Page 55 of Lessons in Heartbreak

“You could kiss me,” I whispered back.

He rolled his forehead against mine, sucking in a sharp breath. “You gonna let me? You gonna beg me for it if I hold out much longer? Tell me you want this, baby.”

That unthinking nickname flipped a switch under my skin. It wasn’t a holdover from our childhood, something cute and sweet and innocent. It was tossed out in the heat of the moment, falling off his tongue because he couldn’t stop himself.

Tell him I wanted this? Easiest thing I’d ever done.

“Griffin, please—”

The word was barely out when Griffin slanted his mouth over mine—a skillful, bold first kiss. Nothing like I’d expected, which was what made it so achingly perfect. It wasn’t tentative and innocent. It was sex in a kiss. The kind that made for sweaty skin and whispered dirty words.

And when his slick, hot tongue teased the line of my lips, I opened immediately, throwing my arms around his big shoulders and holding on for dear life.

The man could kiss. If there was anything he was better at than this, I’d explode before I ever got the chance to experience it.

His arms moved down my back, gathering me closer to him as his lips worked in a devastating push and pull over mine. He sucked at my bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue afterward. That tongue moved back into my mouth, tangling with my own until my back arched, pressing my aching breasts into his chest.

When I dug my hands into the thick length of his hair and tightened my fingers, he groaned, the sound reverberating deep through my bones as I lost myself in that kiss. Lost myself in Griffin.

How easily I could let him carry me away completely. When did this happen? When did he become the safest man I knew? The only one I trusted with this kind of mindless desire, this frantic, clawing desperation.

His hips rolled against my center, and I gasped, throwing my head back as I registered the hard, hot,biglength of him.

“Oh,” I exhaled.

“For you, baby,” he murmured against my throat, then dragged his teeth against the line of my neck.

For me.

There was no faking this, no polite veneer over the way his hands clutched my body to his. All this ... forme. God, the way it made my mind spin and spin and spin.

Being wanted by Griffin was power unleashed, my skin sparking with invisible bits of magic. There was a reason this was addicting, why desire became a trembling sort of craving that couldn’t be ignored.

He wanted me. There was proof hard against my body, and even if it was just for this moment, I wanted him too. More than I’d wanted anyone in my entire life—to a senseless, illogical degree.

It wasn’t really senseless, though. I could pull threads of logic in every single step that got us here, with his mouth on mine and his arms curled tight around my frame in a way that made me feel ... everything. I felt everything with him, and it was perfect.

It was a loss of control that I welcomed because handing it to him felt like the only conclusion I could possibly reach. Griffin sucked at the sensitive skin underneath my ear, licking along my jaw until he took my mouth again in another searing kiss. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t entirely sure what to do, that the steps of this dance were unfamiliar to me, because he masterfully led me through each kiss, each twist of his tongue around mine.

His hands dove into my hair again, tilting my head so that the angle of the kiss changed into something luxurious and decadent. Our kisses slowed, deepened. Burrowing farther into his arms kept me from trembling, and it was the heat of his body that had me sighing softly as he changed the angle again with a deep, rumbling groan. The way his hands mapped out my body, along my back and waist, up over my shoulder to cup the base of my neck, using his thumbs to lift my chin into another kiss.

There were too many clothes in between us, and a restless sort of energy built and built in my fingertips, desperate to tear at whatever separated us. This was a possession, a not-so-simple kiss from the absolute last person I should be touching.

He slid one big palm around to cup my breast, his thumb circling around my impossibly hard tip. “You feel incredible.”

I couldn’t breathe. It felt so good I couldn’t breathe.

Then his hand settled over my sternum—and a bright throb of panic made my eyes snap open. “Wait,” I gasped.

Immediately, Griffin pulled back, his eyes searching my face while he pulled his hands off me. “Too much?”

I settled my hands over my chest and took a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. “Maybe,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Griffin ducked his head down. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” I cupped his face and pulled his forehead down to mine, letting them rest together while we struggled to catch our breath. “Don’t be sorry. That was ...” I shook my head. “That was incredible.”

He gave me a tiny smile. “I’ll paint you a thousand pictures if that’s the way you want to thank me.”

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