Griffin slides his hands into his pants pockets, and it makes the button widen a little so I can see just a sliver more of his skin. “What things?” he asks conversationally.
I push off the couch and walk closer until I’ve closed the distance between us. He’s peering down at me, and no matter what his tone may indicate, his eyes say so much more. His pupils are large, and he’s watching me as if he may pounce at any moment. I lift my hand and slowly trace my fingertips over his bare chest. “A shower, laundry.” I shrug and spin on my heel, preparing to walk away from him. He’s not the only one that can tease.
I don’t make it far though. Griffin grabs my waist and hauls me back against his chest. He lowers his face so he’s nuzzling the side of my neck. I’ve learned several things about Griffin Stone. He’s an observer, especially when it’s not just the three of us. He rarely speaks to anyone unless it’s unavoidable, but again, the same rules don’t apply to Evan or me. He’s tactile, likes touching me often and holding my hand. And the newest thing I’ve learned is how much he favors the spot on my body where he bit me.
I don’t know if his lips can always find the exact spot, or if every place he touches flares to life under his lips. Griffin runs his tongue up the side of my throat, and my knees get frigging weak in response. Thank goodness for ponytails.
“Is that all you want, Quinn?” His breath curls around the back of my ear.
“Are you offering me more than lunch, Griffin?”
He spins me so I’m facing him. The quick shift leaves me feeling a little unsteady, but he’s there to catch me. Griffin lifts my arms and wraps them over his shoulders, then slides his hands down to my ass and picks me up. It’s sexy as hell. I cling to his neck and wrap my legs around his waist as he starts walking, bypassing the living room.
My mouth is just above his, so when he starts speaking, it’s against my lips. “I wanted to feed you so when I was fucking you, I could be at your vein too.”
“I’m good with that.”
“Not if you haven’t eaten since yesterday. I didn’t even get you anything to drink today,” he growls as if he’s chastising himself.
“I thought we went over this. I’m a big girl, I can fend for myself.”
Griffin reaches the bedroom, but instead of dropping me on the bed, he plants his hand on the mattress and climbs in with me holding onto him. When he lowers me to the sheets, I realize I’m yet again in his bed with far too many clothes on.
“You might need to stop toting me around like an accessory. I’m not letting you ruin these clothes too.”
“I have far more patience than that.” Griffin rocks forward until his hips grind against mine. I let out a small huff of air, thinking maybe I’m willing to let him wreck the clothes after all. I run my fingertips over his back. Griffin shifts and rolls his shoulders, allowing me to feel the way his muscles tighten and bunch under my touch. I dated a few athletes in college, but Griffin’s body is ridiculous in its perfection.
Griffin lowers his head until his lips are just brushing against mine. Our eyes are locked, and it’s probably one of the most intimate moments we’ve shared. There’s no teasing or anger, it’s just the two of us breathing each other in.
He starts nibbling my lips with pillow soft kisses. My eyes fall closed as I return his caresses. My hands are all over him, reaching for every inch of skin I can find. With every second that passes, our kisses grow more urgent, more needy. Griffin slides his hand up my shirt and palms my breast. I arch into his touch as much as I can with him over me.
He breaks the kiss, and I’m left damn near panting. He lowers himself, kissing his way down my neck and caressing my breast over my bra. He continues on his path until he’s near my waist. I lift my head and peer down at him. Those turquoise eyes are watching me, gleaming wildly with intent.
Griffin uses his hand to push up my shirt. I raise my arms when he makes it clear his objective is to get my shirt off. I tug it over my head and leave it near the top of the bed. My bra is simple and black, and the cups are sheer enough that I know he’ll be able to see my nipples, but I hope he’s planning on taking it off too.
He takes his time looking me over, scanning every inch of exposed flesh as if it’s the first time he’s seen me. I reach behind my back and struggle with the latch. The shift brings my torso up, and Griffin starts kissing my stomach as if he can’t help himself. When I get the back undone, I settle against the bed and drag my bra down my arms, tossing it to the side with my shirt.
Griffin observes me hungrily and makes his way up until his mouth is over my breast. He blows a cool breath over my hardened nipple and watches as my body reacts. He makes a soft sound of approval, then lowers his lips to lick and suck. My back lifts off the bed, and he brings his other hand up to caress my free nipple. Every tug and pinch sends a wave of desire through my belly until I’m writhing beneath him. My hands are in his dark hair, urging him to keep going.
When my hips grow too persistent, he skims his hand down my body and lifts his torso so he can slide his fingers between our bodies. A disappointed sigh falls from my lips, and Griffin bites my nipple just hard enough to have me holding my breath. When he releases me from his mouth and pulls away, I look down but realize he didn’t break the skin. I think I’m kind of disappointed.
He continues kissing his way down my body until he reaches the waistband of my pants. I lift my hips in an invitation for him to remove them. Having his gorgeous face that close to where I want him is giving me all kinds of ideas of what he could do with that devilish mouth of his and where he might be able to bite me.
I let my head fall back to the bed. God, I remember when Angie told me about a vampire she dated who would pierce her clit with his fang to feed. I shooed her and her story away, thinking she was joking or just crazy, but now I wish I would have listened to the rest of her story. It doesn’t seem so scary now, especially after knowing the pleasure that came with Griffin’s bite last night. Are vampire kisses enough to make you bite drunk? I’m feeling very uninhibited.
Griffin unbuttons my pants and drags them down, leaving my yellow panties behind. No matching set today. I was rushing when I got dressed this morning. I miss the feeling of him against my skin when he leans away to pull my pants all the way off. After pitching them to the side, he trails his hands up the inside of each of my inner thighs until he’s past my knees, and then he spreads my legs. His intent is pretty clear when he lowers himself to the bed with his face between my thighs. I have the urge to close myself off from him.
As much as I was thinking about him licking me, it was more of an idea than an expectation. The only guy I ever dated who did that was Brad, and we had been together for months before he went down on me.
“Uhm.” I scoot up the bed a little, but Griffin grabs my hips and jerks me back down so his nose is nearly buried in my panties.
“What?” he growls at me.
“You don’t have to…” I can’t say the rest.
“Have to?” He looks up at me with narrow eyes, and I almost giggle at the absurdity of it, but that would just be my nerves. “Please don’t tell me you don’t want me to lick your pussy, I think I would fucking cry.”
I can’t help but let out a little chortle. He looks dead serious. “It’s so crucial you’re going to cry?”
