Page 43 of Griffin

Finally, I was balls deep inside him. I pulled away from him.

“You okay?” I asked him.

“More than okay. Just move, Griffin,” he said, the demand in his voice making me chuckle.

I pumped in and out of him, settling on a rhythm which suited us both.

Sweat soon covered our bodies as Michael started meeting me for every push.

My balls tightened against me. I knew I wouldn’t last long and judging by Michael’s tense muscles, he wouldn’t either.

I switched the angle of my thrust. Michael arched his back, whimpered.

I knew I found his sweet spot and kept aiming for it until Michael came, screaming out my name.

My own climax wasn’t far behind. After pumping in and out of him a few times, I followed.

My vision blurred and the room fell away from my line of sight. Panting, I pulled out of Michael.

After cleaning up, I lay next to him. The warmth of Michael against me was something I never thought I’d get to experience.

His head rested on my chest, his breathing steady as we lay tangled together on my bed.

My arm was draped around his shoulders, holding him close, while his hand lazily traced circles over my stomach.

It was quiet, peaceful, and everything I hadn’t known I needed until this moment. But peace was fleeting.

My wolf stirred as my gaze slid to the soft curve of Michael’s neck, his skin inviting and impossibly close.

The primal part of me reared up, urging me to claim him, to leave a mate mark on his neck as a declaration to the world that he was mine.

The intensity of the urge caught me off guard.

My chest tightened, my fingers reflexively curling against Michael’s arm as I wrestled with the instinct.

Mating was forever, a bond that couldn’t be undone. Was Michael ready for that? Was I?

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my wolf back. The answer wasn’t simple. The moment Michael had walked into my bar, I’d known.

Hell, I’d felt it even earlier, back at the convention when I’d chased off his stalker.

My wolf had recognized him as mine, my mate, long before I’d allowed myself to even entertain the thought.

But this wasn’t just about me. Michael deserved to make this choice freely, to know the weight of what mating meant.

He wasn’t ready yet, and maybe I wasn’t either. Rushing it could ruin everything, and I wouldn’t risk that—not with him.

“Griffin?” Michael’s voice was soft, tinged with curiosity.

He shifted slightly, tilting his head up to look at me. “What’s on your mind? You’ve gone quiet,” Michael remarked.

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze.

Those gorgeous eyes of his were filled with warmth, the kind that could melt away all my doubts if I let it.

“Us,” I said honestly, brushing my fingers along his arm. “Where we’re going.”

Michael smiled, the corners of his mouth quirking up into that playful grin that never failed to make my heart race.

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