Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
When I can see again, I find her grinning happily, obviously proud of herself. I run my thumb over her lips, gathering the mess of our mixed bodily fluids that escaped, and slip my thumb into her mouth, feeding it to her. She sucks it clean, grinning even more now. “Still got another one in you, Honey?”
I shake my head. “Don’t call me that. That’s for them.” I wave a hand toward the door, indicating the rest of the world. “To you, I’m Griffin. Or asshole or bastard or whatever you want to call me when I fuck up.”
“Griffin.” She sounds like that’s it, the only thing she’ll ever call me. “And you didn’t answer the question.”
“Woman, flip over and get on all fours.”
She claps her hands. Literally claps at the order and arranges herself, her knees on the couch cushion and her hands on the back before flipping her hair over her shoulder to look at me with a smile. I take myself in hand, giving my cock a few encouraging strokes, but I’m ready to go. Years of fantasizing about this are nothing compared to the reality of Penny.
Stepping up behind her, I tease my cock along her entrance, testing to see if she’s still wet enough for me, and find her still soaked. “You liked sucking me off?”
She nods eagerly. “I told you, you’re mine. That was like me claiming you, which is powerful as fuck.”
I get it. It’s not about being the one doing the moving—it’s about being the one giving the pleasure. It’s the same way I feel about her riding my face and my fingers. And my cock.
Thrusting in slowly, inch by inch, I fill her, soaking up every moment of the feeling of her wrapped around me. “God, you look good on my cock.” I grip her hips, giving us both a few shallow strokes.
When she arches her back for more, I begin to thrust a bit faster, then harder and deeper until I’m roughly fucking her and we’re both panting with need. I spit on my fingertips and reach around her hip to find her clit.
She whines, and I think it’s something like, “Again?”
“You can take it. Take it all. It’s yours,” I grit out. “I’m yours.”
“Griffin!” she cries out at the same time I feel her pussy clamp down on me. The quivering flutters of her walls are too much for me to withstand, and my head falls back, my eyes close, and I shatter into a million pieces. Sparkles of light dance behind my lids and the world disappears as a dull roar fills my ears. It feels like forever, or maybe a moment, and I think that’s what life with Penny will be like—an eternity in a second and a lifetime gone by in the blink of an eye. I can’t wait.
As my awareness comes back to here and now, I realize I’m panting hard and Penny is resting her head on the back of the couch, looking over her shoulder at me. Surely I’ll get a wow this time, because whatever the hell that was, it sure as fuck wasn’t sex. Or at least not any that I’ve ever had. Unless maybe I’ve been doing it wrong my whole life? But no, it’s probably just because it’s finally Penny. Surely she’s as rocked as I am.
“Where’d you say those Thin Mints were? After that, I’m absolutely starving. And don’t say you’ve got something for me to eat.” She holds up a warning finger, glaring at me.
I wasn’t even thinking that. I don’t think I’m thinking anything yet. My brain’s going dooooooo like it does after a bad scuffle, like ear-ringing static, but in a good way. But if Penny wants cookies, Penny gets cookies.
“Hang on. I’ll get ’em.”
“Good boy,” she teases, her brow arched high.
Death of me and Penelope Lee—same thing, and I love it.
Chapter 28
Penny
Where do I sit? Things are so different now that I’m not sure. Do I take my usual seat at our usual table at our usual pregame dinner place, Pro-Bowl, where Dom will be at my side and Griffin would be across from me? Is that part of their superstitions, which preclude any change for the duration of the playoffs that begin tomorrow? Or do they switch places now that Griffin and I are together so that we’re the ones sitting side by side? Or should I sit in the chair next to Griffin?
I instantly dismiss that last option because I like being able to see the whole restaurant from the booth side of the table. So I sit where I always do, deciding the guys can figure out their spots themselves.
Apparently, they have none of the worries I did, easily falling into their seats. Except this time, Griffin’s foot is touching mine beneath the table. I glance at him to find him grinning at me wolfishly. “You could sit in my lap if you’d rather?”