Griffin, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease as he unlocked the gate and led the way to his porch. Saul awaited us there, sitting tucked back from the snow, his ears flattened grouchily.
“Poor Saul,” Griffin crooned, pausing to pat his head. Saul meowed imperiously and went to the door, pressing his face into the crack until it opened.
“Come in,” Griffin said; perhaps he imagined I needed the encouragement. Perhaps I did need the encouragement. “Do you mind reviving the fire in the study upstairs while I feed Saul?”
“Of course not,” I said, glad to have something familiar to do. While he followed the orange tabby to the kitchen, I went up the stair and into the study.
The fire was well-banked; I knelt down in front of it and stoked the embers, adding a few logs, until the flames snapped and popped cheerfully. Snow built up against the windows; it would be hard for me to get home if it kept up this way.
I could still do the sensible thing and scurry back to my apartment while the weather allowed. But I couldn’t forget the kiss. The way Griffin pressed against me, the way he made my heart pound and my thoughts scatter…
…Was dangerous. I’d spent so many years in control, never yielding, and yet he walked into my life and suddenly I had no will to resist the desire enflaming my skin and stiffening my groin. The high wall I’d built around me had fallen, and I didn’t even know if I wanted it back.
Footsteps sounded on the stair behind me. I climbed to my feet and stood staring at the fire, not quite daring to turn around.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
I considered it, but after my disgrace on Sunday, I couldn’t bring myself to risk it. “No. Thank you.”
He came up behind me, pausing only scant inches away. My body trembled from his nearness, and my lips ached with the need to be kissed again. What would he do? Would he touch me?
His breath stirred the small hairs at the nape of my neck. “Have you ever been with a man?”
I wanted to laugh; surely he was being generous. “No. I-I’ve never even been kissed before.” He might as well know what he was getting into.
He drew in a soft sip of breath, and I braced myself for mockery. “Truly?” he murmured, sounding awed. “Am I really the first to look beneath the cold exterior and see the passion seething within?”
I closed my eyes. His description had nothing to do with me; it couldn’t. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He chuckled softly, and a shiver ghosted over my skin, because he still touched me only with his breath. “Don’t you? You blind me, my dear, with your fire. Carefully controlled, directed only into the outlets you allow, but otherwise left to boil beneath the surface. You’re like a bottle of fine champagne, yearning to be opened. Year after year, the pressure building slowly, with no release. And ever since I met you, all I could think was what it would take to make…you…pop.”
A groan escaped me as I turned to him, my lips seeking his even as his arms twined around me. He had removed his suit coat and tie, and the heat of his body soaked through the fabric of his shirtsleeves. He kissed me deeply, before pulling back and nipping at my lower lip, then plunging in again.
He went to his knees on the carpet, pulling me down to straddle his lap. My hardened member pressed against one equally as stiff, and I gasped at the sheer eroticism of it. To know he wanted me the way I wanted him, to feel the exquisite pleasure of pressing my erection against his and know he experienced the same, was more than I had ever imagined, and I clung to him helplessly.
He shoved my coat impatiently off my shoulders, and I let it fall, beyond caring whether it became creased or not. He pulled away just far enough to fumble at the buttons of my waistcoat, before stripping it off and attacking the rest of my clothing. His lips were like fire against the skin of my throat; I arched my head back to give him access.
His kisses fell on my skin like rain on drought-stricken ground, soaking up every caress and thirsting for more. He pulled up my undershirt, sliding his hands over the exposed skin of my sides, every finger a brand against me.
Griffin paused, a shudder going through him as he mastered himself. “Is this what you want?” he whispered, his lips moving against the sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder. “If this is too much, too soon, we’ll stop.”
I shook my head frantically. “No, please, I-I want this.” If he rejected me now, I’d shatter into a million pieces.
He moved—and suddenly I found myself on my back in front of the fire, with Griffin above me. His eyes were dark with lust, his kiss-swollen lips parted. “As you like,” he murmured, then bent his head to my chest, closing his mouth around one nipple.
I gasped and arched my back, my fingers digging helplessly into his shoulders. Dear lord! He sucked hard, then nibbled lightly, and every touch of his lips sent a wave of heat straight to my groin. Suitably encouraged by my moans, he worked his way down, kissing and licking over my ribs to my belly, until he came to my trousers.
The brush of his hand across the cloth tented over my erection made me twitch. I clenched helplessly at the rug as he undid the buttons and slid his hand inside to free me. The touch of his fingers was nearly my undoing. I closed my eyes and fought for control as he drew my length out.
“Mmm.” His breath brushed against my member and I let out an involuntary whimper. “Have you really been hiding this fellow away? What a tragedy.”
There was no possible response. I settled for whimpering instead.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his fingers closing around the base of my shaft. Unable to gainsay him, I did as he asked. He was on his knees between my legs, his head bent low. My aching member jutted at him obscenely, the length flushed dark with desire, the sensitive tip of the glans protruding past the hood, a pearl of moisture gathered on the slit.
Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head and flicked out his tongue. I let out a gasp, my hips jerking involuntarily. “Please…”
He gave me a sultry smile. “Please what?”
I could barely think, let alone speak. “I-I can’t—”
Mercifully, he didn’t press the issue. Instead, his hand slid up the length of my shaft, then wrapped around it, gently retracting the hood, a moment before his mouth closed around me.
Yes. God, yes! His mouth felt warm and hot and wet. All of my defenses were stripped away by the wave of exquisite pleasure. His lips slid down my length, sucking hard, then drew back, and there was no possible way I could stand another repetition.
My back arched, and I pushed at him blindly, trying to get him off before I lost all control. But he slid all the way down again, moaning, and it was the end of me. My scrotum tightened, and a wave of white-hot pleasure pooled at the base of my member, surging up and out as I spent myself into his mouth.
He gently let my softening length slip from his mouth, before stretching out beside me while my breathing slowed. His lips were slick with my spend when I turned my face to accept the kiss he offered. I expected to be repulsed by the taste of myself in his mouth, but it proved oddly erotic.
His eyes were still dark with desire, his cheeks flushed and his member hard as he pressed against my hip. “Come to bed?” he asked.
I licked my lips and nodded. “Yes.”
~ * ~
He took my hand and led me to the bedroom. My other hand was occupied with keeping my trousers from falling down about my ankles. The bedroom was cold, and I winced in anticipation of icy sheets—although no doubt they would warm up quickly with Griffin beside me. He turned to me beside the bed and pulled me close, kissing me deep. I let go of my trousers to return his embrace, and they slipped away, leaving behind only drawers, which he divested me of quickly enough. His hands shaped my buttocks, pulling me tight to him.
When our mouths parted again, I set myself to the buttons of his vest, wanting nothing more than to feel the burn of his skin on mine. My hands shook, making me even more clumsy than usual. He didn’t seem to m
ind, shedding his clothing as I worked through the layers. A light dusting of hair covered his broad chest, and a darker trail led from his navel down, to disappear beneath his trousers.
He was handsome as a Grecian statue, his body strong and nicely muscled. A strange scar wrapped around his right thigh; the skin there looked almost melted, as if he had been splashed by acid.
I forgot about the scar at the sight of his member: thick and well-formed as the rest of him, the hood drawn back and the tip glistening with liquid. My greedy length stood up again at the sight.
What if he thought me a sex fiend?
Fortunately, he seemed to approve of my renewed passion. He eyes roved over me, and he licked his lips, before swallowing thickly. “How I want you, my dear.”
“I’m yours,” I whispered, kissing him.
He threw back the covers on his bed and pulled me down into it with him. The feel of his skin on mine, with nothing separating us, drew an involuntarily groan from me. “Tell me what to do,” I begged.
“What do you want to do?”
I didn’t know what to say, what to ask. Seeing my uncertainty, his smile took on a slight wryness, and he cupped my face in his hands. “There’s no wrong answer,” he said gently. “There’s nothing to fear.”
Of course there was: failure, disappointment, my own poor judgment. But it was hard to remember that when he pressed his body against mine, his length hard and hot against my stomach, his mouth at my ear whispering: “Tell me what you ache for. Tell me what has kept you awake at night, alone and yearning in your bed. Show me the secret fire in your heart.”
“Let me touch you,” I panted. “Please.”
He rolled onto his back, his eyes smoldering along with his smile. “Have your way with me, then.”
Chapter 15
I rolled on top of him, kissing him fiercely, before trailing my lips down his throat. His skin tasted salty, and his masculine scent fired my nerves. His chest invited exploration, and I ran my hands over the finely-sculpted muscles, over the little buds of nipples. He sighed in pleasure when I touched them, so I bent and kissed the one, then the other.
“Yes.” He arched against me. “Use your teeth.”
A gasp and a twitch of his member were my rewards. I kissed and licked and nipped my way down, making him jump once or twice when I found unexpectedly sensitive places. I wanted to explore every inch of his skin; I wanted to learn everything he liked.
His member distracted me from the task; hard and leaking with need, it bobbed and twitched in response to my mouth on his belly, as if asking for attention. I sat back and ran my fingers up and down the shaft, exploring.
“Mmm, yes,” he gasped, his hips jerking slightly against me, as if he couldn’t keep still.
My mouth watered, and I licked my lips nervously. “May I…?”
“Do you want to suck my cock?”
Stupidly, his language made me blush, even though I was on my knees between his legs, naked and erect, having already spent myself into his mouth. “Y-Yes.”
“Then do, or else you’ll have me begging.”
I wanted to devour him like a starving man, but somehow I held back, tasting him with my tongue, lapping up the liquid seeping from his slit, swirling around the head, sucking lightly on the hood.
“My dear, please,” he whimpered, his hips flexing again. “Before you drive me mad!”
I closed my mouth around him, careful of my teeth. I tried to take the thick column of flesh entirely, as he had with me, but the brush of the head against the back of my mouth almost had me gagging. “I’m sorry,” I said, after I’d hastily drawn back.
He shook his head. “Don’t be. What you’re doing feels wonderful.”
Wanting to give him as much pleasure as I could, I wrapped my hand around the base of his member and put my mouth to work on the upper part. His moans and pants were encouraging, even interrupted with the occasional “more tongue—oh!” or “less teeth.”
Eventually, he reached down and tugged me away. “Kiss me,” he said breathlessly.
I kissed him, and he rolled me onto my side, so we lay facing each other. Our lengths rubbed together, and I let out a small gasp at the sensation. To know he was hard, needy, for me, to feel his erection against my own, was powerfully arousing.
He flung one leg over my hip, rubbing his full length against me. “My dear,” he whispered, but anything further seemed beyond him.
“Yes.” I gripped his shoulders with my hands and thrust against him.
A shiver ran across his skin in response, and a sigh escaped him. One of his hands curled around both our lengths, and his leg tightened over my hip, as if seeking to draw us even closer. We writhed against one another, pushing and rubbing and thrusting, until suddenly his body stiffened, his member twitching against mine.
“Yes, yes, please, Ival, yes—”
Hot semen jetted out against my belly, even as his face contorted with ecstasy. And, oh God, I had done this to him, me, and I couldn’t possibly hold back any longer, body tightening and a second surge of pleasure pulsing through my member, even as I shuddered and whimpered and bit at the smooth skin of his shoulder.
Eventually, my mind pieced itself back together from the shattering ecstasy. We lay curled together, his leg still loose across my hip, our mingled spend cooling on our bellies. His breathing was ragged from exertion, as was mine. His eyes were closed, his forehead pressed to my shoulder.
What was the etiquette of the situation? Was I to thank him, gather up my things, and leave? Yet again, I had no idea what he might expect from me.
As if he’d heard my thoughts, he nuzzled his lips against my skin. “Stay the night?”
My heart gave a happy little lurch in my chest. “Yes. If it’s not inconvenient.”
He chuckled warmly. “You are anything but an inconvenience, my dear.”
I liked hearing him call me that. But it brought up a question I couldn’t hold back. “When you, er, you called me…”
He drew back, and to my astonishment, a light blush spread across his cheeks. “You said you didn’t like Percival or Percy, and Whyborne seemed terribly formal for the throes of passion. I thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind Ival too much. If you hate it, of course, I won’t—”
“No, not at all.” But it didn’t sound as if he’d invented it on the spot. “Do you mean to imply you’ve been contemplating what to call me in the ‘throes of passion,’ as you put it?”
He laughed, but it seemed directed at himself. “Well, yes. I had to have something to call you when I dreamed about having you in my bed.”
Did he mean to say he’d imagined this? Perhaps even brought himself to release thinking about me? Even as spent as I was, my member gave a twitch.
“Me?” I asked, baffled. “Why me?”
“Because I want you,” he said simply.
“Then why… the other night, after we went to the brothel…you didn’t…I mean, you might have…”
He propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at me quizzically. “You were drunk, Whyborne. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d taken advantage.”
Oh. “I thought you hated me,” I confessed.
He collapsed beside me again with a sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh. “Why on earth would you think such a thing? I didn’t hate you, and indeed I felt rather guilty for being as tempted as I was. And if you must ask ‘why’ again, as I suspect you will, then because I preferred to have you in my bed because you wished to be there, not because you were too drunk to know any better.”
I could hardly argue with such a sentiment. Still, it made me feel warm, all the way down to my toes. “I’m glad,” I said softly.
He glanced at me, and whatever he saw in my face made him smile. “As am I.”
His body fit snugly against mine, his head resting on my shoulder, one arm tossed across my chest and his legs tangled with mine. I closed my eyes, thinking this couldn’t possibly be true. I’d wake tomorrow in
my lonely little bed, with nothing but my drab, colorless existence around me. Griffin’s presence in my life would have been a dream altogether, something I longed for but could never have.
He let out a little sigh of contentment, and his arm tightened around me as sleep claimed him. I turned my head just enough to press my lips against his forehead, and silently strove to memorize the smell of his skin, the weight of his limbs.
Outside, the snow piled up against the windows, but our bed was warm and safe. Holding Griffin against me, I let myself slip away into sated sleep.
~ * ~
I slept poorly, mainly because I was unused to sharing a bed with another. Every time Griffin shifted or snored or rolled over, I awoke with a jolt. At some point during the night, Saul wandered in, and, finding his master’s bed otherwise occupied, curled up at our feet and began to purr. It would have been soothing, if he hadn’t chosen to change position every ten minutes.
I finally fell into a deep sleep some time shortly before dawn. When I at last awoke, my first groggy thought was it all must have been a dream. But I was naked under the sheets, a state I had never before slept in, and the scent on the pillow beneath my cheek was of Griffin’s shampoo.
I opened my eyes and blinked a few times. Griffin was no longer beneath the covers with me; instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, one hand resting lightly on my leg.
There was a damp patch on my pillow; I’d been drooling. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, I sat up, pulling the covers with me to keep out the cold air, and to keep from revealing my nakedness. Not that he hadn’t already seen all I had to offer, but it put me at a bit of a disadvantage, sitting there without a stitch of clothing, while he wore everything but his suit coat.
“Good morning,” he said with a warm smile. “I was just going down to make breakfast. Would you like something? I have eggs and cold cereal.”
We’d just spent the night together: was I supposed to acknowledge it at all? Pretend it had never happened? Kiss him?
Whyborne and Griffin, Books 1-3 Page 13