GRIFFIN

by Paula Cox

  “We’re hiding out from the rain,” he replied, his voice tinged with amusement.

  If he is everything I want to avoid, why am I not running? she thought.

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Natasha,” he told her soothingly. “We can wait out the storm; I just don’t think you want to just wait it out.”

  He reached out and brushed a clump of wet hair off her neck, the light touch was tentative, gentle, and it gave Natasha chills. She turned to him, opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again.

  “I just…”

  “What?” his voice was quiet, smooth, but growing steadily husky with want. She thought of those lips crushing against hers and imagined them all over her body, on her breasts, her collarbone, between her legs. The thought made her almost dizzy with want, and the hunger in his eyes made her want to throw everything away in order to feed it.

  She wanted him closer, and she wanted him farther away. These two sides of her warred, as he moved closer and closer to her.

  “I don’t know what I want,” she breathed, her own voice growing husky, the throbbing between her legs growing insistent.

  “Then don’t think about it,” he replied.

  There was a moment of raw, convulsive violence, as they came together suddenly. Natasha did not recall moving to him, but she also did not recall seeing him move as her hands gripped his soft, black shirt. There was a moment of fumbling, quiet murmurs meaning nothing, as both of them attempted to get a grip on the situation.

  It took several seconds for Natasha to realize that she had kissed him back, eagerly clinging to him as though she were drowning. The rain fell harder and harder, as Natasha realized just where they were, and swiftly she decided that she didn’t care.

  A noise sounded from the back of her throat, something like a growl, a sound Natasha that had never made before. It had not occurred to her in the moment that she could even feel this way, hot and cold and angry and full of lust. It was violent at first, a rough tangle of limbs, unsure of where to go and how to proceed, but she knew that if they stopped now it would be over about as quickly as it had begun.

  Natasha didn’t want that, but had she wanted this? It all seemed too sudden after the death of her father; it all seemed too crazy now that someone wanted to kill her. Yet, she could feel Griffin’s strong arms encircle her waist, and she didn’t feel afraid.

  All of a sudden, she was sitting on the back of the bike, her legs wrapping around his waist, her surprisingly steady fingers running over the taught muscles of his stomach. He kissed down her neck, and she almost felt lightheaded. Natasha could hear Griffin’s breathing speed up, and it was then that she realized that she had been holding her own breath. Her kisses turned hesitant. This had to be wrong…right? she thought.

  Griffin held onto her as though afraid that she would leave, as though afraid that she would run, and he kissed her with a mad passion, as though trying to climb inside of her.

  It wasn’t as though Natasha had never been with a man, but this was something on a level she had never experienced. She had always been cold towards her lovers, especially the ones that she never intended to keep around, and yet now, she felt as though she would burst into flames under Griffin’s touch. Now, she thought that she might fall apart were it not for the circle of his arms.

  “Natasha,” his voice was hoarse as he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. He was almost breathless, and she wondered if she had ever made a man feel this way before, and if she had, why hadn’t she savored that moment?

  “No,” she said, as she pulled her own shirt off with one fluid movement. His eyes watched her hungrily as she did. “No talking. It feels like all we do is talk. It’s my turn. It’s my time; I get this.”

  She didn’t want to say it, but felt it all the same…I deserve this.

  The words hung in the air slightly too long, as he pulled back to look at her. He was most likely searching for consent, or understanding, or a map to discover how he had even gotten to this point, but she stubbornly threw her own shirt to the ground and pulled him back to her. He gave into her embrace with a sense of raw abandon. His hands reached down to cup her now bare breasts, his deft fingers playing over her nipples, hard from the cold and harder now from arousal. She gave a little gasp as he did so, and he smiled a bit.

  “You like that?”

  “Shut up,” she told him. He brought his mouth down and closed his lips around her left nipple, his tongue gently teasing her. She could feel the ache start to build inside of her, the need that she had for this, but no, not yet, she wanted to savor it.

  She pulled his shirt off completely and threw it somewhere else. Her position on the motorcycle briefly reminded her of how she had looked the first time he had put her on it, legs splayed as though she always knew that she had wanted this.

  The cloth of her jeans ripped as he wrenched them down her hips.

  “Sorry,” he murmured.

  “Shut up,” Natasha replied, reaching for his belt.

  “You’re going to have to come up with a new line.”

  “I think it works fine, so I’ll say it again. Shut up.”

  She had gotten to his belt buckle when he reached down to stop her, his fingers intertwining with hers before he brought both of her wrists together.

  “A little hasty, don’t you think?”

  Her lips formed into a pout as he held her wrists. She wanted it now, didn’t he?

  “I need it,” she said playfully.

  Still holding her wrists together with one sure hand, his free one drifted down and touched her through her panties. Her head tilted back, and she moaned as he rubbed against it, grinning as he could feel her wetness begin to seep through the fabric. Her hips rocked with him, wanting more, and his fingers found the tight little nodule of her clit. She cried out, letting her legs open wider, her entire body begging for more in spite of herself.

  “What do you want?” he whispered to him.

  “I want you to touch me,” she replied.

  With a deliberate slowness that made her moan all over again, he gently eased the fabric of her panties aside and slid one finger into her wetness. She tilted her head back and smiled as he worked, before he brought his fingers over to her clit again and began to rub at a sweet, tortuous pace. Natasha could feel her legs growing weak as her climax came near, but was it too early? She hadn’t noticed that he had already released her hands, and she found that she actually didn’t care. There was no point in fighting this.

  It didn’t matter as he pulled her close and worked harder, faster, in ever increasing increments. She dug her fingers into his bare shoulders and cried out in a pleasure so intense it almost felt like pain. She climaxed convulsively, her cries of pleasure echoing out and bouncing off the concrete of the overpass. His arms tightened to keep her from falling off the bike, and after she gave herself a moment to calm the wild beating of her heart, she looked up at him with a naughty sort of mischief.

  “It’s my turn,” she replied.

  Griffin raised an eyebrow as she slid off the motorcycle and pushed him down onto the ground. He landed on his leather jacket, spread out and waiting for them, and watched as she slowly kissed his neck, down his chest, and moving further and further. Her fingers were still shaking from the intensity of her orgasm; yet, she still managed to work the buckle of his belt. She slid his pants down around his thighs with a fluid, competent motion.

  He was already hard, and Natasha took in the thickness of him, her eyes widening in delight as her hand circled around his swollen member. She could still feel the dampness around her thighs from his administrations, and the thought of it made her even wetter, almost ready for another round herself. But it wasn’t time for that yet. Instead, she moved her hand up and down, feeling his flesh grow even harder, listening to the little sounds he made in the back of his throat because she circled her lips around him and heard him moan.

  It was an incredible sight for
Griffin, watching the fire in her amber eyes as she moved her mouth slowly up and down the length of him, as she closed her eyes in pleasure, as she took it all. He didn’t want to climax this way, but the sight of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen sucking his dick made him want to sit back and enjoy the view before he took matters into his own hands.

  Pleasure came to him in waves under her expert tongue. He put his fingers through her hair, feeling the dampness of it, remembering how wet she had been under his fingers. Desire more than pleasure flashed through him, and he grabbed her by the hair to pull her up towards him. She made a sound of surprise, of pain, but then of pleasure, as he pulled her close, kissed her hard, and then rolled her onto her back.

  She moved her hips as though ready for him, but he wasn’t anywhere near done with her. His lips closed around one of her nipples again, and she ran her fingers through her hair, moaning in appreciation.

  “But wait,” she whispered, barely able to string together a sentence, “I wasn’t done with you.”

  “I don’t care,” he replied, as he kissed his way down her body. She squirmed with delight, every inch of her body desperate for his touch. As he got to the sweetness between her legs, he used his fingers to spread her wide and ran his tongue gently over her clit. At first she jerked back, still a little sensitive from her last orgasm, but he moved with slowness once more, coaxing and caressing her until she was at the threshold again.

  “Oh God,” she gasped, as he slowly flipped a finger inside of her. He had never been with a woman this wet before, and she had never been this wet for a man. Her hips rocked back and forth as though dying for his cock, but slowly and surely he brought her to orgasm again.

  It was so intense that she could have sworn the world had grown black around the edges; everything constricted into one point, as waves and waves of pleasure washed over her. She tried to cover her mouth before she screamed once again, but she couldn’t help the noise she made. Griffin’s fingers dug into her thighs as he lapped up every single drop of her juices, crawling up her body to look at her face.

  He moved to say something, and she silenced him with a kiss, enjoying the taste of herself on his lips and tongue. They pressed together, and he seemed to hesitate, although she could feel the hardness of him against me with a strange and stark clarity.

  Her hand slipped down between them, and she stroked the length of it once more. The silky hardness of his beautiful cock. She could feel the wetness begin to soak the insides of her thighs once more, and she knew that she was ready. She wanted him inside of her as soon as possible, lest this strange magical attraction be broken and one of them changed their mind

  His hands shook, as he moved to guide himself inside of her, and with a swift, annoyed gesture, Natasha guided him to exactly where he wanted to be. She could feel the wetness coating the tip of his cock, and with a small groan, he entered her. The length of him filled her, and she moaned as though in relief.

  He moved inside of her so slowly, with that same deliberate intensity he had used as he was bringing her to orgasm. Natasha moved her hips in an attempt to spur him on harder, wishing he would drive into her and pound her into the pavement. She wanted him to pull her hair and fuck her until she couldn’t remember anything else that was happening to her.

  Feeling him inside of her felt incredible, and before she realized what she was doing she rolled him onto his back in one swift movement, keeping him inside of her. He looked up at her with a shocked expression, as she began to ride him exactly how she wanted to. It was time for Natasha to run the show, not Griffin.

  At first she decided to tease him with the same deliberateness, moving her hips slowly and deliciously, bringing herself up and down slowly so he could feel every single wet, aching inch of her. His tossed his head back and gripped her hips so hard that she wondered if there would be bruises in the morning. She liked the idea of that.

  “Oh fuck,” Griffin whispered. “Oh God.”

  “You like that, baby?” she asked, moving her hips a little faster, digging her nails into his chest as her own pleasure began to build.

  “Yes,” he replied, gripping her hips even harder. She smiled down at him, as she began to move faster, and she moved her hands up to touch her breasts, teasing at her nipples again. She leaned over to kiss him again, which made him seize the opportunity to roll her back over. Natasha was surprised for a moment until he grabbed her wrists again.

  “You really just want to tie me up, don’t you?” Natasha asked, her voice wavering, as he picked up the pace, moving harder, almost hitting that spot inside of her that made her go cross-eyed. He was so deliciously close, and Natasha wondered if perhaps he knew that, if perhaps that’s why he moved with such deliberate strokes. Either way, it was driving Natasha crazy.

  “I’m still thinking about it,” he replied, his voice also rough with need.

  “There aren’t many places do it,” she whispered.

  “Then maybe for next time,” he growled.

  She hooked her ankles around his waist, giving him more access, as he pinned her wrists to the ground, driving deeper and deeper inside of her. Natasha could feel another orgasm building up inside of her, as she moved to spur him on. All she wanted was to have him make her feel good over and over. It was an exquisite selfishness that she couldn’t believe she was feeling, but Griffin brought it out in her. He slowed down, studying her face.

  “You want to come, don’t you?” he whispered to her. The light was changing with the weather outside, shadows were cast across his face. To Natasha, he looked more dangerous than she had ever seen him.

  It was so incredibly sexy.

  “God, yes.”

  There was something so incredibly beautiful about her face when she was about to orgasm, it was such a turn on to see this normally completely self-controlled woman lose control over and over and over; he could do this forever. She felt so incredibly good from the inside, and all the women he had been with before disappeared from his mind, leaving only her.

  “Beg me,” he said.

  The part of her that liked to butt heads with the stubborn biker fought against the idea of giving in, why give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg? Why not just climax herself? She closed her eyes and tried to focus, but the idea that she would need his permission to do so was so incredibly hot to her that she couldn’t bring herself to do it on her own. She had to relent.

  “Please…” she closed her eyes as he gave a quick and authoritative thrust, crying out in disappointment when he stopped.

  “Again,” he insisted.

  “Please, Griffin. Please let me come…”

  This was enough for him, and he buried his face in her neck, pinning her wrists to the dirty ground and thrusting deeper and deeper inside of her. Distantly, he could hear her cries of pleasure, her whispering his name over and over as she rode the waves of pleasure. It was feeling almost too good, the wetness of her helping him go deeper than he thought he had ever been. They felt like they were becoming one, and finally, Griffin understood what it meant to want to stick with the same girl.

  He moved faster, harder, unable to pull it back. Caught up in his own feelings, he let her wrists go and felt them circle around him, holding him close. They kissed as though they had never kissed before, or would never want to kiss anyone else ever again. Their lips moved together as though they were made for each other. Maybe they were.

  Griffin hissed as Natasha’s nails cut into his back, moving inside of her as though he were trying to move through her, as though he were trying to pin her down.

  As though he were trying to make her stay.

  His fingers moved down to the place where they were joined, touching her gently, rubbing the hard, sensitive spot between her legs in order to bring her to climax one more time. Natasha could hear her own voice, pleading and desperate and wanting release.

  “Oh god, Griffin please let me, please!”

  In any other situation, Griffin would have grinned
and commented on how easy it had been to get what he wanted the second time around, but the beauty of her voice and the sincerity of her words made him forget any potential for smugness. All he wanted was her.

  Natasha shut her eyes, as the feeling crashed through her for the fourth time. It was far more intense than anything she had ever thought, and she cursed and screamed and rode through it all. Griffin, incredible in his own stamina, gasped in pleasure as her muscles constricted around him in her orgasm, a feeling that was incredible and brought him close to the edge.

  She could see it in him, and she kissed him gently.

  “Do it,” she said. “Do it for me.”

  Griffin moaned, and Natasha knew that he was close then.

  “Let go,” she heard herself whisper to him. He collapsed against her with a weight that felt like surrender, with a strangled cry that sounded like a benediction. She pressed her face into the curve of his neck and felt him breathe, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, and she felt his heartbeat jump under fingertips.