Page 94 of Under One Roof

I lay down my cheek and extend my arms above me to hold on to the edge of the mattress. Behind me, Griffin groans as he runs his palm along my spine, tracing the curve of my butt, sinking down to press his fingers against my entrance. I’m wet from the two orgasms he provided this morning, waking me up with his mouth between my legs. He’d already worked out and had breakfast. Now, he smears my desire all over my pussy and inner thighs, molding his hand to me for a long moment.

I love when he does that. Claims me. Without words, he lets me know that I’m his.

But he takes too long, and I shimmy my hips, pushing back against him. His laugh is gruff. “So impatient.” He feeds his cock into me, slowly working in one inch at a time until I’m full and panting. He bends his big body over me, sliding his left hand up my arm to lace our fingers together while he finds my clit with his right, his fingers circling with the exact right amount of pressure. I whimper, unable to move, simply taking it. His weight and heat, it’s all so overwhelming. Too much, yet not enough. I think I might accidentally suffocate trying to get him closer, but he’d never allow that to happen.

Always careful. Even when he breathes heavily against my ear, his damp chest against my back, pinning me in place. “You always feel so fucking good, but I can’t wait to take you bare.”

His words send chills racing over my sweaty skin. For a man of few words, he knows exactly what to say when we’re together. Especially when he wants to get me off. Nothing feels quite like the pride in his voice when he makes me come and praises me for it.

In one of our discussions this last week, we’d talked about how neither one of us wanted any more kids besides Logan and Grace. Since we’re committed to each other, we don’t have to use condoms, save for the birth control, and he’d happily agreed to get a vasectomy. Griffin being Griffin, he already called to make the consultation appointment.

He rolls his hips, setting off another wave of pleasure, and he reminds me to be quiet again as I orgasm one more time. I bite my lip, stifling my sounds, and I feel him nod, his stubbly jaw like sandpaper against my temple. “Attagirl.” He shifts up, eases off my clit to hold my hips, both hands gripping me hard. “Atta-fucking-girl. Always so good. So sweet.”

He takes off, snapping his hips in quick succession, and I have a difficult time getting air into my lungs, trapped under him, being wonderfully used. Because even when Griffin is rough with me, fucking me like he’s a little out of his mind, I know he’s doing it because he wants me out of my mind too. He wants me to stop thinking and feel all the things I’d always been afraid to feel during sex. He wants me to be dirty and playful and filthy and his perfect girl.

“That’s my perfect girl.” He sucks in air through his teeth, a sign he’s close to coming, his pace faltering until he stutters to a stop and falls on top of me for a few seconds. He kisses my temple and pulls me to his chest.

His heart beats steadily beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm that matches my own. We lie like that for a while, his fingers combing my baby hairs, mine lightly scratching over his hard pectoral muscle. Honestly, the man is 80% protein shake. Water? Never heard of it, unless he’s forcing me to drink it.

“You packed up?” he asks after a few seconds, and while I pretend to hate this game, it’s actually my favorite. The one where he makes sure I have everything anytime I leave the house.

“Yep.”

“All the information about your car saved on your computer?”

“Yes, Captain.”

He tugs on a few strands of hair as a reprimand. “It’ll make it easier for you when you go to sell it.”

“I know. I know.”

“Do you have your plane tickets printed out?”

That has me lifting my head. “No one does that anymore, Grandpa.”

His hand lands a sharp smack on my ass, and I squeal in surprise. Rolling so he’s on top of me, he kisses me hard. As if it’s punishment.

I wiggle underneath him, fighting a bit, and he pretends he’s not a former Navy SEAL, allowing me to thump his shoulder twice before he holds both of my wrists down on either side of my head, bracketing his knees around mine so I can’t move.

I smile.

So does he.

Then he rubs the tip of his nose against mine and kisses me once, softly. “You’ve ruined me.”

“Good.”

He huffs a chuckle. It sounds like he smoked ten packs of cigarettes last night. “No remorse whatsoever for turning me into some kind of simp for you?”

I shake my head. “You love it.”

He glares at me as if he doesn’t love it, giving in after a few seconds. He kisses me again, this time sweeping his tongue into my mouth, teasing me with short strokes interspersed with longer ones and scrapes of his teeth. He eventually lies next to me, his head propped up on his hand. “I’m going to miss you.”

I turn on my side, matching his position. “I’ll miss you too, but I’m looking forward to all the fun we’ll have.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah. Waiting in line for three hours for a ride that’ll take three minutes.”

“Hey, you had fun at Hershey.” When he refuses to answer, I poke him. “Admit it. You can’t wait to buy matching Mickey ears and get your picture taken in front of the castle.”

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