Seriphina Joseph #3
“Not yet.” He keeps his voice low, mindful of the gossip circle within hearing distance. “Bishop’s workin’ on a lead.” He moves in a little closer, leaning in towards my ear. “Besides, told you I wasn’t leavin’ until I knew you were good. And last night? You weren’t good.”
“I’m better today.” I brush off his concern.
His expression darkens, before he tugs me closer. “Don’t lie to me.” His thumb brushes my wrist, like he’s trying to use my heart rate to ferret out the truth. “You went pale as a ghost when Esther mentioned the bruises. And if I hadn’t stepped in...”
The cash register closes with a bang. “And I said thank you, but I really don’t need you hovering.” I yank free of his hold and go over to the kettles.
The muscle in his jaw ticks. I’m walking a fine line.
Problem is I’m too worked up to care. I refill the kettles and organize the tea bags.
He grabs my arm hard. And the next thing I know, we are walking around the counter and across the store.
Marci, Darla and the others staring after us with their mouths hanging open.
He pulls me into the stockroom and closes the door.
I find my voice as it clicks shut behind me. “Griffin! You can’t drag me into the fucking stockroom like I’m some misbehaving child!” I turn to leave.
He spins me around, a hand braced beside my head. He’s a breath away from me, eyes narrowed. A shiver of something that should be fear jolts down my spine.
“You are far from bein’ a misbehavin’ child,” he growls. “But you will not lie to me.”
His free hand brushes hair back from my face, gentle compared to how hard he has me pinned.
“You think I haven’t noticed the nightmares?
The way you flinch if someone moves too fast?
How you keep lookin’ over your shoulder?
I can’t even touch you like this...” His palm slides down to the underside of my jaw. “Without you tensin’ up.”
I try my best not to flinch. I’m not irritated at him.
It’s facing my own weakness. The reminder that I’m supposed to be broken, acknowledging the fact that things aren’t back to normal just because I’m in my store, my loft.
I want to pretend nothing happened. I thought once I returned to my routine, my happy place, it would go away.
Instead of conceding to him and admitting he’s right, I double down. “Is this you reading me again? Because I’d really like for you to cut it the fuck out.” I glare up at him defiantly.
He holds my gaze, boxing me against the door. He moves his hand to the base of my throat, his fingers wrapping lightly around it. Tender despite the expression on his face. He looks dangerous like this. I’m suddenly very aware of how easily he could snap my neck. His thumb brushes over my pulse.
“Then be honest with me,” he pleads.
Being honest with him means I have to be honest with myself and I don’t want to do that. Because doing that would mean I have to admit that I’m not okay. And if I admit that then it will be true and I won’t make it through the day. I try to shove him back. My hands flat against his chest.
He leans in harder, not budging an inch. His hand slides higher so that he’s fully gripping my throat. He doesn’t add pressure, doesn’t tighten his grip. Just holds me there.
“Stop trying to piss me off, Seriph.” The low timbre of his voice accelerates my heart rate for reasons that make me angrier. “It’s not workin’.”
“Really? Because you seem pretty pissed to me.” I snark.
I put all of my energy into being mad. At him, at the universe, at the assholes that made me this way—it’s the only way to avoid the panic welling up inside of me.
He presses a bit harder in warning. “Stop it. I’d never hurt you. You know that. But for once, I need you to be honest with me. You’re not okay. And you need to stop pretendin’ otherwise. So tell me. What are you afraid of right now? Because I know it’s not me.”
For the briefest moment, my eyes flick to the door behind him. The door to my nightmares. “I’m not afraid.” I lie, my hands wrap around his wrist.
His expression turns lethal. His hand tightening a fraction, enough to bring my attention back to him and not the door.
“You think I don’t see you lookin’ at that door, like you’re expectin’ them to walk in here and finish what they started?
” He leans in so his lips brush against the shell of my ear.
“They’re dead, Seriph. Dead. And I’ll make sure Sokolov joins them. ”
He pulls back to look down at me. My brow draws together in confusion.
I search his eyes rapidly for any signs of deceit.
He had two weeks where he came and went.
I never asked him what he did while he was gone.
It wasn’t my business. And he never offered.
I know he doesn’t owe me any explanation about what he does every day when he’s working but I didn’t expect killing people to be on the list.
“How do you know that?” My voice trembles.
The muscle in his jaw ticks. For a second it looks like he might tell me. “Trust me, Wildflower.” His thumb rubbing softly against the side of my neck. “They’re not gonna hurt you again. I made sure of it. I won’t let anyone touch you like that.”
“You killed them?” My breath hitches, he told me he would kill for me when we started this.
But he’s been with me constantly since I agreed to give feelings a chance.
I didn’t think he was serious. I thought it was something guys say when they want to be macho and protective. Did he say that because he already had?
“Does it scare you?” His voice is barely a whisper, his hand firmly braced around my neck.
It doesn’t feel like a threat, it feels like possession.
“Can you live with it? Can you handle the fact that I made sure they would never touch you again? Made sure they paid for what they did to you?” He studies my face.
“You don’t need to know what happened to them.
You don’t need to know how I did it. You just need to know this, you won’t ever need to look at that damn door again wonderin’ if they’re gonna come through it. You’re safe. I promise you that.”
My heart’s racing in my chest, my mind whirling.
Am I scared? Not of him. If anything it oddly brought me some weird sense of relief.
Like this anvil had been hanging over my head and it just disappeared.
Can I live with it? Can I be with a man who literally kills for me?
I feel like I should be disgusted, terrified.
But I’m not. Not after what I went through. I’m not sorry they’re dead.
The information comforts me enough that my hands don’t squeeze his wrist as hard and I melt against the door.
I should be pissed that he’s standing here holding me by my neck.
But I’m not. I feel safe. Safer than I have in weeks.
And that is what has me the most confused.
The fact that I don’t know what to do with how I feel.
The moment I relax, he staggers. “Breathe,” he mutters.
“You’re okay. You’re okay, it’s alright.
” His hold loosens and he deflates. “You feel it, don’t you?
” He presses his forehead to mine. “That weight liftin’ off of you?
That’s what I wanted.” He pulls back to look into my eyes again. “No one hurts what’s mine.”
I take a breath. I do feel it. Whether I judge myself for it or not is irrelevant. But knowing they are no longer breathing feels really fucking good. So good that when I open my eyes, I’m staring straight at Griffin’s mouth.
His breath catches in his chest. His lips part and his hand tightens around my throat again. I’m not afraid of him. And that knowledge seems to ignite something hot and dangerous between us both.
“Wildflower. Don’t look at me like that.” The words rumble from his chest. “Not unless you’re ready for what I might do.”
Click.
I flick the lock to the stockroom. Then he’s on me, crushing his mouth to mine with zero patience or pretenses.
One hand, wrapped around my throat, while the other slides down my side and grips my thigh pulling it up around his hip.
His tongue pushes into my mouth stifling my moan.
I’m lifted, like I weigh nothing. My back hits one of the stocked shelves hard enough to rattle the jars of herbs.
He growls as he pushes his hips harder between my legs.
He spins us and my ass comes down hard on an empty counter.
He yanks my shirt up and over my head. Then he’s back to touching and tasting every inch he can reach.
It’s like he’s consumed by lust and the only remedy is me.
He jerks my hips hard against him and I gasp, my hands bracing me against his chest. He pulls my bottoms off, panties and pants all in one go.
I have to grab onto him to keep from falling off the counter.
He pushes in between us and his fingers slip between my legs and when he finds me already wet for him, he growls.
“Fuck.” His fingers circle my clit before shoving inside with a pressure that has my head falling back.
“You feel like heaven,” he rasps into the side of my neck.
He doesn’t care that we are in the back of my store where anyone can hear.
There’s no time for slow and gentle. Not when something far more feral is taking over. “Condom, back pocket.”
I reach around behind him, biting my lip to keep from moaning too loudly while he’s curling his fingers inside me. His other hand comes up to cup my breast, running his thumb over my nipple until it’s taut and sensitive.
“Get my pants undone,” he says, right before sucking the hardened peak into his mouth.
I do as I’m told and unbutton his jeans.
The pull of my fingers has his hips jerking forward instinctively.
The moment I free his hard length, he’s pressing the condom into my hand and capturing my mouth.
He bites down on my bottom lip. He guides my fingers with his own, rolling it down in record time.
“Now.” He rumbles against my throat. He withdraws his fingers, lining himself up and slamming into me with one thrust. His mouth comes down hard on mine again stifling my cry.
He doesn't give me time to adjust, driving into me again, deep and unrelenting, swallowing every desperate noise I make as my nails dig into his shoulders.
His hand fists into the back of my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat to his teeth as he sets a brutal pace that rattles the shelves around us.
“Fuckin’ mine.” His words are rough against my sweat slick skin.
He grunts between sharp thrusts that leave no room for gentleness.
He's marking, claiming, ruining me with every snap of his hips until there's nothing left but this moment.
The counter creaks under the force, the jars and bottles clinking dangerously above us.
He sets a furious pace. His cock sends shockwaves of pleasure through me, his teeth cutting into my shoulder.
He doesn't slow down, doesn't soften, not when the need is this raw between us.
“Say it,” he demands. Groaning as he pulls out and slams in again. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“You.” I cry out, holding onto him. “I belong to you.” My vision whites out. My orgasm tears through me in wave after pulsating wave as I moan and tighten around him.
“Damn right you do.” With a final brutal thrust, his hips lock up and he comes with a growl that's animalistic. His forehead drops to mine, as he rides out the aftershocks.
For a moment, there's only the sound of our mingled breathing and the distant tinkle of wind chimes in the store outside. We take a minute to come down, my core quivering around him every few seconds. I drop my head to his chest and giggle.
“Sunshine, if you can still laugh, I haven't done my job right.” There's a trace of amusement in his tone. He lifts my chin. His expression is soft, disheveled, and utterly mesmerizing. “What’re you gigglin’ for?”
“There's no way they didn't hear that.” I would be blushing if I wasn't already flushed after coming all over him.
He laughs, a deep unguarded sound that vibrates against my skin. He braces his hands on either side of me. The smirk he gives me is downright wicked. “You could be right about that.”
He pulls out, an action that causes both of us to suck in air.
He removes the condom, tying it off before wrapping it in a paper towel and throwing it in the trash.
He helps me down and grabs my clothes. Pulling my shirt over my head so delicately, you'd think he was handling glass.
Once I'm dressed he kisses my forehead and holds up a finger.
I raise a brow and he goes into the store.
“There's no one out there.” He grins after he returns. “And someone flipped the closed sign on the way out.” He takes my hand leading me out of the stockroom.
I don't know whether to be mortified or grateful. “I wonder if it was Marci or Darla that ran everyone off.”
“From what little I gathered when I talked to them? It was probably both. I can tell those women care about you.” He guides me upstairs. “Come on, why don’t you lie down and I'll make you lunch.”
I stop halfway up the stairs. “But I need to lock up and—”
“After the poundin’ I just gave you, you're gonna let me look after you. I'll lock up, you relax.” He pulls me in front of him and slaps my ass. Despite his playful behavior, his shoulders are tight and he’s avoiding my eyes.
“What's wrong?” I ask, kicking my shoes off and climbing into bed.
“Should've been more careful.” His hand rubs the back of his neck.
“More careful with what?”
“You.” He looks at me, sheepishly. “After... I should've held back. Knowin' you aren't scared of me after tellin’ you what I did. I...”
“I'm alright. You didn't hurt me.” I smile at him. “It was fucking amazing. Let's do it again sometime, yeah?”
He chuckles. “Say the word, Wildflower." Then he walks off to go lock up downstairs and turn off the lights.