Page 73 of A False Start
“I’ll give you all my right nows, Nadia. Every fucking last one. I’ll give you anything you want. I’ve been powerless since the first time I laid eyes on you.” His deep voice, what he’s just professed, sends gooseflesh racing over my body even though I’m warm in the cradle of his arms, and when his lips press against mine, every fear melts away.
He kisses me like he did that night. Not desperately, not roughly—reverently. He kisses me how I know I deserve to be kissed. The comforting rasp of his beard on my face sends a low throb between my legs and the soft swipe of his tongue against my own has me whimpering and turning to putty in his hands. Like my body knows that the two of us together are just right.
“That noise. You have no idea what that noise does to me.”
“What noise?” I whisper right as he presses me up against the doorframe and takes my mouth again, his tongue teasing mine with just the right amount of pressure as his fingers push a lock of hair back behind my ear. His touch lingers, and I whimper.
“Thatnoise. Fuck this.” He pulls away, taking me in with furrowed brows. “You’remine, Wildflower.”
He hoists me up, and my legs instantly wrap around his waist as he kicks the door closed behind us and carries me further into his house. I giggle in surprise and clamp on to him, loving the feel of his hands on my ass and those words on his lips.
Mine.
No one has ever said that to me before. No one has ever made me feel wanted the way Griffin does—wanted in the most complete way.
“Say it again.”
He storms across the little bungalow toward what I’m certain must be a bedroom. His eyes flash up to mine, the curtain of my blonde hair between us making me feel like we’re in some private bubble.
“Mine.” He growls and kisses me just beside my lips as he strides into the bedroom. He tosses me down onto the king-sized bed before standing over my body, looking over me like he’s a conqueror and I’m land that’s ripe for the taking.
The pure desire in his eyes takes my breath away, especially when they flash with possessiveness as he says, “You got that? You. Are. Mine.”
I nod eagerly, speechless, as he undresses, dropping his shorts to the floor. The room is lit by two bedside lamps, and I have a far more generous view of him than I had last night. Every hard line is more exaggerated as the light plays out across his mouth-watering body.
His body isperfect.Bulky in all the right spots, his calloused hands a result of how hard he works, the fine lines beside his eyes a testament to days when he might have laughed more.
I want to make him laugh more.
Within moments, he stands naked before me, in many ways. He’s shed his clothes, but he’s shed so much more. His insecurities, his restraint, he’s completely undone all for me.
He tugs at the ankles of my leggings, but his eyes never leave mine. He looks at me so closely that I almost can’t stand it. Like he sees every insecure corner and still wants to make me his.
“Prove it,” I say. My tongue whips out across my bottom lip, and a fountain of nerves bubble up within me as he tosses my leggings away. “If I’m yours, prove it.” I tip my chin up, not wanting to appear as vulnerable as I feel.
He falls to his knees at the end of the bed, letting his gaze move between my legs as his fingers grip my inner thighs and spreads me wide. “I thought we’d been over you not telling me what to do?”
“Really? I don’t recall—”
The movement is quick, but unmistakable. I gasp. The burn that follows is unfamiliar but not at all unwelcome. I push up on my elbows, panting. “Did you just slap my pussy?”
The look he gives me from beneath a crooked brow is completely devilish and so fucking hot. “This?” He takes two fingers and twists them into me, torturously slow, and my head falls back. “Is mine.”
I whimper right as his lips follow his fingers. He’s slow and intentional, every thrust, every kiss to my inner thighs. It’s the perfect symphony composed to drive me insane.
“Please.” I moan.
He pauses only to press a kiss to my knee and ask, “Please what?”
“Please...” I trail off.Fuck me,is what was at the tip of my tongue. But saying that right now feels wrong, and yet I can’t bring myself to say the other thing. I’ve put too much of myself out there tonight already. I’m not ready to give this that type of label yet.
“Please...” My mind races. Please what? The kisses he’s trailing up my inner thigh while he waits for me to find my words are so goddamn distracting. “Show me what gentle is like.”
His fingers flutter against my skin as he pauses, lips on me, and my heart aches with the confession. That I just want someone to hold me, to use their hands on me with something other than anger or messy, crazed lust.
“Anything you want, Wildflower,” he murmurs as he works his way up my body, taking my sweatshirt with him as he goes, peeling back the layers until all that’s left is him and me. Bared to each other. His eyes tell me as much, all traces of his growly indifference erased.
He kisses my stomach. “Mine.” He kisses my sternum. “Mine.” He kisses my temple. “Mine.” And then he holds me.
