His breath hitches when my knuckles brush against him through the fabric.
“Fuck,” he moans softly, and I shift backward until my head hits the pillow.
He kicks off his jeans and follows, settling beside me this time instead of on top, his hand splayed possessively across my stomach.
Griffin's fingers trace lazy patterns on my hip bone, each touch sending sparks of heat through me.
“Tell me what you want,” he says quietly, lips brushing my ear.
I turn my head to meet his gaze, finding nothing but raw desire and genuine curiosity there. My throat goes dry.
“I want you to take me apart,” I admit, the words tumbling out before I can second guess them. “I want your moutheverywhere. I want to feel you inside me until I forget my own name.”
Griffin groans and closes his eyes, his hips shifting until his shaft rubs against my hip through his boxers. “Not tonight. We can't...not tonight. When I fuck you, I want to hear you moan for me but Hughie is here and we need to be quiet.”
The restraint in his voice only makes me want him more. I reach down and wrap my hand around both of us through the thin fabric separating our bodies, stroking slowly. Griffin's jaw clenches and he buries his face against my neck to muffle the sound that escapes him.
“Then give me what you can,” I whisper back, squeezing just enough to make him shudder. “Touch me. Use your hands, your mouth. Make me come so hard I have to bite down on something to stay silent.”
Griffin captures my wrist and pins it above my head in one swift movement, his grip firm but not painful.
“You want something to bite down on?” he asks, his free hand sliding down to hook into the waistband of my boxers. He tugs them down just enough to free me, and the cool air makes me gasp.
Before I can answer, he's kissing me again, deep and possessive, swallowing any sound I might make. His hand wraps around me properly now, skin on skin, and the sensation is almost too much.
He strokes with confidence, his thumb sweeping over the head in a way that makes my toes curl. I try to reach for him but he keeps my wrist pinned, controlling the pace, controlling me.
“Stay quiet,” he commands against my lips, and then his mouth is moving lower, teeth grazing my collarbone, tongue tracing the hollow of my throat. When he takes my nipple between his teeth I have to turn my face into the pillow to keep from crying out.
Griffin's hand works me with maddening precision, each stroke building the tension coiling low in my belly. When his tongue flicks over my other nipple, my control snaps. I surge up and sink my teeth into the curve of his shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but enough to leave a mark, to claim him the way he's claiming me.
He freezes for a heartbeat, then releases a low, guttural sound that vibrates through both our bodies.
“Fuck,” he rasps, his rhythm faltering before he regains it with renewed intensity.
His mouth finds mine again, kissing me like he's trying to consume me whole. I can taste the salt of his skin on my tongue, feel the tremor running through his muscles as he fights to keep his own composure. His free hand slides beneath me, gripping my ass and angling my hips up so he can grind against me while he strokes. The dual sensation pushes me closer to the edge.
His name falls from my lips like a prayer, barely audible but desperate. “Griffin.”
He shudders at the sound, his grip tightening on me as his forehead drops to rest against mine. Our breathing mingles in the narrow space between us, ragged and uneven.
“Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough with need. His hand moves faster now, twisting on the upstroke in a way that makes white spots dance behind my eyelids.
I obey, whispering his name over and over, each repetition bringing me closer to unraveling completely. His own control is slipping; I can see it in the tension of his jaw, feel it in the way his hips rock against my thigh seeking friction.
“I want to see you fall apart for me,” he murmurs, and the hunger in his eyes is almost as devastating as his touch.
Griffin pulls his hand from my hard cock and I whimper in protest before moaning when he lowers his own boxers and his cock springs free. Fuck, he is thick and long, slightly curved andveiny. He’s so fucking perfect that I am close fucking drooling over the sight of him.
He smirks before spitting directly into his palm. It's so filthy and erotic that I moan again. Then he reaches between us and grabs us both in his now slick palm.
The pressure of his hand gripping us together steals the breath from my lungs. I can feel every ridge and vein of him sliding against me, slick and hot, and it's almost too much. My hips jerk forward instinctively, seeking more friction.
“Please,” I gasp out, not even caring how desperate I sound. “Griffin, I need... God, please don't stop.”
He tightens his grip just slightly and I nearly come apart right then.
“You want more?” Griffin's voice drops to a rough whisper against my ear, his breath hot on my skin. “Want me to stroke us both until you're shaking? Until you can't remember your own name?”
