It’s wild.
We stumble toward the bed. Her fingers slide into my hair as she nips my lower lip between her teeth. I swear to God, I almost black out.
I’m losing myself in her, for her, because of her.
I lower her onto the bed and follow her down, but instead of kissing her again, I slow down. I press my hands to her ribs, feeling the quick rise and fall of her chest.
Her eyes flicker open, confused.
I kiss her jaw, then her throat, then lower, tracing the line of her collarbone with my mouth. Her breath catches as I slip my hand beneath her shirt, feeling her soft, warm skin before Ipush it up. She lifts just enough to let me take it off and toss it somewhere behind me. She’s half-naked, hair wild against the motel pillows, flushed and watching me with something that looks like disbelief.
“Hey,” I murmur, pressing a kiss between her ribs. “Relax.”
“I just…” She lets out a shaky laugh. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
She stills.
It takes her a second to say, “Ezra never—he didn’t like it.”
I freeze for a second, then look up at her, hand still resting on her hip.
“That’s a damn shame.”
Her eyes go glassy as a slow flush rises up her chest. When I press my mouth lower, she finally exhales.
I use my tongue to trace the lace of her bra before I finally unhook the back. Her breasts spill out, and I take one into my mouth, sucking the nipple. She whimpers, her back arching off the mattress.
“Griffin, please,” she begs.
She’s still in her jeans, so I undo the button with a flick of my thumb. Her hand is over her mouth like she doesn’t trust the sounds she might make.
“Don’t do that,” I murmur. “I want to hear you.”
She drops her hand.
I kiss down her stomach, unzip her jeans, and watch her hips rise as I slide them off, taking her underwear with them. She’s flushed all over now, blinking up at the ceiling like she can’t quite believe this is happening.
Neither can I.
Because I’ve never wanted someone like this. Never wanted togivethis much. Not just lust, though there’s plenty of that, but something deeper. Something I don’t know how to name.
I spread her knees wide, settling myself into the notch of her thighs. I use my thumbs to part her, exposing the slick heat.
When my tongue finally finds her clit, her whole body jerks like I’ve hit her with a live wire.
“Griffin!” she cries, her hands flying to the headboard.
I swirl my tongue, then take the tiny, swollen bud between my lips and suck.
Wrapping my arm around her hips, I hold her steady as her fingers fist the sheets. I take my time, learning every reaction, every twitch, every breathless sound she makes. She’s quiet at first, like she’s unsure if she’s allowed this.
But when she finally lets go, when she moans and says my name like it’s the only thing she knows, I nearly lose my mind.
She’s trembling, but her hands are in my hair, and her body is arching.
“Jesus,” she gasps. “I think this is how I die.”
