Page 155 of Love Felt Like This

I sit up on my elbows. “What are you doing?”

He looks up. His long hair is a mess, sticking out at odd ends from where my hands ran through it.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

He places a teasing kiss right at my knee.

I let out a soft laugh. “That. That right there.”

“This?” he asks with a sly smile, taking the fabric in his teeth and moving it aside so that the hem of my dress is hiked up my thighs.

I swallow. “You don’t have to…y’know. Do that. It’s just…I would understand if you didn’t want to.”

He narrows his eyes, as if searching me for answers. It crosses my mind at probably the same time he realizes it too.

“I’m not…used to it,” I say. “So you don’t have to.”

Griffin huffs out a chuckle. “I think I do, actually.”

He stares at me for a moment, long enough for me to finally breathe out, “Okay.”

I trust you.

Griffin gives the most wicked smirk and kisses my knee once more. I expect him to disappear under my skirt, but with each subsequent press of his lips up my thigh, he bunches the dress up with him. I can see every single sensual kiss.

My heart pounds harder the closer he gets to the center of my legs. Nerves spark under my skin, zipping around like a caged bird waiting for its release.

Finally, Griffin’s warm breath heats against me, he nudges my underwear aside, and his tongue touches between my legs. And I can see everything—the way his eyes close in bliss, how he pulls in a heady breath, and the moment his eyes flick open and meet mine.

My head falls back on the mattress. I grip the sheets beside me, steadying myself as he plants kisses over and over, just as he did against my mouth a few minutes ago.

Slowly and deliberately.

His forearms—veined with twisting vines and flora—snake out and band over my hips, holding me in place. Each roll of his tongue is another stroke of pleasure. Each touch coaxes my hips to buck up before he pushes them back down.

Long, gentle strokes turn quicker.

Pleasure becomes a tide rising, rising, rising.

Heat catches in my chest.

Breath chokes in my throat.

Until the crest peaks at my stomach and I’m crashing to the other side.

Crashing. Burning. Dying and being reborn.

Who knows?

Who fucking cares?

I’ve orgasmed before, don’t get me wrong, but that—that—

Griffin kisses my inner thighs as he leans back, but I’m already reaching for his shoulders, pulling him to meet me. He crawls over my body with his massive arms on either side of my waist. I fumble for his belt, dipping my thumb in the loops and then releasing it with clanks and rattles.

He watches as I undo his pants button and push them down. And he swallows with a low groan as I pull down his tight boxers next. I don’t see what’s underneath, but I don’t need to. I know how he felt at the award show.

And suddenly, this night feels so real. Intense.