“I’ve been wanting to do that all day. And I’ve been meaning to tell you I really like your new jeans.” Another squeeze. “A lot. Later, I really want to peel them off of you. If you had any idea what I was thinking while we were going through the mail you would’ve run screaming.”
I gave a nervous, breathless laugh. I probably would have.
I didn’t want to run screaming now.
Griffen’s lips brushed the side of my neck, his breath so warm. The light bite of his teeth sent heat shooting through me. His mouth moved to the other side, nibbling and tasting, nipping my earlobe and sliding down to that sensitive spot where my shoulder met my neck. Somewhere in there, he tossed the robe off my other shoulder, and it hung at my elbows, ready to slide to the floor.
I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t have a strategy or a plan. I didn’t need one. Griffen knew, and everything he did felt so good. I straightened my arms and let the robe fall.
Griffen made a choking sound in the back of his throat and pulled away, his eyes burning as they took me in, moving from the top of my head, over my breasts, my hips, my legs, all the way to my feet.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Hope.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Under his burning gaze and gentle hands, I felt beautiful for the first time in my life. Beautiful to him and beautiful to myself.
I didn’t know what to say, but I thought I might know what to do. Heart pounding, I raised my hands and reached for the top button of his shirt. My fingers fumbled at first, but as his golden skin was revealed inch by inch, I sped up. He’d seen me, now I wanted to see him.
Griffen Sawyer did not disappoint. He had more muscle than I’d expected, his strong arms corded with it. I traced my fingers over a pink scar on one shoulder and down over his chest, circling his tight, small nipple, delighting in the sharp intake of breath at my touch. I rubbed the back of my fingers down the front of his stomach, smoothing over the ridges and furrows.
When my hands reached the button of his jeans, Griffen was done. He let me undo the button, let me lower the zipper, but before I could push the denim over his hips, he drew back.
I had a moment to wonder if I’d done something wrong, then his hands came up on either side of my face and his mouth took mine in a hungry kiss that blotted everything from my mind but Griffen.
I held onto his jeans for balance, my lips hard against his, just as hungry and just as desperate. This wasn’t like the other kisses. This was dangerous. Too much. I was falling, losing myself, and I didn’t care because it felt so good.
Griffen’s hands held my face, the calluses on his palms rough, his touch gentle as he fed from my mouth. I moaned into him, drinking in the feel of his skin under my hands, his touch making me crazy, driving off all my inhibitions. I didn’t care about anything but getting more of Griffen.
His hands fell from my face and he was backing me up, lifting me, dropping me on the bed. The brass frame rattled from the impact of my body, then his as he came down on top of me.
I didn’t remember taking off the camisole or the thong, they were just gone and I was naked, and I needed him so much I wasn’t even embarrassed that he could see everything.
His jeans were gone, too, and I could see every inch of his beautiful body, including his more than impressive erection. He was hard and thick and I wanted to touch. I reached down and closed my fingers around him. Squeezed.
Griffen’s face landed in my neck, his mouth sucking at my skin, his fingers between my legs finding me wet and open. Ready. I was so ready. I needed.
I squeezed again, loving the way his chest hitched, his breath ragged in my ear, the way he throbbed and jerked in my hand.
His finger slid inside me. One finger, then another. I spread my legs wider, lifting my knees, opening myself to him, needing him so badly. I was empty inside and I wanted this—I squeezed again, tugging, demanding—I wanted him inside.
With a groan, Griffen gave me what I wanted. Rolling on top of me, settling between my legs, he moved my hand aside and pressed into the soft heat at my core.
I gasped at the burning stretch of him. There wasn’t a sharp pain like I’d expected, just a slow burn as he pushed in and in and in. Slow. So slow. When he was seated to the hilt he stopped, propping himself up on his elbows and brushing the hair out of my face.