“You need a lot of things,” I say, already breathless. “Like a Dragon. That doesn’t mean you’ll get one.”
“I don’t give a Centaur’s balls about a Dragon right now.”
“Griffin! Language!”
“Are you trying to sound like my mother?” he growls against my neck.
“Is it like a bucket of ice?”
He picks me up and tosses me onto the bed. “What do you think?”
I land with an undignified grunt. I think not.
He crawls on top of me, pins my arms above my head, and plants his mouth on my breast, sucking my nipple right through my dress. I yelp and twist, pleasure exploding under his mouth. Desire arcs through me. I pull on my hands, wanting to touch him, but Griffin’s grip tightens as he uses his teeth to pull down the neckline of my gown. My breasts pop out, pushed up like an offering. We both stare at the bare skin, at the dark peaks. Then he dips his head and licks one nipple. Heat rushes to my belly. He swirls his tongue over the taut bud before turning to the other side and sucking hard enough to lift me off the bed. I gasp, the drag of his mouth stirring an aching pull deep inside me.
I arch toward him, already damp with arousal. His erection presses against the most intimate part of me, sparking hot jolts of sensation every time he moves. He sucks, licks, and rocks while I writhe under him, my trapped hands curling into fists. Mindlessness sets in, feeling driving away thought.
Griffin lifts his head and lets go of my wrists. His callused fingers slide down my arms, adding a thrilling roughness to his unhurried touch. I tangle my fingers in his hair, powerless against the brewing storm and the heat and tension building between us. I wrap my legs around his hips because this fully clothed, grinding closeness isn’t nearly close enough. I long for him. I want him filling the empty, throbbing place between my thighs.
His lips find mine again, kissing me deeply. “You want me,” he rasps against my mouth. “I feel it in your body. Hear it in your breath.”
Emotion overwhelms me. His words are so intimate. And true. His hips press down on mine. Most of his weight is on his forearms, his biceps a steely cage. I touch his shoulders, feeling tension there. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“This is right,” he argues. “I know it.”
His kisses turn feverish, his tongue demanding. His tunic drags over my sensitized nipples, and it’s all I can do not to rip it off him in order to feel his bare skin on mine. I slip my hands under the fabric, smoothing my palms over his broad back. His skin is like sun-warmed marble, and there’s a delectable dip in the muscle along his spine. I trace the indent with my fingertips, marveling at the sheer physical power above me.
Griffin drops his forehead to mine. “You’re going to have to be a lot more convincing if you want me to stop.”
I try to quiet my breathing. “I have to convince myself first.”
“Don’t,” he urges. “We’re fated. You must know that.”
My throat tightens, starting to ache. “I can’t do this.”
“Why?” His question is a growl.
I have so many reasons, so many fears. “She’ll come after our children.”
He lifts his head. “I’ll protect them. I’ll protect you.” He frowns. “You’ll protect them, and I don’t see much of anything getting past you.”
A sudden sting hits the back of my eyes. “She’ll use them to get to me. She’ll use you.” A fierce protectiveness surges through me. I don’t even have kids, and I’m ready to sacrifice anything for them.
Griffin holds my face in his hands. His thumbs sweep across my cheeks. “I can take care of myself, and we don’t even have children, at least not yet. And she doesn’t need to know if we do. How would she even know?”
I laugh. It’s a little shaky. “You think I won’t bleed? It’s already challenging enough just getting rid of—” I blush until even my ears burn. “Monthly…stuff.”
His brow knits. At least he’s taking me seriously. “If it comes to that, we’ll go somewhere else and then come back with the baby.” He kisses me quick and hard, trying to reassure me.
“But kids bleed all the time—scraped knees, busted lips. Their blood will be my blood. She’ll know. She’ll take them.”
“Some people don’t even have children,” Griffin says. “It just doesn’t happen.”
I shake my head. “I can’t count on that.”
His mouth flattens, making his jaw muscles bulge. “There are methods. Herbs. Sheaths. I could pull out.”
In my inexperience, those things hadn’t occurred to me, but I know what Griffin means. Irrational disappointment washes through me. It’s ridiculous, and dangerous, but I can already see little dark heads running around the castle, tiny Griffins with black hair, aquiline noses, wide mouths, and green, Fisan eyes. They’re tugging on Egeria’s skirts, playing games with Kaia, climbing all over Flynn and Kato, and getting medicated into stupors by Nerissa’s herbs.
“Live your life,” Griffin says. “For yourself. For me. We’ll deal with Andromeda when we have to.”
I look up at him, a battle raging between my heart and my head. I finally close my eyes against the heat in Griffin’s gaze. I feel him sit up, kneeling between my thighs. He’s going to leave me, and I desperately want to pull him back.
His fingers graze my exposed breasts, sending shivers through me. Then I hear a colossal rip, and my eyes fly open.
“That was my realm dinner dress!” I only wore it tonight to make sure it didn’t need any final alterations before the party. I had it specifically made to fit my new stick figure, and he tore it clean in half!
“I’ll take you to the agora tomorrow.”
“You don’t have time for that!”
“I’ll make time.” His voice rough, his eyes devour me as his fingers feather down my flat stomach and over the now-rather-bony flare of my hips. Disquiet and desire quiver in my belly in equal measures. My skin heats to his touch.
Griffin slowly and deliberately unhooks my shoulder straps, freeing my arms from the destroyed dress. I think he’s waiting for me to protest. When I don’t, he gets a fierce look on his face and pulls me up so that I’m kneeling in front of him. Every caress is like a lick of flame on my naked body—my shoulders, my back, my hips, and my bottom, which he squeezes hard, pulling me against him. His lips part on a low, hoarse sound, and then his hands move back up my front, palming my breasts and gently abrading my nipples.
“Harder,” I moan, needing his hands to ease the growing turmoil inside me. I want him everywhere. I burn for him in places he hasn’t even touched.
He rolls my nipples between his fingers and then pinches them with just enough force to spark a delicious ache. My breathing accelerates. My eyes flutter closed as he kisses my neck, lingering where I’m most sensitive. He nips and sucks, and the wings inside my chest unfold and beat to a familiar rhythm that’s become a part of me. A part of us.
Griffin’s mouth moves back to mine, hungry. I dive into the kiss, sliding my hands under his tunic and up the wide expanse of his chest, finally giving in to the need to touch him, to learn his body, to know every intimate dip and steely curve.
While I’m exploring, he breaks the kiss and slowly unravels my braid, spreading my hair around my shoulders. He rubs a dark curl between his fingertips, and my heart thuds against my ribs. He looks at me like he might not be able to breathe without me—like maybe he wouldn’t even want to. I suddenly feel the weight of the world on my shoulders like never before.
It’s too much.
When I ran, I didn’t just run from my family; I ran from responsibility. The day Griffin came into my life, it came back—him, Beta Team, his family, the realm itself…
I don’t want this.
I don’t want this.
One more time and I might convince myself…
“Take off my tunic,
” Griffin orders gruffly.
My pulse surges in my ears, whooshing like a cyclone. I’m so close. So close to…making myself more vulnerable than ever?
Bitterness sweeps through me. I close my eyes. My hands fall to my sides. I can’t do this. I can’t dig Griffin’s grave.
A stormy ocean rages to life behind my closed eyelids. Lightning bolts split the sky. Ragged, blinding trails of light reflect off chaotic waves as an enormous, dark trident rises from the depths, cascading foaming seawater and Olympian power.
I almost gasp out loud. “Now? Really?”
“You reject our gift!” Poseidon’s voice is an angry tempest in my head.
“Griffin? A gift from the Gods? I’d better not tell him that, or I’ll be hearing about it for the rest of my days.”
“We gave him to you!” my God Father explodes. He’s mighty and terrifying. He doesn’t appreciate my humor.
“Why?”
Poseidon gives me the same answer he gave before. “Healing.”
“I don’t know what that means!”
The storm vanishes along with the trident, the lightning, and the waves.
The husky rumble of Griffin’s voice brings me back to the room. “Agapi mou?”
His love. I open my eyes. The man before me fills my vision. He fills my heart.
Griffin’s jaw is set sternly. He gives me that hard stare of his. “Stop questioning. Just take off my shirt.”
If I undress him, am I giving my consent? I think so, and I’m petrified, but I do it anyway. Andromeda took my childhood. She took my dog. She took my nurse. She took my sister. She probably even took a chunk of my sanity. I won’t let her deprive me of Griffin and a family of my own—a happy one, if I can help it. And for some reason, the Gods want us to join. Poseidon couldn’t have been clearer. I’ve never gone against his wishes. It would be really stupid to start now.
I take a deep breath and pull off Griffin’s tunic. He somehow manages to look relieved and alarmingly intense at the same time.
I swallow, nervous. “I might not live up to your expectations.”
He takes my hands and puts them back on his chest, my palms flat. His skin is hot and smooth over chiseled muscle. “I doubt that.”
I flush at his gravelly tone and slide my hands over his torso, my fingers bumping over the hard ridges of his abdomen. He groans even though I haven’t really done anything, the sound a raw mix of need and strained control. My heartbeat turns erratic, pounding with fear, excitement, and want. I lean forward and kiss him. The tips of my breasts sway against his chest, and my nipples stiffen.
Griffin’s hands clamp around my waist. He lifts me into him to deepen the kiss, and I wrap one hand around his neck and slip the other downward. My nails brush his erection through his clothes, and it jumps in response, surprising me. A nervous flutter ricochets around my belly. I want to touch him, please him. I tug open his pants, take him in my hand, and cautiously squeeze.
A harsh breath explodes across my cheek. Griffin goes still, seeming to forget he was kissing me. I glance down at his arousal. The skin is soft, but he’s steely hard. It’s a rather amazing contradiction. I carefully run my hand up and down his thick length, marveling at my discovery. I do it again, this time brushing my thumb over the blunt tip and feeling a bead of moisture there.
Griffin tenses. He backs away and then removes the rest of his clothing with his typical speed. When he’s done, his enormous erection juts out at me. It’s hard not to be intimidated by it. I can’t stop staring.
I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“It’ll work.”
His smoldering gaze travels over me. I’m kneeling naked on the bed, my hair loose, my skin flushed, and my nipples hard. I stop breathing as I look at him, taking in his trim waist, hard thighs, and crisp hair. I reach out and trace the ridge of muscle making an indent near his hip.
Griffin’s eyes blaze, and he topples me over with a hearty push. I fall back, confused, and then squeak when he grabs me behind the knees and drags me to the edge of the bed. Before I have any idea what he’s doing, he kneels on the floor and lowers his mouth between my legs.
“Griffin!” I jump, but his hands are on my hips, holding me down.
“Relax.” His voice vibrates against me. Through me. His tongue sweeps up, parting my folds and hitting my sensitive nerve endings. My eyes go wide as the most incredible sensation spirals around my body. Then he sucks, sending a sharp burst of pleasure through me. Light flashes. Thunder rattles the bed. My mouth drops open, and my head falls back. I moan, my knees spreading wide.
“That’s it, agapi mou. Just like that.” He licks, flicks, and sucks, driving me wild. Tension coils under his mouth, tightening in my core. I pant and buck, curling my fingers into his dark hair, and then mindlessly gripping the rumpled sheets. While I thrash, Griffin slips a finger inside me, slowly stroking. I gasp, overwhelmed, and yet wanting more. A second finger joins the first, stretching me and sliding into a rhythm that threatens to undo me. Tingles and jolts rush up and down the length of my body, almost painfully intense. I writhe on his hand, under his mouth, trying to relieve the pressure.
“Griffin. Griffin! It’s too much.” He has to stop. I want. I ache. I’m unraveling, and I don’t know what to do.
“Let go, kardia mou. It’s all right.”
With another long, swirling sweep of his tongue, I shatter. The climax is explosive. It shakes me like an earthquake, throwing me off balance and straight into an abyss of pure pleasure. I tumble over the edge, shuddering with wave after wave of pulsing ecstasy. I don’t do anything ridiculous like scream. It’s worse. I mewl like a kitten and moan, “Oh my Gods” over and over again.
As the ripples subside, slowly fading, I open unfocused eyes, pretty sure that was the best natural disaster ever to hit the realms.
Still gripping my hips, Griffin sets his mouth on me again, sending an aftershock through me that makes my entire body curl in pleasure. I mewl—again—and he looks up, grinning.
My breath shudders. “Don’t look so smug.”
“Why not?” He stands up, towering over me.
My eyes automatically dip to his arousal. I scramble back, shaking off some of my stupor. “It wasn’t that good,” I lie through my teeth.
He laughs and crawls on top of me. “Then it’s a good thing there’s more to come.”
He settles heavily between my thighs, his hips spreading my legs apart. Anxiety hits me again, and I push on my heels, scooting back.
Griffin’s head jerks up. His hand lands on my stomach, pressing down. Holding my gaze, he moves forward again, repositioning himself without going farther. He waits. I could kick, punch, scream, bite, or just plain get up and walk away.
The strain in his face tells me how much he wants me. His restraint tells me how much he cares. I look into his storm-cloud eyes, and I can’t resist. I angle my hips up until his hot tip presses against my core.
He slowly exhales. His eyes close and then open again. He slides forward, pushing gradually inside. His thickness stretches me with an uncomfortable pressure. My nostrils flare, and I tense. The stretch turns into a burn.
Griffin stops, waiting for me to adjust. “Relax.” He kisses me between labored breaths. “It’ll get better.”
He wants me to relax, but he doesn’t sound relaxed at all. Perspiration dots his brow. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen him sweat. He’s right, though. It does get better—until he moves again.
Griffin braces his weight on his forearms, his muscles tense and bulging. Every so often, a tremor runs through him. His face is drawn in rigid lines. He doesn’t look like he’s enjoying this part any more than I am, so I turn my head and kiss the inside of his arm, inhaling his unique blend of salt, sunshine, and citrus.
He thrusts into me while I’m distracted, an
d I gasp, the last barrier between us broken.
Griffin drops his head into the curve of my neck. The sound that hisses between his teeth makes me wonder if he’s in pain. I know I am.
He stays still, buried deep. Then his mouth finds mine again, kissing me until my body molds to his. I eventually find myself wiggling, relaying my renewed interest, and Griffin answers with a slow, controlled thrust that generates a breathtaking friction. When I moan, he presses deeper, stretching me farther. My knees come up as he rocks above me. The desire that faded with the discomfort ignites again in an instant.
Griffin’s groan heats my lips. Our breath mingles, carrying short pants and sounds of pleasure. His steady rhythm and long, deep strokes drive me to the edge of reason. My body coils tight, straining for release. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him with all the passion of the Furies. My hips rise to meet his, and he grinds down on me, hitting sensitized, throbbing nerves.
I cry out, tension gathering in my core. I pulse around him, on the verge of shattering again.
Just when I’m almost there, Griffin stops moving and traps my face between his hands, capturing my eyes with his. His voice drops to a low, fierce growl. “I claim you.” He draws back and then thrusts hard, filling me completely. “I claim you.”
Even as I burn for release, my heart nearly bursts. I understand this southern rite now. He’s not so much declaring possession of me as asserting my right to him. Forever.
I nod and touch his cheek, accepting his gift of devotion and protection. Griffin’s eyes flare a heated silver. He drops his mouth to mine for a bruising kiss before driving into me, faster, harder. The sensations inside me build to an unbearable level. I throw my legs around his waist and sink my fingers into his back, meeting his almost brutal thrusts with a wildness of my own.
Griffin slips a hand under me and slams me up at a new angle, pounding deep into my core. I convulse with a shout, mewling all over again. A bright light flashes from me, and thunder rolls through the room. Griffin stills, seeing and hearing it, too, and breathing hard while I pulse around him. Explosive pleasure radiates from my center in hot, throbbing beats. His splayed fingers tighten on my bottom, and he grinds our bodies together, his sudden roughness taking my climax to a devastating level. The orgasm spills through me again, agonizingly sweet.
A Promise of Fire Page 32
