Page 126 of Finding Home
“Now you know how I feel,” he says, his breath hot on my lips. My heart pounds in my chest as I settle down completely on his lap. I feel his already hardened cock between my legs, and desire burns through my blood. I don’t pull away. “I’ve never fucking wanted anyone the way I want you, Blair.”
His words come out with conviction.
He means everything he’s telling me right now.
I smile against his lips. “What are you going to do about it?”
He pulls his head back for a better look into my eyes. Boom after boom echo, while lights flash around us. Each one lighting up the space, showing me every feature on his face. Every feeling.
It’s want.
It’s need and desire.
“Not here,” he grits out, bringing his hands to my hips and holding them tightly in place. “The first time I have you completely, it won’t be out here.”
I’m so turned on by the way he talks to me. Even if it’s not meant to come out dirty, his change in tone just makes me want it that much more. It’s a burly and demanding voice, begging me to go against everything he’s saying.
Grinding my hips once against his erection beneath me, he groans. I realize instantly, I’ve made a mistake because if he truly tries to stop me, I don’t think I’ll survive. He’s thick and hard, I don’t even have to see it with my eyes to know this.
“Sweetheart,” he growls. “Don’t start something we can’t finish.”
I rest both hands on his shoulders and grind my hips again, chasing the friction between us. But he stops me by lifting me off his lap. I let him, but I scoot down his legs and let my hands find the buckle on his belt.
This time he doesn’t stop me.
I unclasp it, pulling it from the loops before looking up at him. He watches my every move as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. Unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zipper down, he lifts just enough to allow me to scoot the jeans down to his thighs. When I reach for his boxer briefs, I hook a finger into the waistband, but he stops me with a hand around my wrist.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says.
The only answer I give in response is dipping my hand into his briefs and wrapping it around his length. I moan in pleasure. Ifreakingmoan from just the contact because Griffin Barlow ishuge. Without even looking down, I can feel the veins in the palm of my hand.
Reluctantly, I release my hold on his cock. Using both hands, I slide his briefs down and then his jeans, bringing them all the way down to his ankles to allow me space between him. I look down, my eyes widen, and my breath picks up speed. I have never been this turned on before when we haven’t even done anything.
I sit back on my heels between his legs, letting my hand glide up his length and over the tip. Precum coats my palm, and I moan quietly again. A vision of him inside of me as I stroke up and down.
He might actually break me.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he hisses, letting his eyes close and head fall back.
Taking the opportunity to really give him pleasure the way he did me last night, I lean down and swipe my tongue across the tip of his cock, watching as his eyes fly open and he stares down at me. I open my mouth wide and slowly take him in.
Holy. Shit. This is so hot.
He moves the hair out of my face before holding it at the top of my head for a better view.
“I’ve had thoughts about this,” he breathes out. “Thoughts of you sucking my cock and taking me deep in the back of your throat with that pretty little mouth of yours.”
His dirty words fill the air and I bob my head up and down at a faster speed. Letting my tongue drag up the shaft slowly before attempting to take him completely.
“But this right here,” he pants out. “Never did I envision you would look this fucking perfect doing it.”
I hum around his cock, the vibration causing him to hiss and tighten his hold on my hair. I don’t let up. I want him to feel everything he’s made me feel. The way he made me come so hard I saw stars, figuratively and literally, on his back porch. Igrip the base of his cock with my hand, keeping it in motion with my mouth.
My legs squirm, aching for some kind of friction to release what’s building inside of me, and he notices.
“Reach your hand inside your jeans, sweetheart,” he orders. “I want to know how wet you are right now.”
I release him from my mouth, but keep my mouth hovering over the tip. “I’msoaked, Griffin.” I moan the word as if saying it out loud is painful. I want his hands on me. I wanthimto feel it for himself. “I told you I want you.”
