Without another word, his hips drew back and he pumped back inside me. Burying his face in my nape, he bit at it, gently at first, then harder. The man had the audacity to grin against my flesh when I cried out softly and began to squirm.
One of his hands began tugging up my shirt, baring my breasts, the material of his shirt chafing my nipples, until they were tight, aching buds.
Plucking at my nipple, slipping it between his fingers to gently pinch and tease me as his hips slammed home more forcefully, he made sure I felt every inch of him, as if my pleasure was his own.
“No, you don’t,” he muttered suddenly, when I thought I heard a door slam closed in the distance.
“What are- Ah! Greniv!”
Releasing my nipple to slide his hand over my back and upward, long fingers curving over my shoulder, digging in, he held me in place, leaving me utterly at his mercy. Sitting up at little, staring down at me, directly into my eyes, he began to pound into me, hips pistoning, hammering, angling so he rubbed my clit with every pass. “Come for me, my mate,” he ordered, our bodies grinding, hips pressing, his eyes never leaving mine as my pleasure rose, crested.
A guttural noise left him, his eyes shifting, as he too found his own.
Releasing my leg, gathering me up in his arms, I wrapped my legs around his waist in anticipation of him lifting me, taking his time so as not to break our connection, he turned to stumble his way down the hall.
“I’m going to break your back,” I said on a laugh.
“It’ll be worth it,” he chuckled at my mock affront, “then you can cart me around,” he teased, then winked.
“Where are you taking me?” Instead of looking around, I began nibbling at his earlobe.
“Isn’t it obvious?” One of his hands slid to my ass, grabbing a handful of cheek and squeezing.
“The shower?” I guessed.
A soft tsking sound left him and he released the handful he had to give me a playful tap. “My lair, woman. What kind of assistant to the evil overlord mastermind are you?”
“One who should probably read more comics so I know what on earth you’re talking about if I’m going to spend time with you?”
“If?” A grumble rattled Gren’s chest, making me giggle. “If you’re to spend time with me? If?”
We were in his bedroom now, almost to the bed.
Pulling back to meet his scowling gaze, I arched an eyebrow at him. “Sweetheart, did I stutter?”
Gren barked out a laugh. “Okay,” he burst out, grinning like a very hungry caterpillar about to attack a yummy snack, “that’s it! You’re gonna pay for that!”
“Wait. Pay for what?! I didn’t- Ack! Gren! I’ll be late! For work! We can’t! You can’t torture the assistant to the evil overlord mastermind! It’s… It’s in the handbook!” I got out between chortles as he dropped forward, sending us free falling onto the bed.
Bouncing slightly as we landed, sliding his thighs up behind mine, he grinned down at me as he loomed over me. Sobering slightly, his expression softened momentarily. “Aster Marsh, you are absolutely perfect for me. I’m going to prove it to you, just how much I’ve quickly fallen for you.”
“Oh, Gren, I-”
Gren bent, sealing his lips over mine, eating the words on the tip of my tongue, about to slip free.
Soon the bed was creaking, soft groans and moans renting the air. Not much talking was had, though our body language spoke volumes.
Chapter 17
Gren
Teeth brushed, freshly showered and dressed, bed made, Aster headed off to her place to change before work, I was still humming from that last send off kiss we’d shared by her car. Or should I say, pressed against it.
A long, happy sigh left me. I couldn't wait until we moved in together. I wanted to be near her, always.
Whistling as I tidied up the house, wondering just how long was long enough before I began to heckle my sweet flower as to when I’d get to see her next, I felt light, happy. Gathering up the kitchen trash, I walked out the back door. Dumping the trash into the bin, I smirked as I walked past the three fools trapped in the garden gate vines. “Should have called first,” I sang as I strode past. I’d release them in a minute. Maybe.
I was sure if he could, were he capable of opening his eye, the Cyclops covered in vines, held in place like a pinned bug on display, would have laser-eyed his way through his ties.
