Page 28 of Seven Nights

A shuddering groan escapes me.

She rubs her chin across the crown of my head and begs, “Kiss me, Griffin.”

Another squeeze of her pussy has me certain my heart has ceased beating. Her sheath jerks up, ripping another moan from my throat. I seize her mouth, my thumbs prying at the corners to slide inside and hold her immobile as I ravage the wet cavern with my tongue and teeth. My strokes inside her cunt roughen. Her body responds with quick rolling contractions that chew my length.

Serving as bits, my thumbs keep her from speaking. I cannot allow her to tempt me into losing further control with pleas to free her hands or untie her legs. Her soft moans and exquisite flesh are temptation enough—for one wild second, I want her wrapped around me. Not just the tight, sweet pussy sucking at my cock, but her arms and legs, too.

But pets don’t get to touch. Pets don’t get to see.

Katelyn’s hips lift from the bed. Her cunt meets my hard strokes with her own desperate slaps. Sensing our bodies are at the sharp edge of release, I slide one hand down to her throat. The other I knot in her hair to hold the head immobile as I return to claiming her sweet mouth. My thumb strokes the underside of her chin as my fingers forcefully massage the side of her neck. I am not choking her, but the rhythmic squeezing sends warning signals along the vagus nerve to produce a mixed message of flee or fuck.

By the way her body moves, she is more into fucking than fleeing.

She slams up, teeth grinding, torso shaking. Another slam, straining to stay up, to press tightly to me while the muscles deep inside her milk my cock.

Unable to hold back any longer, Katelyn’s release rattles her bones. Her bound limbs twitch and jerk as her cunt swallows me deeper and deeper. Cum pulses from me, my cock throbbing and engorged with blood from the manic grasping and clutching of her sheath.

“Yes, Kate.”

I breathe the words into her mouth before kissing her again. My teeth pull her bottom lip taut as another spasm twitches through my cock and she contracts around me.

Too good. Too damn good.

Pets aren’t supposed to feel like this. Aren’t supposed to make me feel like this.

I grab Katelyn’s hips and hold her down until the pulse that pounds through her core dulls to a gentle flutter. I catch her expectant gaze as I pull out. Not wanting her looking at me in this moment of weakness or as I slip back into my pants, I drape a thick lock of her own hair across her face as a blindfold.

“Griffin?”

“Quiet,” I command, emotion distorting my voice.

Seeing her flinch, I soften my tone. “Don’t speak until I’m gone.”

I release her legs, my hands massaging the tired thighs and calves in complete silence until the muscles relax. Stooping to lightly kiss her mound, I release her left hand next, checking the fingertips for blood flow. I place her hand along her hip, warning her against trying to lift the veil of hair.

“Don’t move it.”

Katelyn trembles in silence.

I know why. She doesn’t want me to leave.

I don’t want to leave, either, but I have to. She can’t see me like this. Either she won’t trust me to stay in control and keep her safe, or she will think she owns me.

Releasing her other hand, my lips once again graze the gentle swell of her pussy as a thought strikes me dead center of my chest.

Katelyn Willow already owns me.

Katelyn

I listento the rustle of bedclothes and pajama bottoms as Griffin rises from the bed, quickly dresses and leaves the room. I remain motionless even after the door clicks shut behind him. If I keep the makeshift veil of hair across my eyes, I can pretend that he is still with me in the room, silently watching.

My bottom lip begins to quiver with emotions I don’t want to address. I suck it in. Sucking turns to biting. Biting fuels anger. Griffin has shut his desire off and walked out—again. I can’t count on him to stay and I won’t be so stupid as to ask him another time.

Mouth relaxing, I finally pull the hair away from my face. I smooth the muscles along my brow that are knotted into a disappointed furrow. With each rub, I underscore a silent vow to put a stop to all my stupidity where that man is concerned.

I won’t leave, but I’ll only stay the week. In that week, I will explore this unexpected part of me his attention has awakened. I will learn to turn the feelings on and off as he does. And, when I do, then I am done with Griffin and men like him forever.

Not that he will ask me to stay beyond the week, I remind myself. In researching him for the job interview, I read enough tabloids to understand a few things about the man. His homes and furnishings stay constant—his toys, whether flesh or mechanical, are ever changing objects. As much as I don’t want to be a toy, I sure as fuck won’t be a piece of furniture, either. So the kiss-off comes from him at the contract’s end, or I leave on my own regardless.

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