Page 147 of Fighting the Forbidden

“You have any idea how happy I am to be with you right now?” he asks.

I tap the side of my head. “Shower cap and all?”

“It’s a good look on you.” He leans down and brushes his lips against mine. “Everything looks good on you.”

Water rains down around us in relentless, warm, steady streams from several directions. Griff slides his slick hands from my hips over my ribs and cups my breasts. “You’re so perfect. I could stare at you for the rest of the night.” He touches my chin, tipping my head back.

I lift my gaze and meet his concerned stare.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He tilts his head toward the bedroom.

“God, no. I just feel bad I messed it up.”

He shakes his head. “Please, stop saying that.” His lips curl at the corners. “You blew my mind. Literally. My brain’s still scrambled.”

“But don’t you like?—”

He presses a finger to my lips. “I love you. Your hands on me. Your mouth on me. Fucking amazing, baby.”

Finally, my embarrassment fades. I press my body closer. “So, you’ll let me try again?”

His eyes widen and he lets out a soft huff of laughter. “Any time you want.” He kisses my cheek. “How about you? You gonna let me taste you again?” He flicks his tongue against my ear, then sucks at a sensitive spot on my neck.

My breath stutters in my lungs. “God, yes.”

“Mmm.” He kisses my neck. “I like that answer.”

He curls one arm around my back, protecting my shoulders from the cold tile. His other hand slides from my breast to my hip. I drop my gaze. His thumb brushes the crease of my leg, and he squeezes my upper thigh. My leg looks tiny under his big hand.

He moves his thumb closer to my center, and I automatically inch my feet apart.

A low noise of approval rumbles in his chest. “I want to make you come with my hands.” His lips brush my shoulder. “Feel you squeezing my fingers.”

As if to demonstrate, he slides one finger between my legs, slipping along my sensitive flesh. I gasp. A mix of fear and excitement shudders down my spine. “Your hands are really big.”

“How’re you ever gonna take my cock if you can’t take my fingers?” He kisses my shoulder. “Hmm?”

A mindless thrum of anticipation pounds through my veins. Something hard pokes against my stomach. I drop my gaze. He’s hard and ready again. “What about you?”

“We’re not talking about me.” His thumb finds my clit, and my body jerks.

I clasp his shoulder to hold myself up, my fingers digging into hard muscles. “Oh my.”

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek.

“Is that weird?” I squirm and circle my hips, seeking more contact.

“No. It’s fucking amazing.” His lips graze my temple. “I need to taste you again.”

“Already?” My eyes pop open. “You want to…do that…again to me?”

“Lick your pussy?” He slips his hand out from between my legs and reaches behind him to twist the handle, cutting off the water. “Yes. I could eat you all night, Molly.”

My skin heats from forehead to chest at his plainer words.

He pushes the door open and grabs my hand, dragging me out of the shower.

Slightly disoriented, I stand on the tiles and cross my arms at the wrists.

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