I slid a hand between us, my thumb finding that perfect spot. Her cry was sharp, surprised, and her eyes went wide, pupils swallowing the color as she stared at me, coming undone while holding my gaze.
As her tremors subsided, I flipped her beneath me again, reclaiming control. I needed to be closer, needed to feel her completely. I hooked her knees over my elbows, opening her wider, sinking deeper. Her gasp was pure sensation, her nailsdigging into my shoulders. Each thrust was deeper, harder, but still pouring everything I felt into the connection.
“Griffin—” she breathed, her voice breaking.
I kissed her, swallowing her moans, our breath mingling. Her hands roamed my back, my shoulders. The intimacy of it was almost more than I could bear, this silent conversation of bodies, this language we spoke fluently without words.
When I felt her tightening around me again, her body coiling for another release, I slowed, drawing it out, making her wait. Her whimper was a protest, but I shook my head, my forehead resting against hers.
“Look at me,” I whispered. Her eyes, dazed with pleasure, found mine. “I’ve got you. You can give me another one, can’t you, gorgeous?”
She chewed her lip but nodded and I slammed into her. It didn’t take much before her back arched off the bed and she fell apart for the third time. This time, I couldn’t hold back any more and I followed her over the edge, burying myself as deep as I could, spilling into her with a strangled groan.
I collapsed on top of her, and buried my face in her neck. I stayed there, holding her, breathing her in, pressing my lips to her hair because it was all I could manage.
If I’d ever loved anyone, it was her. And if she didn’t know it yet, I’d spend the rest of my life trying to show her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
VIOLET
“You’re purring.”
I cracked one eye open, finding Griffin propped on his elbow beside me, hair still mussed from sleep, green eyes bright with amusement.
“Humans don’t purr,” I muttered, but my voice came out rough and satisfied in a way that probably proved his point.
He grinned. “Whatever you call it. You were making the little noises you make when you’re dreaming about me. Sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”
There was no way he knew if that was true or not. Still, heat flooded my cheeks.
“Griffin...”
“What? I’m just saying, if you’re going to deny it, maybe don’t sound so bloody satisfied when you wake up.” He pressed a kiss to my collarbone. “Makes a man want to hear it again.”
I shivered, my body already responding to his touch. “We should get up. Check on Hazel.”
“She’s with Cleo and Imani, remember? They’re not bringing her back until noon.” His lips curved against my skin. “That gives us...” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Three hours.”
“Three hours for what?”
“For me to make you scream my name again.” He nipped at my throat, and I gasped, arching into him. “And again. Until you admit you were dreaming about me.”
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“You love it.”
Love. The word made my skin prickle. I almost said it back, just to fill the silence, but the words stuck in my throat.
Griffin pulled back, studying my face. “Vi?”
“I’m fine.” I sat up, pulling the sheet with me. “I should shower. Get dressed.”
“Or,” he said, his hand sliding up my thigh, “you could stay exactly like this. I quite like you naked in my bed.”
“Your bed?”
“Our bed.” He smiled. “For as long as you want it.”
