His fingers found my clit, and I cried out in half pleasure, half surprise. He circled the sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs, once, twice, and then I was lost. My hipsmoved against his hand, seeking, demanding, my breath coming in ragged pants.
“You’re so wet for me,” he observed, his fingers sliding lower, teasing my entrance. “So ready.”
I was. I was more ready than I had ever been for anything in my life. The need was a like a living thing inside me, a desperate, clawing hunger that only he could satisfy.
“Please, Griff,” I begged again, my body arching against him. “Please.”
He answered not with words, but with action. He pushed one finger inside me and I gasped, my inner muscles clamping down on the intrusion, a sudden, aching stretch that was almost pain, but not quite.
It was just right.
Perfect.
Exactly what I needed.
“You’re so tight,” he growled, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “But you’ll take what I give you, won’t you?”
I nodded.
I would take anything he gave me.
He began to move that single digit. In and out. A slow drag that had me trembling, my breath catching in my throat. His thumb found my clit again, circling, pressing, and the hot desire within me built, winding tighter with every teasing caress.
“You’re going to come for me,” he commanded. “That way, you’ll never forget whichof us is alpha.”
I didn’t realize I was about to come until I was already coming.
My orgasm hit me, hot and heavy and poignant. My inner walls fluttered, clamping down over and over again on his finger. White-hot bliss pumped through me, making my fingers and toes curl. A desperate keening moan escaped me as my hips pumped back and forth and I bit my lip, trying to keep quiet and utterly failing. Pleasure washed through me, and a wave of liquid heat gushed from my core, slicking my thighs and soaking his hand.
He didn’t stop. He kept stroking me through it, drawing out the pleasure until the tremors from my orgasm finally quelled.
I sagged against him, spent. For a long moment, I couldn’t do anything but breathe, my head pillowed on his chest, the solid beat of his heart a steady rhythm in my ear.
He held me like that, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other still resting against my slick heat. His thumb stroked lazy circles over my hip, a touch that was both comforting and possessive. I took a deep breath, just breathing him in and grounding myself in his scent.
Then, without warning, the world tilted.
His arm tightened around my waist, lifting me up as he half-carried, half-dragged me a few feet to a fallen log slick with moss. He sat down, and for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me again, or maybe just hold me.
Instead, he dumped me face down over his knees.
The sudden movement sent a dizzying rush of blood to my head. My palms hit the damp earth on one side of the log, my bare legs flailing for a second before I found mybalance. My stomach pressed against the rough fabric of his trousers, and the position raised my ass high into the air.
Jesus Christ.
I was completely exposed.
The vulnerability sent an intense jolt of desire through me, followed quickly by a powerful spike of indignation.
“Griff,” I started, pushing up on my hands to try to get off his lap. “What the hell?—”
The question, and half of my breath, was knocked out of me by the first hard smack against my right ass cheek.
It wasn’t gentle.
And then he did it again.
His palm connected with the curve of my ass with a stinging crack that echoed in the quiet clearing. Pain blossomed across my backside, and I gasped, the scalding heat far more than I was prepared for.
