Page 117 of Bitter Truths

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he breathes, and I pause because I fucking forgot about it in the wake of everything else.

“It’s fine,” I mutter, palming my breasts.

His eyes widen, the pupils dilating before he sucks in a breath and says, “Hals, I need you to know that I understand. I do, and it fucking kills me you had to go to that dick’s house in the first place.”

“I know, Griff,” I should take this opportunity to break it off because our argument is a perfect segue, but I want one last moment with him. Is that too much to ask?

“Sweet,” he says, but I lean back and pull my shirt off along with my bra in one go. I want him to see and feel everything. I want to see and feel everything. I need it.

My tits in his face effectively sends him over the edge, and I revel at the look in his glittering eyes as he murmurs, “You’re beautiful.”

Before I can respond, he leans in and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

“Yes,” I groan, grinding into him nastily.

“Fuck,” he says, breaking away.

I smile, but it’s wobbly because my heart is fucking breaking and his brows drop. In a panic, I grab my tits and knead them beneath my fingers.

His eyes drop to my actions, and his nostrils flare as he lifts me in his arms and carries me to the bedroom.

Dropping me to the bed, he pulls my pants off in a hurry before smiling at me wickedly and turning me to my stomach.

My core pulses in anticipation when he grabs my ass cheeks and spreads them wide. Bucking at the naughty action, I jump when his tongue slides over my back hole, shocked.

With a chuckle, he runs the tip of his tongue over my rosette, and I collapse against the bed, moaning. I never even imagined such a thing, but now that he’s doing it, I want more.

“Someday, I’m going to fuck you here,” he growls.

“Oh,” I whimper, sucking in a breath when he pulls back and slides into me. I feel the sweet stretch all the way to my toes and arch into him as he bottoms out with a grunt.

“Yes, Griff,” I groan, “fuck me.”

“Oh sweet, I’m gonna fuck you,” he growls, pulling back and pounding into me. His thrusts are so heavy, I’m forced into the mattress, but I don’t care because I’m climbing the mountain quickly.

Griff grabs my ass and spreads me open, running his fingertip over my pleats, and I tip over the edge, coming in a sweet wave.

“Oh fuck,” I sob.

Growling, Griff grabs my hips and pumps into me rapidly, but I’m desperate to touch him and I pull away, to his surprise.

He complies when I push him onto the bed and mount him, my fingertips warm when I run my hands over his chest. He bucks into me and I smirk, riding him roughly.

“Mm, so wet and sweet,” he grunts, capturing my mouth in a heated kiss. Grabbing his cheeks, I kiss him desperately, pouring my soul into his mouth.

“Sweet—” He pulls back to search my gaze, but I drop my eyes.

“Oh god, Griff,” I cut him off, grinding deep as another orgasm rushes through me. He snarls and pushes me over, thrusting into me heavily, and I cry out.

“Yes,” he barks, “fuck yes. You’re so fucking perfect.”

Watching him avidly, I stare at his expression as he orgasms, noting the beauty in his ferocity as his brows slam over his eyes and his mouth pulls back in a grimace.

The harshness is a contrast to the prettiness of his features. He’s a work of art, and now I know I can never recreate it because it’s a living, breathing thing that can never be one-dimensional. And with an ache in my chest, I acknowledge I’ll never see it again.

Griffin collapses against me, and I hug him close, hiding my tremors behind a facade of calm as he pulls away and smiles lazily, “Fuck, sweet, you can come home like that anytime you want.”

Giggling, I cover my face because a sob is creeping through, and I can’t hold it back. Instead, I pretend to cough, and Griffin smiles at me quizzically.

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