Page 73 of Two Wrongs

“When we get back to the room I’m going to clean you with my tongue and suck these tight nipples until you come from just me playing with your tits.”

She tries to fight it, but a groan escapes her mouth. I need to feel the flutters of her pussy as her walls squeeze my cock. I don’t think I can come without the vise grip of her inner muscles milking me.

I look over across the opening, and see another man watching from the balcony across the building. “You’ve got more admirers, baby bird.”

Pulling her hips back, I tell her, “Hold on tight. I need to fuck you harder.”

“Oh, god, yes. Fuck me daddy,” she groans.

She was told to be quiet, so I slap her pussy, and feel the vibrations on my cock. Holding on to her hips, I chase my orgasm. A few people watching is good, but too many could lead to consequences I don’t want, like someone recording us.

This new angle tips her forward so her back is level with the rail, and her tits sway freely in front of her. I start to fuck her harder than I ever have. The new voyeur is squeezing the railing as he watches me take her. The man in the corner is grunting as he comes in his woman’s mouth. My balls pull up close to my body, and with a few more hard thrusts I feel her walls clamp down on my dick, prompting me to let go and come inside of her.

I pull out of her body and fix her dress. Placing a soft kiss against her mouth, I take her hand and lead her away from our audience. The rest of tonight is for our eyes only.

30

Wren

My lids feel like sandpaper rubbing over my eyes when the blaring alarm on Griffin’s phone forces me to open them. Taking a page out of his book, I grunt at him. The short guttural sound is meant to say, “Turn it off, dammit!”

He made good on his promise, or perhaps it was a threat, when we made it back to the hotel last night. He took me over and over. On the dresser, in the shower, bent over the table, and finally in the bed. I even woke up at one point in the middle of a massive orgasm and Griffin once again buried deep inside of me. He finally showed signs of being human around five in the morning and fell asleep.

“You’re cranky in the morning,” he chirps. Fucking chipper as a bird.

I crack open a single eye and give him the best glare I’m capable of after three hours sleep, and with only one eye. “Someone didn’t let me sleep last night.”

“You’d think with the number of times I made you come you’d be in a better mood. I know I am.” He smiles easily, and it does go a long way to brightening my mood. He so often carries the weight of the world, and I hate seeing how it pushes him down.

I roll toward him and snuggle against his chest, placing a small kiss between his pecs. The light dusting of hair tickles my face.

“Why are we up already? I thought check out wasn’t until noon?” I mumble against his skin.

“Don’t you want to get breakfast? They stop serving at ten,” he reminds me.

“No, I want to sleep. I don’t care about food.”

Griffin combs his fingers through my hair. “You say that now, but when you wake up again you’re going to be hangry, and I don’t think I want to experience two cranky moods from you in one day.”

“Just wait until after we’re done at the rehab facility, I’m sure I’ll be in a pissy mood then too,” I grumble.

His hand reflexively tightens in my hair at the mention of where we’re going later. “I don’t like this,” he says quietly, and he forces his hand to release my hair.

I give myself just a moment to soak in the heat of his body and hope today isn’t the day this blows up in our faces.

I count to ten in my head. “Fine, but there better be coffee.” I make myself climb out of bed and into the shower.

The heat and steam of the shower went a long way into tricking my body that I got more than three hours of sleep. I wrap a towel around my body and use a hand towel to wipe the foggy mirror.

It takes several seconds for my eyes to recognize what I’m looking at. The moment it clicks, I scream, “Griffin!”

He bursts into the bathroom, ready to defend me from danger. Instead he finds me in the middle of an anxiety attack, one hand clasping my neck, the other trying to hold up the tiny hotel towel.

A deep furrow forms between his eyes as he assesses me, trying to figure out what is wrong. He finally notices my hand on my neck, and his eyes flash with desire. His tongue sweeps across his lower lip, and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to smirk.

I shake my head. “Are you proud of yourself? I’m hiding a hickey like I’m a teenager again. What was the point of this?” I drop my hand and point at my neck. “It’s not like he’ll even see it.”

The muscle in his jaw twitches. “It’s not for him. It’s to remind you that no matter what is said in there—“ his eyes slip down to my ring, “you remember who you belong to.”

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