Griffin’s teeth graze my neck. He nips my shoulder and then growls against my skin, “Where do you belong?”
I squirm when his tongue trails over the spot he just bit. I know what he wants to hear. I don’t give it to him yet. I’m just insane enough to want to prolong this sensual torture. “I belong…here?”
Griffin lifts his face from my neck, his stubble a delicious scrape against my nape. A deep rumble is my only warning before he slaps my ass again like he means it.
I gasp, shooting forward. Something clenches deep down, flooding me with wet heat. Griffin stretches me up to my full height, extending my arms above my head. Bracing his forearm against the wall to help carry my weight, he pulls, and my heels leave the floor.
I make a strangled sound. My arms ache, my ass smarts, and by Gods I’m about to explode!
“Wrong answer.” He cages me, and his thick shaft presses against my backside. He circles my thigh with his hand and then lifts my leg, hooking his free arm under my knee and leaving me spread open and pivoting on the ball of one foot. I don’t worry about falling. I’m too focused on the hot, blunt tip of Griffin’s erection as he lifts me even higher and slides it between my legs. He slowly thrusts, guiding his iron hardness through my slick folds and then right over my most sensitive spot. I forget to breathe.
“Where do you belong?” He thrusts again, the slow friction driving me wild.
“Oh my Gods…” I moan when he spreads me wider.
“Wrong answer.”
“So spank me,” I pant. And I mean that in whatever sense.
His chuckle is dark and thick, like a hot summer night. It makes me want to lick salt and sunshine from his tanned skin and worship his sculpted body with my mouth.
Griffin positions himself at my entrance. I’m so wet and ready that the head of his shaft slips right in, and we both shudder from the shallow joining.
The deep groan expanding in Griffin’s chest resonates against my back. A bead of sweat drips onto my shoulder. He’s as tortured as I am.
I turn my head. Heated silver eyes meet mine. They reach inside me and yank out my soul. If it weren’t already Griffin’s, he’d have captured it all over again.
“I love you.” The words spring straight from my heart. I couldn’t stop them if I wanted to.
The look he gives me scorches me to my toes. “Where do you belong?”
I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel him fully inside me. I need to know we’re one. “With you,” I gasp out, starving for the deep thrust I know is coming. “I belong with you.”
Griffin drives upward and buries himself to the hilt inside of me with a sound of pure masculine satisfaction. A bright light flashes from me, illuminating the shadowed corners of the room. A long rumble of thunder vibrates in the air. I throw my head back, my mouth open and gasping for breath. He pumps his hips hard, just once, and my inner walls contract. My body gathers sensation, holding it tightly for that potent, suspended moment before racing toward bliss.
Griffin thrusts again, and I shout his name, beginning to pulse around him. He presses deeper, and my toes leave the floor. He holds me up, pinning me at my very center as release pounds through me in powerful waves.
His breath ragged on my temple, Griffin unhooks his arm from under my leg. My feet touch the floor, and my legs nearly buckle. He lets go of my wrists in order to band both arms around my waist. My arms fall like lead weights, and I groan, blood flowing back into them in a stabbing rush. I slump against him, weak and limp, but he doesn’t give me time to recover. He pivots and drops me onto the bed on my hands and knees. My arms collapse, and my upper body lands on the mattress, leaving my ass in the air.
“There’s a handprint on your arse.”
I turn my face so I can breathe. “Are you sorry?”
He grunts. “Not one bit.”
I grin beneath a curtain of hair. I’m not either. Not one bit.
Leaning over me, Griffin sweeps the tangle of curls out of my face. He gets ready to enter me from behind, something he’s never done before besides those few mind-blowing thrusts against the wall. I twist my head so I can watch him. He looks like a God—massive, handsome, stern, his countenance dark. Torchlight flickers over his face, illuminating some parts and obscuring others. His eyes are in shadow, but they still smolder as he stares down at me.
I start to lift up on my aching arms, but Griffin’s hand lands on the small of my back. He slides it along my spine, pressing me back down. He gives a gentle push when he reaches my nape and then moves his hand to my hip, holding me steady as his other hand guides his arousal back to where we both want it. He goes slowly until he’s fully seated and then begins to thrust.
He’s not gentle, and he’s never been so deep inside me, like he’s pounding my heart with every powerful stroke. I whimper, weak and hot, slick and needy. Vulnerable. Pleasure builds—coiling tension, tingling warmth. The sensations aren’t just physical. Griffin’s behavior since he pinned me against the wall—his insistent question, his barely checked aggression, this dominant position—they all tell me a lot about how he felt when he thought I was gone. I may be the one on my knees right now, but I bring this earthquake of a man to his knees as well. He’s big, and strong, and commanding, but he needs me. I’m vital. He’s becoming the air I breathe, but maybe that’s all right, because I’m the air he breathes, too.
I grip the rumpled blanket and press back with a throaty sound I didn’t even know I could make. Griffin’s hands tighten on my hips, stopping my rocking motion. He’s in complete control, and it makes me wild and greedy and frenzied for more.