Page 91 of Mess With Me

There’s so much heat in his gaze I nearly come undone.

“I don’t know,” he rasps.

I press my hands on the side of the tub, knowing I’m revealing my breasts to him.

“Jesus,” he growls, his eyes on my bare tits.

I stand up then, revealing all of me. Lukewarm water hammers down on my shoulder, doing nothing to cool the heat burning inside me.

His eyes rake over my body, his hands flexing at his sides. “Do you know what it’s like being me?” He takes a step toward me. “Having to be close to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, one who drives me fucking insane? Who sleeps in my clothes in my bed?”

“Tell me,” I say, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water. I can feel my nipples hardening into stiff peaks for him, plucking forward, aching as his eyes dance over me.

“It’s impossible.” He reaches me, gently sliding his hands over my hips, his working hands rough against the smooth slickness of my wet skin. “I thought I was strong, but you make me fucking weak, Sasha.”

His voice is anything but weak. It’s deep and hard and makes my whole body react, like every nerve ending is on fire.

From this close, I can see the bulge at his crotch. It’s huge, jumping visibly right before he drops to his knees before me. His big hands grip my hips so hard I know I’m going to be close to bruised there tomorrow.

He seems to realize it too and softens his grip, his thumbs sliding over my skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against my stomach. Water runs over both of us.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

I can tell he’s trying to keep what little shred of control he’s got left. But his breathing is hard, just like the rest of him.

“Because,” he growls, “I’m done pretending, Sasha.” He lifts my leg up and hooks it over his shoulder. “Now give me what I want.”

Then Griffin Kelly, as efficient as a well-oiled machine, goes right for the heart of me.

CHAPTER25

Griffin

Sasha cries out as my mouth hits her pussy. I don’t waste a fucking second. I draw my tongue directly over her clit.

Water sluices off her body, soaking my shirt.

I don’t notice any of it. I’m solely focused on one thing, and that’s the feel of her against my tongue. Fuck what I said I wouldn’t do. Fuck me keeping feelings out of this—this isn’t feelings. It’s just need. White-hot, blinding need.

I hook my tongue against her clit while I suck with my lips, knowing somewhere that I’m lying to myself when I deny I have any feelings.

Knowing here that I’m taking her with pure, selfish greed.

Her hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back as she rocks against me. She tastes like honey. Or flowers. Or something I can’t describe that drives me this close to letting myself go right here in my suit as I fuck her with my tongue.

“Griffin,” Sasha moans.

My name coming out of those perfect, delicate lips while I devour her is indescribable. Better than all the fantasies I tried so hard to shove aside.

All I want is to see her come. It’s all I pictured every time I stood in this shower, stroking my cock, her name on my lips. It’s the engineer in me, I think, needing to see exactly how she works; needing to know precisely what she needs to take her breath away.

But looking up at Sasha, I’m the one losing my breath. I wasn’t lying when I said she was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But from here? Fuck me. The slick wet slope of her stomach, the two oval moons of her tits above. Her face tipped back so all I can see is the long column of her throat and the tip of her chin.

Sasha cries out again, rocking her hips against my face. I reach up and clasp her jaw gently in my hand. It’s so small, so delicate under the brute width of my spread fingers.

She’s not there yet. I won’t let her come so easily. I pop off her clit long enough to tip her face down and say, “Look at me, Sasha.”

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