"After?" I play dumb.
He doesn't. "After I make you come until you beg me to stop."
"Fuck." My sex clenches. He's too good at this. He really is.
"If you'd rather show me the decorations first, we can do that."
"Maybe just… a little." I press my lips together. I want to fuck him. Badly. But I want this too. I want to exist in the same space as him. For it to be ours.
Jackson's place never felt like ours. I had my desk, sure, but that was it. The rest was his.
Griff nods. He flips the switch. The light flickers on. It's a soft, white thing, but it's still harsh compared to the candles.
Griff's gaze travels over my body slowly. It stops at my lips, chest, hips, thighs.
He stares at my scars. Not like he's disgusted or scared or confused. Like he's savoring the sight of me. Like he loves them as much as he loves every part of my body.
My heartbeat quickens.
My breath catches.
My knees knock together.
This is too much. But I still want more. I always want more. "You like it?"
"Baby, I gotta be honest with you."
"Yeah?"
His breath is low. Needy. "I have no fucking idea how you've decorated."
"I—"
"Not gonna be able to look at anything else while you're wearing that."
"Oh." My cheeks flush. "I… Uh…"
"Should probably tell you something before I fuck you senseless."
"You don't have to."
He wraps his arms around my waist. "I made you a video."
"What?" My sex clenches. God, that's so hot. How did I miss it? I need to see it. Now. "Where is it?"
"In your inbox."
Oh. "I've been—" I motion to the posters. "I haven't looked at my phone."
"Did it at the office."
"Yeah?"
"Dean almost walked in on me."
My blush deepens. "Really?"
He nodsyeah.