Seriphina Joseph #2
He grins wolfishly, at the sound I make.
His teeth dig in, leaving a faint mark before he soothes it with his tongue.
He kisses lower, over my collarbone, between my breasts, down the plane of my stomach.
He’s on his knees on the floor, kneeling like I did.
He grabs hold of my hips and jerks me to the end of the bed, slotting my thighs over his shoulders.
He doesn’t waste any time, his mouth is on me with a purpose. His tongue is flat and broad as he drags it through my slick heat in one slow, filthy stroke. His hand moves to pin my hips down when I jolt at the sensation, keeping me exactly where he wants me.
“Fuck,” he growls, taking a moment to nibble the inside of my thigh, “you taste better than I remember.”
His fingers move to spread me open, giving him better access.
His tongue returns to my clit, flicking over it, once, twice, before sucking it into his mouth, making me see stars.
My back arches off the bed and I cry out as he continues his onslaught.
He slows; tasting, exploring, memorizing every sensitive spot.
“So damn responsive,” he praises.
My fingers find the softness of his hair, trying to find some way to anchor myself. He groans, the vibration sending another shockwave of pleasure through me. His tongue presses firm and flat against my clit, circling it before sucking it into his mouth again. My thighs quiver.
“That’s it,” he growls between strokes, “come on my mouth.”
His permission is all I need. I arch off the mattress as white hot pleasure crashes over me.
Wave after wave, leaving me trembling under his relentless mouth.
He doesn’t let up until the last throb runs through me, easing back with one final slow lick that makes my hips jerk.
He rests his forehead against my inner thigh for a moment, before lifting his head.
His chin is slick, eyes dark with satisfaction.
He takes in my wrecked state with a smug grin.
“Now we’re even,” he says triumphantly, before crawling back up to claim another kiss, letting me taste myself on him this time.
I work to catch my breath. “I don’t know, I think I might owe you now.”
He snorts and kisses the corner of my mouth before rolling onto his side next to me.
He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at me while dragging a lazy hand down my chest. He circles my hardened nipple.
“Keep thinkin’ like that,” he mutters, “and breakfast isn’t happenin’ til lunch.
” His fingers tease, dipping lower until he’s between my thighs.
I shiver when he makes contact with my sensitive flesh. “Some people might say we both already had breakfast,” I breathe out, squirming under his touch.
“Some people aren’t wrong.” He laughs, a low and rough sound that rumbles through his chest. “But I’m not done yet.”
His fingers continue their lazy light circle.
He leans over me and nips at my neck. Making his way down my chest, he elicits a gasp from me when he sucks my nipple into his mouth.
He swirls his tongue around the tight bud before pushing his fingers inside me with a soft twist. I arch in surprise.
The intrusion wrings a moan from my lips.
The asshole grins against my breast like he won the lottery.
His touch is gentle as he pumps his fingers.
He makes sure I’m not too sensitive before lazily running his thumb over my clit, building me back up slowly.
“If I had my way, I’d keep you right here all day. Let you ride my mouth, my fingers, my cock. Take you how I want you, till you’re too damn tired to move.”
He watches me shiver with half-lidded eyes. He leans down to kiss me again. I feel the sting of teeth against my lower lip before he pulls back again.
“But since we’ve got shit to do,” he grumbles, “guess I’ll have to settle for one more round.”
He grinds against my hip in a deliberate tease. I suck in a breath at the proof that he’s hard again.
“Come here.” He rolls me on top of him.
His hands move down to grip my hips, guiding me until I’m straddling his waist. He is hard and hot against my ass.
He opens the nightstand, pulling out a foil square and tearing it open with his teeth. The muscles flex in his bicep as he rolls it down. His hands return to my hips.
“Lift up,” he commands, guiding me. He helps me move back, reaching a hand between us and lining himself up. He steadies me, lowering me down onto him, deep and slow. He groans and my fingers dig into his abs as I stretch to accommodate him. His eyes lock onto mine, pupils blown wide with hunger.
“Fuck,” he rasps through gritted teeth. “Take what you need. Ride me.” His hands slide up my waist, fitting perfectly into the curves at my ribs.
He thrusts his hips up and I gasp as he bottoms out.
The muscles on his stomach flex beneath my palms. I grind on top of him, taking my pleasure and chasing what feels good.
His grip tightens as he watches me move.
His chin tipped down, storm-gray eyes locked on where we’re joined.
A rough sound claws its way out of his throat, hips canting up instinctively.
“Christ,” he grits out. “I fuckin’ love how greedy you get for it.”
His hands slide around to palm my ass, guiding my movements. He’s not forcing, but urging, until the rhythm is perfect. Every roll of my hips has him biting back a groan.
The pace is a slow deliberate drag. His cock presses into that sensitive spot inside me, while my clit grinds against the rough trail of hair leading down his abdomen. His jaw is clenched tight, veins standing out on his forearms as he fights the need to take over.
“Look at you,” he praises, “ridin’ me like it’s your goddamn job.”
His thumb finds my clit again and I whimper. He circles it in time with each roll of my hips until I flutter around him.
His eyes darken when he feels it, “Yeah, there it is.”
My orgasm crashes through me like a wave, slow building at first, then all consuming, drawing out a broken cry from my lips as my body locks around him. He doesn’t stop, grasping tighter to keep me moving as pleasure whites out my vision.
“That’s it,” he growls, “fuckin’ milk me dry.”
His release follows hard, a rough groan tears from his chest as he spills into the condom, hips jerking up into mine a final time before stilling underneath me.
I collapse, my face turned to the side with my cheek pressed over the pounding of his heart.
For a long moment, the only sound is our breathing.
He slides his hand up my spine. “Still think we aren’t even?”
“I owe you one,” I mumble.
His hand stops moving for a heartbeat before he laughs. He traces idle patterns over my shoulder blades. “That was me bein’ an idiot,” he mutters, voice gravelly with satisfaction. “We’re square, Sunshine.” He tips his head to kiss my temple.
“Okay,” I concede. I’m not really in an argumentative mindset after two mind-blowing orgasms.
He grunts, clearly not believing me, but he lets it slide. His palm drifts down to rest on my lower back, fingers splayed possessively. “Gonna need fuel if we’re keepin’ this up,” he states. “Pancakes or eggs? And before you say anything, yes, there’s bacon.”
“Pancakes,” I mutter, making no move to get off of him. Pancakes after sex sound divine but I’m boneless and content.
Griffin presses another brief kiss to my forehead before pulling out, making us both grunt. He walks to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and clean up, grabbing his sweatpants on the way. He practically swaggers back into the bedroom.
“You stay there,” he orders over his shoulder. “I’ll make breakfast. Don’t try to come and help. I’ll end up bendin’ you over the table.”
I can’t tell if that’s a challenge or a threat. I laugh as he goes out the door and down the hallway, checking his phone on the way.
I go to the bathroom to pee and get dressed.
I’m in an exceptionally good mood. After everything that’s happened these last two weeks, I’m surprised I can be this happy.
I know I told him I don’t do feelings but he was right.
There’s no universe where I could be physical with this man and not feel something.
I was lying to us both. I brush my hair, humming to myself.
He shouts down the hall, “How do you feel about waffles instead?”