Page 89 of The Rookie

I suck in a sharp breath, my entire body clenching around him, drowning in the sounds of us, in the way he makes me feel like I’m unraveling from the inside out.

“So good,” I moan, my voice breaking, not even caring how desperate I sound. “Faster. Deeper.”

“Avery,” he says, leaning down for a kiss. “Watch.”

He grunts, low and primal, and then—he gives me exactly what I want as he looks down at where he’s sliding in and out of me. Damn that’s a sight.

His lips curve into a grin, and the sight of it—of him, so raw and unguarded—makes my chest ache. He presses deeper, his pace quickening, and the tension inside me builds higher and higher, every nerve stretched taut, until it feels like I’m going to break apart beneath him.

"Let go," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. "I’ve got you, Avery. Let it all hang out.”

His words tip me over the edge, and I cry out, my body arching beneath him as the world shatters around me. Pleasure crashes over meagainin waves, sharp and consuming, leaving me trembling and breathless.

“Griff. Oh my good God,” I gasp, my voice breaking as my nails drag down his back. “You’re too much. It’s so fucking good with you.”

He groans, his jaw tightening as he picks up the pace, his movements harder, more demanding. Each thrust sends another jolt of pleasure ricocheting through me, the friction between us sparking something deeper, wilder.

“You’re not done,” he growls, his voice rough and breathless, like he’s barely holding himself together. “Not yet.”

Before I can respond, his hand slides down to grip my thigh, pushing it higher, deeper, as he drives his cock into me. My back arches off the bed as he stretches me—fuck me he’s not just long but he’s thick—another cry spilling from my lips as his control slips. His rhythm turns rougher, more insistent, and I meet him with everything I have, the room filled with the sound of skin on skin, his low groans mixing with my ragged breaths.

I whimper, his name falling from my lips like a plea.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his green eyes blazing as he watches me, his gaze raw, almost feral. “Take it, Avery. Take all of me. Oh baby. I’m gonna blow.”

I dig my fingers into his shoulders, my body clenching around him as the heat coils tighter, higher, until I can barely think straight. He grips my hip, holding me steady as his other hand tangles in my hair, tugging just enough to send another spark of pleasure shooting through me.

“You’re driving me insane,” he groans, his voice low and guttural as his hips snap forward, harder, deeper. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight.”

“Griffin, I can’t…” My words break off as another wave builds inside me, sharper this time, and I claw at his back, my nails raking over his skin.

“You can,” he growls, his teeth grazing the curve of my shoulder, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight down my spine. “You will. You’re taking me so well.”

His pace quickens, relentless now, and I’m helpless to do anything but hold on—my fingers digging into his arms, my breath coming in desperate, ragged moans.

Andfuck, I love this.

I love the way he fills me, stretches me, the way every thrust feels so impossibly deep I swear I can feel him everywhere.

“Oh fuck. Yes. Yes. Oh my God, Griff. Harder. Fuck me harder. Don’t stop.”

“Never.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

“You like that?” He says, running his thumb along my throat.

“Yes. God yeah.”

This isn’t soft, delicate sex. This isn’t fumbling or slow or sweet. This is big cock, porn star sex, the kind that leaves my legs shaking, my voice wrecked, my entire body aching in the best possible way.

And I fucking love it.

“For fucks’ sake, cum for me, Griff,” I manage to mutter. “I need it.”

The pressure builds faster than I can control, coiling deep in my belly, sending me spiraling over the edge again, my body tightening around him, clenching, shaking with release.

Griffin lets out a rough, broken sound, his rhythm stuttering, his grip bruising at my hips as I milk every last bit of control from him.

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