Chapter 21: A False Start: Chapter 21

Griffin says he trips over his tongue. I say he has it His tongue glides between my legs in a way I’ve never felt in my life. Most men I’ve been with treated going down on me like a chore, like the lead up to the main event.

But Griffin? He’s treating my pussy like it’s the star of the fucking show.

Every lick. Every nip. Every suck. He pushes me higher. He curls his fingers inside me, stroking a spot that has my legs shaking uncontrollably.

When I said I could be wetter, I I lied so goddamn hard. And then he spat on me, which just drove me crazy. Who knew I’d be so into that?

“How are you so fucking good at this?” I flop back on the pillow, one arm flung over my flaming face, the other tangled in his hair while I revel in the feel of his lips on my pussy as his beard scrapes against me. His fingers dig into the thigh that he has shoved up high and wide, and I keep my other one wrapped around the back of his bare shoulders, clamping him to me while I grind down on him.

He shoves me close to the edge and then yanks me back from it. Practically torturing me. Dragging this out in the most delicious way.

He pulls away for a moment. “You like this, Wildflower?”

I feel like I might finish to the sound of his voice alone, the slight burn of his cinnamon breath against my core.

“I love it.”

“Fucking right you do,” he says, before dropping his head back between my legs.

This filthy, confident side of him is new to me. It’s like it’s been lurking there under the surface, always dancing in his eyes. But now he’s brought it out to play, and I am so here for it.

Sex is familiar territory. This particular territory is better than any other I’ve explored, but it’s familiar all the same. Every nerve ending in my body is humming, coiling. Like they’re being stretched to the point they might snap.

To a point where I might come completely undone in a way that doesn’t feel familiar at all. He plays my body like an instrument. No one has mastered me this way.

And when he sucks hard on my clit while twisting his fingers into me, filling me so well, I come apart. I see stars.

“Griffin,” I cry out as my orgasm washes over me like a wave of hot water spilling over me, burning me. Every corner of my body heats, every toe curls, and my nails dig into his scalp, desperate to keep him in place.

His assault doesn’t stop. He pumps his fingers harder, his teeth graze my sensitive nub, and I go completely boneless under his attention.

“Fuck. That was hot.” He licks my seam once with a satisfied growl before pushing up to kneel and tower over me. He wipes his hand over his beard and then smiles down at me. Wickedly.

And I swoon. I swoon so fucking hard.

“You are so hot.” He fucked me stupid. That’s the only reason I would blurt something like that out.

The asshole just smirks. “Are you on birth control?”

“Yes.” I try to pull myself together, not wanting to sound like a love-drunk loon. “But we should probably call it quits there.” My eyelids are heavy. That was hands down the best orgasm of my life.

“Oh, yeah?” Griffin licks his lips, drawing my gaze to the way his tongue works across his skin.

“Yeah. I don’t think I can come any harder than that. It’s all downhill from here.”

His eyes flash. He looks like he’s ready to devour me. And a less reckless woman might quake under the intent in his gaze now.

Me? I just smile.

“Turn over. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

My heart rate skyrockets, and I consider refusing just to see what he does. But the sight of his huge, thick cock bobbing between us is too tempting.

I roll over slowly, noting that even the brush of the slippery sleeping bag fabric against my skin feels good. As always, I can sense his gaze on me. I push up onto my knees and elbows and arch my back before I turn and look back at him over my shoulder.

“Like this?”

His eyes are on my ass, and the suggestive way I’ve presented it to him. He palms one globe, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Almost,” he growls, and then his knee is between mine, shoving them further apart, positioning me exactly how he wants me.

I shiver when the thick head of his cock rubs against my pussy. Teasing across my oversensitive clit. Making my head bow down in response. It’s almost too much.

intense.

“Griffin.”

“Yes, Wildflower?” Another swipe, and then he notches the crown of his bare cock inside me for just a moment before withdrawing again.

The cruelest, most delicious type of torture.

“I don’t think I can come again. And that monster between your legs? I don’t think it’s going to fit.”

His responding chuckle is low. It breaks me out in gooseflesh. So heavy with promise and desire. He palms my ass and holds me open as he places his cock right at my entrance. “You can take it.” He swipes it across me again, and I tremble with anticipation. “You can. And you will.”

And then he shoves himself inside, to the hilt.

“Oh, my God.” I drop my face into the pillow, feeling like I might melt into the ground as his hands slide over my hips, gripping them like handles.

Truthfully, I think it’s the only thing keeping my ass up the way he wants. I’m so full. And he feels so delicious, stretching me the way he does.

I’ve waited so long to have him move inside me; I can’t stand waiting any longer.

“Please, move,” I beg, not caring how desperate I sound.

“I need a minute, Nadia,” he rasps. “You are so fucking tight.”

I wait, impatiently.

He presses a soft kiss to the center of my spine. “You feel so fucking good.”

Another kiss a couple inches higher, the tip of his tongue trailing behind.

I shiver.

“And you look so fucking pretty on your knees for me.”

A kiss lands on my shoulder blade as the delicious heat of his body seeps into my back.

His hand lands in front of my face on the pillow as he stretches out above me, claiming my body as his own while his cock throbs inside me. I wiggle my ass, trying to rid my body of the pressure that’s building again.

This time, he kisses my neck just before he whispers in my ear. “I’ll fuck you how you want me to, and I’ll take every shred of what you’re willing to give. But Nadia?”

“Yeah?” It’s a pathetic little sound, but it’s all I can manage right now.

He nips at my ear. The rasp of his beard against the sensitive skin there is a straight shot to my core that has me clenching hard around his girth.

“If you think I don’t want more, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”

I gasp, but he moves so quickly, wrapping my hair around his fist to hold me in place as he surges back upright, sliding himself out before slamming himself back in.

“Ah, God.” I go with him, pushing up onto my hands, my body rattling under the strength of his thrusts as I push back to meet him.

“Look at you, taking me so well.”

“More.” I moan.

He growls and fucks me harder. A small smile touches my lips before I fall back into a series of sighs and pants. The sound of his thighs slapping against mine is just as erotic as the feel of him moving inside of me.

“Harder.”

He chuckles darkly and slows down, running one hand up the column of my spine reverently before pushing me back down into the pillow that smells like him, and forcing my ass higher in the air.

“I said , Sinclaire.” Using his last name sounds wrong, but it also gives me a little distance. A little thread of control in the face of being consumed by him in a way I should have seen coming but didn’t.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Nadia.” He releases my hair and trails his hands all over my body, his length resting inside of me while I squirm, trying to force him to move, trying to move myself on him. Basically, rubbing myself on him desperately to dull the ache building inside of me again. “And don’t talk to me like I’m your teammate while I’m riding your pussy.”

His warm, calloused hands graze my shoulders, slide around my torso to cup my breasts, briefly squeeze my nipples so hard that it’s just this side of painful, before continuing their path. He explores me gently, in such contrast to everything else he’s ever done with me that I feel a tickle at the bridge of my nose.

He’s not fucking me, he’s learning me. Tracing me like braille in the dark. His filthy words are just a distraction for what’s really going on here.

My fists squeeze the pillow roughly and I swivel my hips, feeling his steely length grinding inside of me. “

.” My voice holds a crazed edge to it. I really need him to stop whatever this is.

I want him to bite me, use me, manhandle me. That’s fucking. This . . . this is not.

“Quiet, Wildflower.”

Gooseflesh covers my body. His voice is so deep that I swear it makes the ground rumble. I swear it trembles in my bones. He speaks straight to my body.

I raise my voice, feeling completely out of control. “Please!”

Griffin pulls out of me instantly, but his hands never leave my body. “Someone is going to hear you if you can’t shut up, Nadia.” The words should be harsh, but he says them so gently they send another jolt to my core.

“I don’t care.” The words tumble out before I can stop them.

I’m not so sure. I’m not thinking straight right now, with Griffin’s hands here worshipping me like I’m something special.

I’m not myself.

One of his big hands shoots forward to cup my chin and I push up onto my palms, turning my chin over my shoulder. My gaze crashes into his, even though it feels safer to keep my eyes trained on the pillow before me.

He raises his opposite leg in a show of power, his foot flat on the ground while his hand grips my ass.

He thrusts into me once, and I make a needy little moaning noise. “You keep your eyes on mine.”

I nod, feeling the tips of his fingers flex, gently pressing into my jawbone.

He thrusts again, slowly gliding in and out now. “And you keep quiet.”

My eyes flare. “No.”

The smile he gives me now is pure sex, pure challenge, and it sends a jolt of electricity to my core. His tongue darts out, followed by his bottom teeth scraping over his full lower lip, drawing my gaze away from his.

“Fine, then.” My eyes snag on one dimple, and I stare at him dreamily.

It’s a testament to how lost I am in him that I barely notice when he shoves two fingers into my mouth. Hooking them into my cheek.

And then he unleashes.

One hand grips my waist, the other fills my mouth, all while he pumps into me. His thrusts are rough inside me; his hands are steel on my skin. He’s like some dark, avenging God using my body in any way he sees fit. Golden skin, a light smattering of dark hair across his defined chest, perspiration glistening over every hard ridge of his chiseled body.

But his eyes? His eyes glow with softness. And I get lost there. In that look.

My thighs shake as I meet him thrust for thrust. Pressure builds and coils. The tenderness in that look wraps around my heart like vines while he plays my body so capably.

A smarter girl would realize what a goner she is right now. But I’m not her. I’m a survivor. So, I push those feelings in my chest aside and focus on the flames engulfing my body, on how good Griffin Sinclaire makes my body feel.

“Fuck. Nadia. I’m . . . I’m going to fill you up so good.”

I whimper. We topple over that cliff in perfect unison. He curses under his breath as he shoots his release into me, and I cry out, the sounds muffled by his hand. I shut my eyes as I turn myself over to the turbulent waters of another orgasm, feeling the sensual slide of his skin against mine, coming apart beneath the hands of a man who fucks me like he doesn’t care but looks at me like he does.

He looks at me like he cares an awful lot. And is absolutely terrifying.