Chapter 9: Stolen Moments
The door clicked shut, Matt’s muffled footsteps fading down the hall. Cam sagged against the wood, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Griffin’s low chuckle vibrated against her spine where he still pressed close.
“Period cramps, huh?” His breath was hot on her neck, one hand sliding up her stomach, rough fingers skimming the edge of her crop top, finding bare skin. “Sounded pretty fucking convincing.”
She twisted, pressing her palms flat against his chest, feeling the solid warmth through his t-shirt. “Griffin! He could have heard!” Panic laced her whisper, warring with the electric current his touch sent sparking through her.
“He didn’t,” Griffin murmured, his voice thick, hypnotic. His other hand slid down, cupping her ass through the thin cotton of her shorts, pulling her hard against him. She felt the rigid length of his erection, undeniable even through layers of denim. “But I heard you. That little squeal.” He dipped his head, nuzzling the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “Sounded fucking perfect.”
The sheer, illicit thrill of it – Matt just outside, her family laughing distantly on the deck below, rain drumming a frantic rhythm on the window, and Griffin, hard and wanting, pinning her against the door – sent a bolt of pure need between her legs. Her breath hitched. “It was... you startled me,” she managed, but the protest was weak, her body arching subtly into his.
“Did I?” His lips trailed down her neck, tracing the line of her collarbone. His hand left her ass, sliding around her hip, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her shorts, then her panties. “Tell me to stop, Cam,” he breathed, his warm brown eyes intense, searching hers. The pad of his finger brushed the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs.
She couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. She shook her head, a tiny, desperate movement. No. Don’t stop.
His fingertip slid lower, parting her folds, finding the slick heat waiting. A low groan rumbled in his chest. “Jesus, Cam. You’re so fucking wet.” He rubbed slowly, deliberately, right through the soaked fabric of her underwear, circling the swollen nub hidden within. Her knees buckled. She gasped, a sharp, punched-out sound, and slammed a hand over her own mouth, eyes wide. Griffin’s gaze darkened further, possessive, approving. He pressed harder, his rhythm insistent, pulling another choked whimper from her throat.
“Shh,” he soothed, though his own breathing was ragged. “Quiet now. Just feel it.” Keeping the pressure on her clit with one hand trapped against her, he stepped back slightly. His other hand went to the button of her shorts, yanked it open, pushed them and her damp panties down her thighs in one rough motion. Cool air kissed the exposed heat between her legs. She felt wildly vulnerable, exposed. Before she could protest, before she could think, Griffin dropped to his knees. His hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin.
He didn’t hesitate. He buried his face between her legs.
His tongue was hot and broad and demanding, licking a long, slow stripe from her opening all the way up to her throbbing clit. Cam cried out, the sound muffled by her own hand still clamped over her mouth. Her head thudded back against the door. It was shocking. Raw. Intimate beyond anything she’d imagined. The warmth, the wetness, the sheer directness of his mouth on the most private part of her. He licked again, circling her entrance, tasting her, then flicked his tongue hard over her clit. Pleasure, sharp and bright, lanced through her.
“Fuck,” Griffin breathed against her, his voice thick with her arousal. “You taste so goddamn good, Cam.” He sealed his lips around her clit and sucked, hard. Her vision whited out. She moaned, high and desperate, into her palm, her free hand tangling in his soft brown hair, holding him there. He groaned, the vibration echoing through her core. He plunged his tongue into her, deep and fast, fucking her with it, then returned to her clit, sucking, licking, teasing it relentlessly with the very tip. His fingers dug harder into her hips, keeping her spread open, pinned against the door for his mouth. The wet sounds were obscene, mingling with the rain and her own stifled gasps. Sweat prickled her skin. Her entire world narrowed to this point, to the insistent pull of his mouth, the heat coiling tighter and tighter low in her belly. She was trembling all over, each nerve ending alight. “Griffin,” she whimpered, a broken sound. “I... I can’t...” I can’t hold on.
He looked up at her, his lips glistening, his eyes burning with a dark fire. “Let go, Cam,” he commanded, his voice rough gravel. “Come in my fucking mouth.” And he dove back in, sucking her clit hard, tongue flicking rapidly over the swollen bud while one thick finger, slick with her wetness, pushed slowly, deliberately, inside her tight, virgin cunt. The stretch was intense, burning slightly, a shocking fullness that melded instantly with the blinding pleasure from his mouth. He curled the finger deep inside her, finding a spot that made her cry out sharply. He added a second finger, stretching her wider, deeper, fucking her with them in time with the relentless suction on her clit. The dual assault was overwhelming. Sensation detonated. Pleasure ripped through Cam like a lightning strike, fierce and uncontrollable. Her back arched off the door. A raw, guttural sob tore from her throat as she shattered, clenching hard around his fingers, her thighs clamping around his head as wave after wave of pure, searing ecstasy crashed over her. She pulsed against his mouth, her vision dissolving into sparks. Griffin held her through it, sucking and licking gently now, drawing out every last tremor, his warm eyes watching her face as she fell apart.
His thumb pressed hard circles on her clit while his fingers relentlessly fucked her swollen cunt. "Come, Cam!" Griffin growled against her wet flesh, the vibration tearing a ragged scream from her throat as her orgasm ripped through her, wave after dizzying wave. She sagged against the barrel, trembling, his tongue lapping gently now as her inner muscles clenched weakly around his fingers. He rose slowly, his cock straining obscenely against his damp jeans, and hauled her against him, kissing her deeply, letting her taste her own pleasure mixed with his lingering spend. "Bed," he rasped, the word thick and final against her lips. "Now."
The trek back through the rain-lashed vineyard to the cottage was a blur of cold air stinging heated skin and Griffin’s strong arm anchoring her close. Inside, the dim warmth felt alien after the cellar’s primal chill. He guided her wordlessly past the dying embers in the hearth, down a narrow hall to a small bedroom smelling faintly of cedar and dust. "Get in," he instructed, stripping off his wet shirt and jeans with rough efficiency, his thick cock jutting proudly as he kicked his clothes aside.
Too exhausted for modesty, her body humming and aching, Cam peeled off her soaked dress and damp underwear, leaving them in a puddle on the wooden floor. She slid between cool linen sheets, shivering. Griffin followed immediately, the mattress dipping, his large, warm body a furnace radiating heat as he pulled her back against his chest. One arm curled possessively around her waist, his palm splayed low on her bare stomach, his hardness pressed firmly against the curve of her ass. "Sleep," he murmured into her damp hair, his breath already deepening.
Sometime deep in the pitch-black quiet, Cam stirred. Griffin’s heavy arm still anchored her, but his breathing had changed. It hitched, shallow and uneven against the back of her neck. The hand on her stomach shifted, sliding lower, fingertips brushing the soft curls between her legs. A low groan rumbled in his chest, vibrating through her. He wasn’t fully awake, but his body was.
His hips moved almost imperceptibly at first, a slow, instinctive roll that pressed the thick ridge of his cock harder against her ass, sliding through the slickness that had gathered anew while she slept. The friction sparked a jolt of heat low in her belly. "Griff…?" she whispered, her voice thick with sleep.
He grunted in response, his hand slipping lower, palm cupping her mound, his middle finger finding her entrance and dipping inside with a slick sound. "Fuck, baby," he mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep and need. "So wet already." His hips pushed forward more deliberately now, the hard length of him grinding against the cleft of her ass, seeking her heat.