Page 81 of Lessons in Heartbreak

A deep hum came from the back of his throat, and I wanted to hear it against my ear. Wanted to hear it while he held my hands down on the bed and worked my body until I was screaming so loud the neighbors could hear. My head was dazed and spinning, standing in the bright sunshine, no one to see us but the trees, and his hands slowly coasting over my backside to tug me even closer. He adjusted his seat on the car, bringing his hard body flush with my center.

“Not sure anyone’s ever said that to me before,” he said, eyes full of wondrous heat.

When I’d gotten dressed that morning, I had thought about touching him. I had thought about watching when he tipped over the edge of control, like I had in the bathroom—shuddering and gasping in the circle of his arms.

I leaned forward and placed a featherlight kiss on his lips, and when I pulled back, he rested his forehead on mine, his hands gripping me firmly around my hips. The hard press of his thumb into the sensitive skin just underneath my hip bone had me hissing in a breath.

Prying my eyes open, I looked down at his lap, at the impressive bulge underneath his joggers, and I licked my lips again.

“Why the hell are you looking at me like that, baby?” he whispered, raw and rough through gritted teeth.

I lifted my head and remembered what Lauren had said before he picked me up.

If I wanted to ... I should.

No matter what it was, and no matter how many times I might have talked myself out of it under normal circumstances.

“I owe you,” I whispered back, tugging slightly on the waistband of his joggers with curled fingers that brushed against the heated skin of his stomach. “Let me.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, tipping his head back. “What if someone drives back here?”

I placed a light kiss at the front of his throat, where the hard wedge of his Adam’s apple stood against his tan skin. He didn’t stop me, though.

On the contrary, Griffin helped me tug his pants down just far enough that we might not get arrested for indecent exposure. He braced one hand on the car, adding a slight barrier for anyone who might approach from that side. From a distance, we’d look like a couple embracing.

“You really want this?” he asked. “With me, I mean.”

I held his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes.”

Griffin exhaled, the sound as unsteady as any I’d heard from him, and eventually he nodded. “Who am I to say no to Ruby Tate?” he asked, and then he dropped his mouth to my neck and sucked at the sensitive spot where my shoulder curved.

When he was free of the confines of his pants, it was a really good thing he wasn’t looking at my face, because my eyes widened almost comically, my jaw hinging open.

If there was a part of my psyche still trapped in middle school, I would’ve run screaming from the sight of the absolute monster he was hiding in his pants. But considering the height and the big hands and the big feet ... he was very, very proportional.

I almost let out a panicked laugh, but blew out a slow breath and focused instead on the heat of his skin as I started exploring.

Griffin was nosing against my neck, licking lightly at my skin, grunting softly as he helped me wrap my fingers around his length.

“Like that,” he groaned. “You won’t hurt me, baby.”

I exhaled shakily, relishing the way he felt. Hard. So hard. Soft and smooth as I moved my hand. And beautiful, but I didn’t dare say that out loud.

My fingers wouldn’t touch as they wrapped around him, and there was something wildly intimidating about that, as was the way he tightened our intertwined grasp so much harder than I ever would’ve dared.

“What else do you want me to do?” I asked.

Griffin snaked his arm around my waist and brought us closer, fingers gripping my ribs under the mesh shirt, and with my hand between us, I worked him with small rolling motions of my wrist. When I tightened my grip, squeezing hard, he slanted his mouth over mine with a groan, his tongue seeking mine in a demanding sweep between my lips.

It felt so wicked, being kissed like this, with arguably the most beautiful penis in existence in my hand and Griffin King making helpless growling noises into my mouth.

I’d never felt wicked in thirty years on this earth, and wearing that mantle now scrambled something delicious in my brain. I don’t know what cosmic intervention brought this man back into my life’s path, but I wanted to send them a giant freaking thank-you basket.

I sucked lightly on his tongue, and he grunted into my mouth, pulling back from the kiss to tug at my wrist until my hand was up by his mouth. As he held my eyes, he licked a wide swath over my palm, and I gasped when he settled our joined hands around him again.

“That’s it,” he groaned.

“Tell me if this is good,” I begged, words tumbling out unchecked. “What do you think about when you do it to yourself?”

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