Digging the heel of my free leg into the mattress, desperate for leverage to get closer, I stare down at the man who’s changed my life in so many ways in only a few days. His hair falls over his forehead, but every few seconds, he flicks his gaze to mine, and though I can’t see his lips, his eyes give him away. He’s smiling.
I don’t think—can’t with all the amazing sensations taking over my body—and wrap my fingers around his forearm. The second I touch him, his head snaps up, lips glistening with my arousal. “I’ll stop,” he says, but I shake my head.
“No. I…” How do I explain what I needed and why when my mind is drunk on what he’s doing to me. “I need to hold on to you. Don’t stop.”
My voice isn’t steady, but the feel of his forearm muscles shifting under my hand is the extra connection I was craving, and I nod, my lips tugging up at the corners despite my complete inability to catch my breath.
When he returns to whatever magical thing he was doing with his tongue—somewhere in the back of my mind, I swear there’s a pattern, but hell if I care to figure it out—my body catches fire. The ball of need in my core grows, spreading to my limbs, my chest…everywhere.
Time stops. The rest of the world falls away, and I keep my gaze locked on his. I’m terrified and thrilled at the same time until my core clenches so hard, it takes over my entire body. My whimpers turn into a moan, and then there’s nothing but blinding light, a dull roar in my ears, and waves of pleasure.
* * *
Griff
I feel the moment she lets go, and my God, she’s beautiful. Drinking her in, slowing the letters I’m tracing on her clit, the ones that spell out the three words I long to say to her, I treasure the gift she gives me.
Not her release, though I’ll never forget how she looked, sounded, tasted…
Her trust. After so many men hurt her, after almost two decades with her heart under lock and key, she’s so open with me, it’s staggering.
Her chest heaves with each breath, and she’s trembling. The ache from my dick spreads all the way to my balls, but I manage to extricate myself from between her thighs so I can pull her against me under the covers.
“You were—you are—so beautiful.” Kissing the top of her head, I settle her with her leg draped over me. In this position, I can’t see her lips or her face, but after a few moments, a tear hits my chest, and I tense.
“Did I hurt you, sweetheart? Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”
Sloane lifts her head, her eyes unfocused, and a lazy, contented smile gracing her lips. “You were…that was…wow.”
It feels so natural to laugh with this woman. Like we’ve shared these moments for years, not days.
“We should get some sleep.” Carding my fingers through her hair, I try to memorize everything about this night. Her taste. The feel of each sound she made as her entire body vibrated. The way she coiled so tight, ready to fly, and the arch of her back as she finally let go.
“No.” This time when I meet her gaze, those brown eyes are clear, determined. “I want all of you, Griff. Or…I want to try. Please. Don’t leave me wondering what it would feel like with you inside me.”
Fuck. She’s not a virgin. I know that. But this is still her first time. What if I hurt her? What if I can’t balance myself over her? My left arm and shoulder ache, and dammit. If they’d been able to save more of my arm, I’d take this metal monstrosity off. I don’t want her to see it.Idon’t want to see it. But I need it, and that’s killing me.
Holding her hasn’t lessened my desire—or my hard on—in the least so I’m ready for more, but is she? Truly?
Our gazes collide again, and the gut punch of raw need hits me hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. The only sound I can make when her delicate fingers stroke over my dick is a strangled groan.
“Is this okay?” she asks. A tiny frown deepens between her brows, and she starts chewing on her lip.
“Sloane, there’s nothing you could do to me that would be anything but.”
Covering her hand with my prosthetic fingers, I feel her warmth as she continues to touch me. After the barest skim of her palm over my crown, she sucks in a sharp breath.
Sloane stares down at her hand, her eyes fixed on the glistening precum with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
“Kiss me, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. We can stop—”
She doesn’t listen to me, just brings her hand to her lips and tastes me.
I’ve never been so turned on in my life. Her nerves fade away in an instant, and she sighs, the corners of her mouth tugging into a shy smile.
“I didn’t know if I could…”
In my silent world, a shout and a whisper look much the same, but the way her shoulders curve, the soft and slow movement of her lips—I think she meant those words for her—not for me.
