Griff flashes that savage grin again. But when he speaks, his voice is serious. “Tomorrow’s ours.”
Alabama shakes from the promise, from words she’d never thought she’d hear, from a man she never thought would say them. Her heart pounds in her chest. They’re just words, but coming from Griff, they’re more. They feel like a pledge, like a badge of honor he will wear and then some. And she realizes she trusts him—still, despite everything.
Griff slides a hand up her knee to part her thighs, then stills. “Tell me to stop. You’ll kill me, but I will.” His yellow eyes bore into her. “Tell me to stop.”
He’s waiting for her, to give her approval, for her body to respond to what he’s offering, for her to take charge. Her brain tells her stop, but her body broadcasts a single screaming message: let go.
Pretending’s a thing of the past. She wants Griff, wants this high to last all night. All her reasons why they can’t do this, that she’s falling back into bad habits, it all slips away. She just doesn’t care. Her body can only hold out so long.
“No.” Her hands grip his broad shoulders, her long pink nails digging in, making their mark. Claiming. “Go.”
A sly, greedy smile spreads across his face. “Oh, I’m goin’. Slow,” he says, leaning in close to brush the curve of her throat with his lips. “Believe me, I’m gonna take my damn time tonight.”
With a kind of vicious reverence, he ravenously kisses her legs, moving up her shins to her thighs. He spreads her thighs, and she moans as he presses a kiss to her sex. He hisses his approval when he finds her already wet. Then Griff pulls back to stare, his eyes riveted on her, his grin slow, his breath a hot, predatory pant.
“I want to feel you, every part of you. Explore what I’ve been missin’. It might take all night, but I’m gonna do it.”
Alabama shivers at the husky desire in his voice. Impatient, she tears at his shirt, dragging it away from his body with one slick hand. Grinning at her, Griff lifts her dress up and then it’s off, leaving Alabama clad in only her bra and panties.
Griff’s eyes widen as his gaze drifts up and down her body. His eyes soften, losing some of that feral hunger. “Jesus.” His voice is hoarse. Appreciative. “You’re goddamn beautiful, Alabama.”
A hot blush creeps across her cheeks, but she basks in his compliment. Because Alabama knows what he means.
His body—Griff’s all grown up. Alabama takes her time drinking him in. His broad shoulders, stocky V-shaped build, and beautifully muscled arms and chest. A thatch of golden hair leads a trail up his stomach.
Then, Alabama lets out a squeal as Griff’s on his feet, scooping her up with one arm. His biceps, his tattoos rippling as he easily drags her backwards to the middle of the bed.
Alabama arches in his arms, her need too intense for words. A groan escapes Griff. She follows his eyes to see him staring. One of her breasts has come free of her bra, a taut rose-colored nipple standing at attention. Unable to help himself, Griff lunges, catching her breast in his mouth. His tongue licks and strokes concentric circles around her beaded nipple, slow swirls that have her going flat-out insane.
The sensation has Alabama crying out, her eyes rolling back in her skull. Griff keeps a tight grip as she goes limp in his arms.
His eyes, hooded and dark and dangerous, find her. “I’m not sure I can go slow.” He lays her down on the pillow.
Alabama wets her lips. “I’m not sure I want you to.”
One muscular arm props him up as he hovers over her, and then his other hand is drifting. Down, down, down it goes, his thumb hooking into the hem of her panties to slowly drag them off. His fingers dip inside of her with an expert gentleness. She sucks him in and she hears a sharp exhale of pleasure from Griff. Alabama writhes as her heat pulses around him. She’s already wet, thrumming with need and sick of being teased mercilessly.
“Oh God ...” Alabama arches helplessly. She thrashes her head. Her hips rise and fall. “More, more,” she begs.
Griff slips two fingers inside her. Her abdomen quivers. Her head snaps up, and she flings an arm around Griff’s neck, dragging him down to her. She moves greedily for his lips, needing more from him, needing release. As if in answer, he cuts off her gasp, sucking in her air. Her body responds, drinking in his hot breath. His tongue flicks against hers and Alabama lets out an agonized moan. She’s over the edge and he knows it. He’s got her surrendered.
“Griff ... please ...”
She whimpers when Griff breaks the kiss, his clever fingers slipping out of her to find her clit. His fingertips move expertly. No more teasing. He knows slow circles, smooth strokes do the trick, has always known. Alabama’s brain overheats at his familiar touch and her body shakes. Her stomach feels as if it’s being pulled up to the stars.
A golden yellow light fills her vision and then Alabama’s trembling, shaking, pulsing as waves of pleasure crash over her. Crying out, Alabama bucks her hips up against Griff’s abdomen, her pleasure pulsing against him, imprinting him with slick trails of her arousal.
Before she can collapse against the bed, he clutches her tight to him. Alabama, writhing in pleasure, lets loose one last violent tremble of her body before she sinks limply into his grip.
Griff’s gaze meets hers. All seriousness. All business, all for her.
“What’s next, Al?”
Sex. It’s what she wants. It’s what he wants. Fighting it is no longer an option.
Her stomach flip-flops from nerves, from exhilaration, from that age-old first-time feeling.
She and Griff, they were each other’s first, and the sex back then was fumbling and awkward and illicit. Stealing moments whenever they could, but it had been true. It had been real. And now. Now Griff’s all smooth moves and clever hands. And Alabama—she ain’t too bad herself.