But he’d waited much too long to rush things now.
He carried her over to the bed, tipping them both down onto the mattress, and for a long while, there was nothing but heat. Need.
And greed for her like a fist that gripped him, hard.
He kissed her until they were both out of breath, and then he helped himself to that line of her neck, the ridge of her collarbone where she often rested her hand and drove him crazy.
She rolled on top of him, settling herself in just the right way against him so that they both caught their breath.
He liked it when she sat up. It was easier to pull that T-shirt off, then get rid of her bra, so he could finally get a look at the perfect curves of her breasts and, better yet, fill his hands with them. Her hair was everywhere, curling between them, sliding this way and that, and as he tugged her down to take her mouth again, he buried his hands in all that blond silk.
Then he flipped her over, because she wasn’t the only one who liked being on top, and found himself grinning against her mouth as she fought him to get his henley off. He reared back, tugging his shirt the rest of the way off and tossing it aside.
“All of it,” she ordered him. “I want it all off.”
“Stop,” he told her when her hands moved to her jeans. She stared up at him, her hair tousled and her lips swollen from his, the tips of her breasts pink and inviting while passion turned her blue eyes navy. “I want to undress you myself.”
She actually obeyed him for once, and he took care of his clothes, coming back to her like a man possessed. He kissed her until she was squirming against him, into him, and then he started all over again.
Griffin found his way down the column of her neck, back to her beautiful breasts. When she was arching against him, her head thrown back and pretty keening noises coming out of the back of her throat, he moved lower. He tested the shallowness of her navel and the sweet slope of her belly. His hands found her hips and caged her, enjoying the way she bucked against him.
He took his time finding the button to her jeans and tugged them down, but not all the way off, trapping her. He settled where he was, holding her down, and then pressed his mouth to that pretty bit of lace between her legs.
She tasted like sugar and smoke, and he was only getting started. Her hands were on his head, and she rocked against him. Harder and more insistent, until he took pity on her.
Griffin angled himself up and tugged her jeans off of one leg. He went down again, pulling her leg over his shoulder to hold her open and wide before him.
And this time, when he bent to taste her, he let his fingers slip beneath the lace. She was scalding hot, entirely too beautiful, and he couldn’t keep himself from toying with her. When she started to moan, he bent close again, held the lace to one side, and licked his way into all her sweetness.
She shattered almost instantly.
Griffin rode it out, then moved, shifting back off of her. He freed her other leg from her jeans and pulled her panties down. Then he tossed them aside so she was as naked as he was.
Mariah was still shaking while he dealt with the condom, and her eyes were dreamy and hot when she opened them again.
She took his breath away.
But she was talking, her drawl even more honeyed than usual, and now he knew that she tasted the way she sounded. “To clarify, the man who had no intention of ever having sex carries condoms around?”
“I like to be prepared for any eventuality.”
“Oh sure. You’re just like a Boy Scout.”
Griffin gathered her against him, pulling her knees up on either side and settling between her thighs. He notched himself against her heat, watching her eyes grow dark and wild all over again.
“On my honor, I do swear,” she began chanting, taunting him even now.
But that only made it hotter.
Especially when he thrust in, deep.
They both made a noise at that.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Finally.”
And then, because he could, he went slow.
Hauntingly, deliberately slow.