I don’t say it. I stand there in stubborn refusal. I practically screamed that I belonged to him in the stockroom but for some reason, sayinghebelongs tomewon’t leave my face. I’m refusing on principle at this point. We both know he’s right. I’m just too scared to admit it. I’m clinging desperately to the last bit of my rapidly crumbling defenses.
“You are the most goddamn maddenin’ woman I have ever fuckin’ met.” His hand on my jaw tightens, his eyes flashing with frustrated desire as he stares at me dumbfounded. “Why do you refuse to admit it? What are you scared of?”
“I’m not scared. It’s too fast.” I lie, it’s weak. But I don’t know what else to say.
“Bullshit,” he growls, low and feral, the sound vibrating against my chest as he presses me harder into the tile. The water streams between our bodies like a current trying, and failing, to put out the fire raging between us. “You’re scared because this means somethin’. It’s real. And that terrifies you more than Sokolov’s men ever could.” When he speaks again, it’s raw. “Let. Me. In.”
I shake my head and place my hands flat against his chest, pushing him back. He doesn’t budge. Not even a millimeter. He’s unmovable as stone and equally unrelenting.
“No,” He says with utter finality. “You don’t get to push me away every time it gets real.” His hand moves from my jaw to grip my wrist instead, pinning it firmly to his chest so I can feel the hammering of his heartbeat beneath my palm. “Feel that? That’s yours. I’m yours. And I’m not goin’ anywhere just ‘cause it scares you.”
Before I can respond, his lips are on mine. He’s kissing me like he’s drowning, like I’m the only thing in the world holding him together. His tongue slips into my mouth, hot and hungry and demanding. He pushes me harder against the shower wall, pressing his hard length against my stomach. He erases alldistance between us, leaving no space for anything but me. His grip on my wrist tightens as he pulls it above my head, his other hand skims up my arm, across my shoulder, and down my side like he’s desperate to feel every inch.
He breaks the kiss only to trail hot, wet kisses down the side of my throat. Lips, teeth, and tongue burning into my skin. His hands slide down over the wet curve of my hip, cupping the back of my thigh and pulling, hoisting me up so that he can fit tighter between them. His lips trail lower, claiming the hollow of my throat with a bite that’s barely shy of too hard.
“Say it.” The words are rough against my collarbone. His grip tightens on my thigh. “I want to hear you say it while I’m buried inside you. While you can’t lie about what this is to you.”
He lifts me up, pressing my back into the tile, supporting my weight on his thighs. His hand drags down between our bodies, slow and deliberate. My head falls back, my hips jerking forward as his fingers start to brush over my clit.
“Fuck.” I moan the word.
“Still wanna pretend you don’t own me?” He smirks, dark, satisfied, and a bit smug. His fingers move with expert precision, teasing circles that make my legs tremble. “Still think this is just about sex?” His thumb presses down harder, enough to have me arching into him with another broken noise. The water cascades over both of us like a second caress, but nothing compares to the heat of his touch.
When his fingers slip inside, I have to hold on to him to steady myself so I don’t feel like I’m falling. “Griffin.” His name is pulled from my lips like a strangled plea.
The deep rumble of his laughter vibrates against my damp skin, his fingers curl wickedly, hitting that spot inside me with merciless precision.
“Say the words, Wildflower.” His other hand grips my hip harder now, holding me still as he fucks me on his fingersrelentlessly. Neither of us notice the spray of the shower anymore. His lips find mine again in a bruising kiss before pulling back to whisper against them. “Tell me I’m yours and I’ll show you what happens when you’re mine.”
“You’re—” I’m cut off by another low moan. I bite my lip as my hips move in rhythm with his fingers.
“Don’t stop now. Not when we’re this close.” His fingers speed up with firm strokes that leave me no choice but to chase the pleasure he’s giving me. “Say it,” he commands. “Or I stop right now.”
I whimper and my fingernails dig indentions into his shoulders. “You’re,” I cry out again, clenching around his fingers as I get close. “Fuck! You’re mine!”
“Good girl.”
It’s the only warning before he’s pulling away and leaving me empty and trembling against the shower wall. He grabs my chin forcing me to look at him. His eyes are dark and molten, a dangerous edge to them as his thumb trails over the curve of my bottom lip, pulling lightly on my lip ring.
“Say it again,” he commands with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “And I’ll finish what I started.”
“You’re mine. You’re my boyfriend,” I respond defeated and wanting.
A low, victorious growl rumbles from his chest as he claims my lips again in a searing kiss. Then he’s bending down out of the shower and grabbing a condom from his discarded pants. The foil wrapper tears between his teeth and he’s rolling it on before he turns back to me. His hands slide down my back to grip my ass, hauling me up against him with one swift motion before pressing me back into the tile.
“That’s right,” he rasps against the shell of my ear. “And don’t you ever forget it.”
Then he’s sinking into me in one deep thrust, cutting off any other protests. His fingers dig into my hips as he moves, hard and possessive and perfectly ruthless.
“You can feel that can’t you?” he whispers as he leans forward to trail hot kisses across my shoulder. “You can feel how much I want you?”
“Yes,” I whine out, my forehead pressed against his shoulder, my arms wrapped tightly around him. He drives into me with slow, deep thrusts that make my toes curl.
“Good. Because I want you to remember this every time you think about pretendin’ we’re not somethin’.” A sharp snap of his hips punctuates the words. “Every time some bastard looks at you and thinks he’s got a shot? I want you to remember what yours sounds like when it comes out of your mouth.” His rhythm breaks into something rougher, our bodies run hotter than the water. “When you get yourself off in the middle of the night, thinkin’ about me, I want you to remember that you’re not goin’ to get the job done. That you’ll be left wantin’.”
Thrust.
“Needin’.”
