I glance up, my mouth still on her. “Not a bad way to go.”
She laughs, but then the laugh cuts off with a cry when I focus again. I slide two fingers inside her and watch them disappear into her heat before I start a slow, relentless pump while my mouth stays glued to her clit.
The sounds she makes are raw, guttural moans that vibrate against my tongue. I flick faster, my fingers curling, finding the spot that makes her toes curl into the sheets.
“Griffin, I’m—I can’t—”
“Do it,” I growl against her skin, my voice thick. “Come for me, Piper. Let me feel it.”
I increase the pressure, my tongue flicking rhythmically while my fingers drive deep. She’s sobbing now, her hips bucking helplessly against my face. Her muscles start to clamp down on my fingers, pulsing in tight, desperate waves.
Then she shatters.
She screams my name, her body rigid, her clit throbbing against my tongue as she comes in a long, violent rush. I don’t pull away. I stay right there, drinking her in, fisting her hips until the last of the tremors die down and she sinks back into the pillows, completely spent.
I press a kiss to her inner thigh, then her stomach, then her chest as I crawl back up beside her.
She’s still catching her breath, lips parted.
I brush her hair off her face.
Christ, she’s so fucking beautiful.
She stares at me like I just cracked something open inside her, and… maybe I did.
“Still think I didn’t have to?” I murmur.
She shakes her head, laughing under her breath. “No. No, I really needed that.”
I grin and lean in, kissing her slowly.
Her hands come up to cradle my face, but they don’t stay there long. She’s impatient, her fingers hooking into the hem of my T-shirt and yanking it upward. I sit back on my heels just enough to let her peel the fabric over my head and toss it blindly toward the floor.
Her hands drop to my waist, her breath hitching as she fumbles with the heavy metal buckle of my belt. She’s shaking, and I have to reach down to help her. Our fingers brush as I thumb the leather loose and shove my jeans and boxers down.
My body is already pulsing. It’s been building since the bar, since the moment she looked at me like I was something more than the man who helped her escape.
I lower myself over her, and her legs part for me like it’s instinct. Her heel digs into the back of my calf, anchoring me. Her fingers rake down my bare back, and when our bodies finally press fully together, skin to skin, she lets out a breath that sounds like relief.
I grind against her once, just a slow, heavy roll of my hips, and we both curse under our breath. The friction of her wetness against me is enough to make my head swim.
“I don’t have anything,” I say roughly, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. “Wasn’t exactly top of mind when I rescued a runaway bride.”
She laughs, breathless, her eyes dark with a hunger that matches mine. “Well, you should’ve planned better.”
“Yeah?” I murmur, brushing my nose against hers. “What kind of rescue missionwereyou hoping for?”
“The kind where I get absolutely wrecked in a shitty motel bed.”
I groan.
She grins, still flushed, still loose and beautiful beneath me. “I have an IUD,” she says. “But if you give me anything, I will kill you.”
I bark out a laugh, my forehead still pressed to hers. “Clean. Swear to God.”
“Good,” she whispers, her legs wrapping tighter around my waist, pulling my heat closer to her entrance.
That’s all it takes.
