off guard. I thought I had more time.
Pulse after pulse, spills hot cum between my lips.
I breathe through my nose and try to take as much as I can.
I keep working him through it with my hand.
I swallow in time with the spurts as they hit the back of my throat. He trembles through the aftershocks.
I pull my mouth off of him and suck in air. His hand lets go of my hair only to slide down and cradle my face instead. The gesture is tender, making my heart ache. It’s like he’s checking on me even now. His chest rising and falling as if he ran a mile in full gear.
“Fuck,” he rasps, “didn’t think you’d...”
His thumb brushes over my swollen bottom lip.
He tugs me up on the bed with him, crushing his mouth to mine.
The kiss is desperate, tasting himself on my tongue like he’s starving for it.
He pulls me flush against his chest, arms locking around me like steel bands.
His heart hammers against my own. The way his body shakes mildly with residual pleasure is proof of how thoroughly I unraveled him. The knowledge makes me feel powerful.
“Should’ve known,” he murmurs when he breaks for air, forehead resting against mine, “you’d be fuckin’ lethal at that too.” His hands slide down to grip my hips again, pulling me deeper between his legs.
“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” I admit, wiping my thumb across my lips.
I am actually surprised at how incredibly hot I found that. Every time I’ve given head in the past it felt like a chore, an obligation to keep whoever I was with happy. This wasn’t that. This was a fucking turn on. My own cheeks are flushed and my thighs rub together seeking friction.
He groans softly, eyes darkening as he watches me wipe his cum off my chin. His own hand reaching up to swipe across my bottom lip, getting what I missed in a way that borders on reverent.
“Not bad?” he questions, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You had me seein’ goddamn stars, Sunshine. That’s more than ‘not bad’.”
“I’ve never swallowed before,” I clarify hesitantly, insecurities trying to work their way through despite the very visible proof that he enjoyed it.
He stills for a fraction of a heartbeat before his eyes drop to my mouth again. His jaw is working like he’s wrestling with the information. “Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice now gravel deep. “Then I owe you.”
Before I can argue, he flips me onto my back. I squeal, my arms wrapping around his shoulders to steady myself. He leans down to tease the delicate skin of my throat, while his hands map familiar paths over my body, intending to make good on his debt.