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He made another low noise. Then he gathered her in his arms again, dropped his face to her neck, and began to move.
First slow. Easy.
But every time she adapted, raising her hips to meet his thrusts, he changed the rhythm. Faster. Harder. Deeper.
It was too much. It was not enough.
She wrapped her legs around his waist again, not sure if she wanted more or if she wanted to hold herself together somehow, and he grunted his approval. And somehow that let her surrender all over again, losing herself in the building storm.
He found her breasts with his mouth, and still that pounding. That rattling, slick, intense thrust and retreat.
And the more she gave, the better it got.
Until eventually, everything began to tighten again. Everything focused on the place where they were joined, and it got wilder, and hotter, and too intense—
And she was suddenly afraid that whatever was coming for her, she couldn’t take. She couldn’t fight it. She couldn’tsurviveit.
“Melody,” Griffin said at her ear, his voice dark and wicked and beautiful. “Let it happen.”
And it was as if she was waiting for that. For him to make her feel safe again, even in this.
She felt the punch of it first, a wallop that should have made her cry. Or perhaps she was crying already, but she didn’t care, because her body was arching up into it. The rattle and the roll, the madness and glory rocked through her then.
Making her fall apart even as she was, for the first time in this searing heat, whole.
And still he pumped himself into her, thrust after thrust, until he roared out her name.
Then together they shook, and together they fell, and then, for a long while, there was nothing but breath.
And even that seemed near to impossible. Too much to bear.
The world crept back in. It felt aggressive.
Everything was different now. And yet, as far as Melody could tell, great swaths of the population ran around doing this all the time. So much and so often that they grew bored of it, or opted out, or any number of other things she hadn’t really understood when she’d read about them and certainly couldn’t imaginenow.
It was physically painful to remind herself that if even a tiny fraction of the stories told about Prince Griffin were true,hewent about doing exactly this the way some people brushed their hair or had a bath.
The world no longer felt aggressive. It was crushing.
“Well,” Melody said brightly, though he was still sprawled over her. She couldn’t tell which one of their hearts was pounding so hard it hurt, but she had a good idea. “Thank you. I was beginning to think I would die without ever understanding what sex was.”
Griffin shifted and once more she felt his hand on her face, brushing back her hair. She was tempted to imagine that was tenderness. She felt herself melt all over again.
But when he spoke, his voice was all condemnation. “You have no idea what sex is. That was a palate cleanser. Did I not tell you to hold on?”
“Yes, but—”
There was that laughter again, dangerous and wild. It swept over her, making her skin prickle. “We’re just getting started.”
And he was still so deep inside her, it was like they were one.
She didn’t mean to make the sound she did, something like surrender.
“I’m going to take you apart, Melody,” Griffin said softly, a kind of dark promise. And she could feel him grow even harder, again, deep in the clutch of her body. As if every part of her, inside and out, was his. “Lie by lie. Until I’m done.”
CHAPTER TEN
“HADIKNOWNwhat the process of exposing lies entailed,” Melody said some weeks later, “whether of omission or otherwise, I would have made it clear from the start that I was keeping things from you. The very first night, in fact.”
