Page 37 of Dropping Like Flies

Ben reached up and yanked my head down, close enough that I could feel his breath on my lips. “Have I ever told you that you talk too much?”

“Not for a long time.”

“Well, you do. Either kiss me or get back to your own damn side of the bed. Or so help me God, I’ll decide for you.” There was a growl in Ben’s voice that said he wasn’t playing.

I kissed him.

Long and sweet.

Our mouths coming together like they’d never been apart, the fated mate’s bond ensuring I felt what he felt and him me, the intermingling of our lust and desire producing an experience like no other. Something that nothing else had ever come close to.

Chapter Fourteen

Ben

Waking up to Griff kissing me had been unexpected. We might have hashed a lot of things out tonight, but I still hadn’t thought it would be that easy. Even as we kissed, I thought it probably wasn’t. That this was nothing more than scratching an itch. If that were true, I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not with Griff’s mouth on mine and tomorrow seeming a long way away.

I rolled him, coming down on top of him and kissing him harder, my cock already straining against the front of my underwear. “I need you,” I panted between kisses, grinding myself against him. “I need this to happen.” Griffin’s lack of argument was in the hand that came up to grasp my arse. In the way, he bucked his entire body against mine. And in the way he kissed, like he couldn’t get enough of me.

It wasn’t long before his fingers found their way inside my underwear, nothing separating his palm from bare skin as he stroked and squeezed. Between us, we kicked off both pairs of underwear, throwing the sheets back to leave us gloriously naked and with nothing hidden from the other’s gaze. There was more Griffin than there used to be, his exercise regime—if he still had one—presumably not keeping pace with his alcohol abuse. I liked it, though. It gave me new places to explore.

His cock was the same. Same thickness. Same length. Same curve. Same taste as I took it deep, Griffin urging me to turn so he could suck mine at the same time. Once upon a time we’d spent hours doing this, every 69 a competition over who could hold off from coming the longest. There were no losers in a game like this, though. Whether you came first or second, you were still a winner.

I tipped my head back, Griffin letting out a moan of pleasure as he slid deeper in my throat, the moan reverberating around my dick and leaving me momentarily unable to do anything but take his thrusts. I’d forgotten how intense sex with Griffin was, the necromancer bond ensuring that the twin threads of our pleasure wrapped around each other to form a rope of desire, twice as thick and twice as strong.

Needing a breather, I slid my mouth off Griffin’s cock and used my hand instead while he continued to use that talented mouth of his to drive me ever closer to the endgame. Was this how I wanted to come? The answer came in a flash of neon lights that hammered at my brain. If this was going to be a one and only then, no, it wasn’t how I wanted to come. I wanted it to last longer. I wanted to feel it tomorrow, evidence that it had really happened if I woke to find Griffin’s barriers back up. In short, I wanted to get fucked.

Griffin made a sound of protest as I pulled my cock free from his lips. I pushed him back until he was kneeling on the bed and I could straddle him. He looked up at me through slightly glazed eyes, his lips still glistening with saliva and probably pre-cum too. I kissed him, tasting myself on him. Yeah, definitely pre-cum. “Going to handcuff me, detective?” he said with a slight smile.

“Going to handcuff me, detective chief inspector?” I chided him. “I earned that promotion. And no, not this time. I’m sure you can be good without me restraining you.” It was so easy to turn back time to when my job had provided all the role play you might expect. And yes, we had put my handcuffs to good use a time or two. It would have been a travesty not to. It was definitely preferable to any role play linked to Griffin’s line of work. There was nothing sexy about playing dead, especially when you worked in homicide.

I rubbed my arse over Griffin’s cock, the two of us moaning in unison as the tip notched in my hole in a promise of penetration, that I was eager—maybe even desperate—to get on with. “Lube,” I demanded, already mulling over how we might get some if none was to be had in this hotel room. There was a supermarket at the corner of the street, but I hadn’t paid any attention to its opening hours. Why would I? Was it open twenty-four hours a day? If I needed to, I’d knock on every damn door in this hotel until we got what we needed.

“In my wallet,” Griffin rasped out, his cock still rubbing over my hole in a delicious slide.

I was off him before he’d even finished the sentence, pausing only to point a finger at him in warning. “Don’t move!”

“Yes, DCI Weaver,” he drawled.

I laughed as I put those detective skills to good use and located his trousers. Hardly the toughest case I’d ever had to crack. His wallet was in the back pocket, a slight pang making itself known when I realized he still had the same one as when we’d been together. And I knew that because I’d been the one to buy it for him. There were two packets of lube in there, along with three condoms, his level of preparedness for sex giving me momentary pause until I realized I should be grateful. There would be time later to think about how many other men Griffin had been with. But not tonight. Tonight, I was going to ride that cock and pretend it was all mine.

When I turned back around, the sight of Griffin stole the breath from my lungs. He’d done exactly what I’d asked and hadn’t moved from the position I’d put him in, muscles braced against the bed, thighs slightly parted, thick cock pointing toward the ceiling. The slight sheen of sweat covering him was the icing on the cake, making him look like a statue left for me to defile.

I spent too long admiring him, Griffin’s head turning to see what was taking so long. “Get back over here.”

“Yes, sir,” I mocked, dropping my collection of treasures on the bed as I straddled him once more. His mouth was hot and hungry when our lips crashed back together, his hands sure as they worked their way down my spine. And to think I’d been determined to leave him in London. More fool me. If he’d done what he’d been told, there would have been no confronting the truth, and I certainly wouldn’t be rolling a condom over his cock and adding extra lube. We hadn’t used condoms for the last ten months of our relationship, so there was a slight strangeness to using one now, but that had been a long time ago, and I was too impatient for a conversation about how safe we’d both been since then.

Condom on, we went back to the slow grind that had him rubbing against my hole but not penetrating, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. It was like the world’s most delicious torture. I tried to end it more than once, only for Griffin to refuse to play ball. Eventually, I batted his hands away and took over, positioning myself over the tip of his cock. I let gravity do the rest until the stretch became too much, and I had to pause.

Griffin’s brown eyes swam with lust. “Too big for you?” he teased.

If I could have spoken, I would have said something witty. But given all my focus and attention was on winning the fight between my hole and Griffin’s cock, I stayed silent.

“Hey,” Griffin said, his tone suddenly far more serious. “Ease up. I’ll finger you. We skimped on foreplay. I’ll—”

“I’ve got this,” I managed between gritted teeth, sliding down another inch. “All I need you to do is stay perfectly still.”

“I’ve got a better idea.”

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