Page 62 of A False Start
He pulls away for a moment. “You like this, Wildflower?”
I feel like I might finish to the sound of his voice alone, the slight burn of his cinnamon breath against my core.
“I love it.”
“Fucking right you do,” he says, before dropping his head back between my legs.
This filthy, confident side of him is new to me. It’s like it’s been lurking there under the surface, always dancing in his eyes. But now he’s brought it out to play, and I am so here for it.
Sex is familiar territory. This particular territory is better than any other I’ve explored, but it’s familiar all the same. Every nerve ending in my body is humming, coiling. Like they’re being stretched to the point they might snap.
To a point where I might come completely undone in a way that doesn’t feel familiar at all. He plays my body like an instrument. No one has mastered me this way.
And when he sucks hard on my clit while twisting his fingers into me, filling me so well, I come apart. I see stars.
“Griffin,” I cry out as my orgasm washes over me like a wave of hot water spilling over me, burning me. Every corner of my body heats, every toe curls, and my nails dig into his scalp, desperate to keep him in place.
His assault doesn’t stop. He pumps his fingers harder, his teeth graze my sensitive nub, and I go completely boneless under his attention.
“Fuck. That was hot.” He licks my seam once with a satisfied growl before pushing up to kneel and tower over me. He wipes his hand over his beard and then smiles down at me. Wickedly.
And I swoon. I swoon so fucking hard.
“You are so hot.” He fucked me stupid. That’s the only reason I would blurt something like that out.
The asshole just smirks. “Are you on birth control?”
“Yes.” I try to pull myself together, not wanting to sound like a love-drunk loon. “But we should probably call it quits there.” My eyelids are heavy. That was hands down the best orgasm of my life.
“Oh, yeah?” Griffin licks his lips, drawing my gaze to the way his tongue works across his skin.
“Yeah. I don’t think I can come any harder than that. It’s all downhill from here.”
His eyes flash. He looks like he’s ready to devour me. And a less reckless woman might quake under the intent in his gaze now.
Me? I just smile.
“Turn over. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”
My heart rate skyrockets, and I consider refusing just to see what he does. But the sight of his huge, thick cock bobbing between us is too tempting.
I roll over slowly, noting that even the brush of the slippery sleeping bag fabric against my skin feels good. As always, I can sense his gaze on me. I push up onto my knees and elbows and arch my back before I turn and look back at him over my shoulder.
“Like this?”
His eyes are on my ass, and the suggestive way I’ve presented it to him. He palms one globe, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Almost,” he growls, and then his knee is between mine, shoving them further apart, positioning me exactly how he wants me.
I shiver when the thick head of his cock rubs against my pussy. Teasing across my oversensitive clit. Making my head bow down in response. It’s almost too much.Toointense.
“Griffin.”
“Yes, Wildflower?” Another swipe, and then he notches the crown of his bare cock inside me for just a moment before withdrawing again.
The cruelest, most delicious type of torture.
“I don’t think I can come again. And that monster between your legs? I don’t think it’s going to fit.”
