Page 68 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“Bossy.” I loved his bossy side. I pulled off my top as he undressed.

His boots dropped with two distinct thuds on the carpet, followed by the plop of his jeans as he shoved them down his bulky legs. He stared at me as I stared at him, drinking in every single inch.

“You asked me if I’ve been with anyone,” he said. “I haven’t. Got checked up a few months ago.”

My mouth watered as he fisted his cock, giving it a hard pull. “I’m on the pill.”

“I want to fuck you bare, Winslow. But only if you’re good with it.”

Winslow. The name I’d always loved. It was a masculine name, but in his deep voice, it sounded so smooth and soft. If he kept calling me Winslow, it would be hard to let him go. “I’m good.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when he came at me, dragging me deeper into the bed. His mouth latched on to a nipple and my eyes drifted closed, my fingers threading through the dark strands of his hair.

He tormented me with that tongue, sucking at my breasts, licking across my skin, until my core was throbbing.

“More,” I whimpered.

He slipped his hand between us, trailing those calloused fingers down my belly. The heel of his palm pressed against my clit as two of those long fingers stroked through my wet folds, toying with me until I trembled.

“Griff.”

He nipped at my earlobe. “Do you want to come on my fingers or my cock?”

“Cock.”

His hand between us disappeared, then he was there, thrusting inside with one fast, skilled drive of his hips.

I cried out as I stretched around him, my nails clawing at the taut skin of his shoulder blades. “Oh, God.”

“Damn, you feel good.”

“Move, Griff. I need more.”

He obeyed, pulling out to slam back inside. Without the condom between us, I felt every. Single. Inch. Over and over, he brought us together until my limbs trembled and my back arched, my body giving in to the most intense orgasm of my life.

Stars burst behind my eyes. My nails tore into his shoulders. Tremors racked my body as I clenched around Griffin, unable to breathe. Unable to think. Unable to do anything but feel.

“Fuck, Winn,” he growled against my skin, his movements never slowing. He drew out my orgasm, pulse after pulse, until I finally came down. And then he let go to pour his own inside of me, coming on a roar that echoed through my house.

He collapsed on top of me, giving me his weight. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him for a moment before he spun us, keeping us connected as we shifted positions so I was draped over his chest. His arms never let me go.

Our hearts thundered together, each at different rhythms.

“It’s so good,” he said through panted breaths. “Every damn time. That should scare me.”

“Me too.”

But if it did, it wasn’t enough to make him leave. By the time darkness settled beyond the windows, he’d exhausted me thoroughly.

And for the first time in days, I slept through the night.

Chapter Twelve

Griffin

“Morning.” I bent to kiss Winn’s head, hesitating before my lips could touch her hair.

She wasn’t my girlfriend. Other than her passing out on my chest after sex, we didn’t cuddle. We didn’t hold hands or go on dates. This wasn’t the first time I’d gone to kiss her good morning or goodbye, only to remember that we’d put lines in place.