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twenty-six

MIRA

“I forgot to tell you,” I say as I stretch beside Griffin in the early morning sun, his glorious naked body wrapped around me. “Ed invited us to join his book club.”

A shiver works through my body as Griffin’s low chuckle makes his chest vibrate against mine. “Oh yeah? What do they like to read, thrillers or something?”

“Nope.” I try to suppress my giggle. “Fairy smut.”

I squeal when Griffin sits up in bed, causing me to roll off his chest. His hazel eyes glitter when he turns to look at me. “Shut up. Ed does not read fairy smut.”

“Oh, but he does. He and his friends, who, by the sound of it, are all older gentlemen.” I giggle at Griffin’s wide-eyed expression of pure excitement. “I told him you read romance, so he invited both of us to join.”

“Fuck yeah! I’ve been trying to get the guys to start a smutty book club with me, but the only one who even considered it was Ryder. Killjoys.” Griffin shakes his head. His eyes are still squinty from sleep, and his shaggy golden hair is sticking up in every direction, but god is he sexy.

I must make a small sound, because a moment later, Griffin leans over and nips at my neck. “Like what you see, wife?”

“Mm-hmm.” I do, I really do. Between the perfection of Griffin’s naked form beside me and the memories of all the ways he owned my body yesterday, I basically woke up horny. Which is why I was trying to distract myself with thoughts of old-guy book clubs, something that clearly backfired.

As Griffin’s long fingers cup one of my breasts, I instinctively reach for him. When my hand wraps around his hard shaft, he groans, and his grip on my breast tightens. “My husband is so sexy,” I murmur, more to myself than Griffin, but it makes his face light up in a luminescent smile.

“Say it again.”

I chuckle, stroking up and down his length. “You’re sexy.”

“Not that part,” he says with a choked voice. “The other part.”

Confused, I pinch my eyebrows together. “What other part?”

“The part where you called me your husband.”

Oh. Oh. Sweet, sweet man. I lean in and press a soft kiss to the scruff of his jaw. “My husband.” I kiss his cheek. “My husband.” His eyes flutter closed and I kiss him there. “My husband. Mine.”

The world spins, and I let out a squeak as Griffin flips me over onto my back. His eyes are blazing, multi-hued orbs of pure desire.

“Fuck, baby, hearing you call me that makes me so hard.” He presses his length against my lower belly to illustrate his point as he hovers over me, eyes locked on mine. “Are you sore, wifey?”

Am I sore? The man fucked me so hard and so thoroughly, I’m not actually sure I’m capable of standing. So yeah, I’m sore, but in the best way. “I’m not sore,” I lie.

Of course, Griffin notices my moment of hesitation. “Don’t lie to me, sunshine. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“What if I want to be hurt?” I ask, voice saccharine sweet.

Griffin groans and fists his cock. “Shit. My wife is such a perfect, needy little slut, aren’t you?”

I nod, moisture pooling between my thighs at the way he makes the word slut sound like the highest praise. If anyone else tried to call me that, I’d punch them in the balls. With Griffin, though? I know he’s not trying to make me feel small or dirty. Well, maybe a little dirty, but in the best way.

“Baby, there are so many ways I can please you and take you without making you more sore.” His fingers pluck and play with one of my nipples as his hips roll against mine.

“Oh, yeah?” I ask breathlessly. “Like what?”

“Well…” Griffin grins, and then I’m being flipped again, this time onto my belly.

Strong fingers grip my hips and pull my ass into the air.

I stare at my accidental husband over my shoulder while he palms my ass cheeks and rubs his shaft between them.

“Has anyone ever taken this perfect, round ass, sunshine?”

Oh, fuck. My core clenches. “No.”

“Mmm.” Griffin hums appreciatively, his palms smoothing over the globes of my ass before he spreads me and presses a thumb against the tight ring of muscles. “Never?”

I can’t even form words as he circles my asshole with his thumb.

All I can manage is to shake my head. The men I’ve been with before Griffin were…

vanilla. Lots of missionary, grunting, and quick fucks that didn’t always get me off.

Even if one of them had suggested we try something different, I’m not sure I would have trusted them to do something like take my ass. But Griffin? I trust him.

Griffin watches my reactions as he plays, notes the slight tensing of my body when his thumb starts to breach that tight ring of muscles, and leans forward to plant a kiss between my shoulder blades. “One day, I’m going to fuck this pretty ass.”

I whine as he pushes his thumb deeper. The sensation is different, but not bad.

“Relax, sunshine. We’ll have to work up to that. But only if you want to.” He starts to pump his thumb slowly in and out of me, and I’m surprised by how good it feels once I allow myself to relax into it. He grins when I gasp and tighten around him. “The things I’m going to do to you…”

“Yes,” I whine. I think I’d let him do just about anything to me and love it. With his thumb still in my ass, he runs his fingers through my dripping slit, and my stomach hollows out as I arch into him. “Oh, fuck.”

“Not this morning. Maybe tonight, if you’re not as sore. This morning, I’m going to eat my wife for breakfast.”

My eyes are screwed shut with pleasure as he presses a finger inside me, dragging it along my inner walls, both of my holes filled. It’s heady, and he’s not even using his dick. When he lowers his mouth to my pussy and starts to fuck me with his tongue, it feels like I’m floating.

Griffin presses my shoulders down with his free hand, arching my back even more while he devours me and fucks my ass with his thumb. Pleasure zips through my body like electrical currents, and already, my orgasm is building.

“Oh, god, babe. Oh, fuck.” I barely recognize my voice, it’s so breathless and needy.

“That’s it, sunshine, let me have it,” he coaxes, his voice muffled against my pussy. “Flood my mouth with your cum, baby.”

Then he eats me with abandon, his thumb still pumping in and out of me, and his other hand wraps around my hips and presses on my clit. And I explode.

Screaming into the mattress, I writhe and buck against Griffin’s mouth.

He’s relentless. The way he draws my orgasm out until I’m shaking, tears streaming down my face, my body overwhelmed with pleasure, is everything.

This man plays my body like a world-class musician, and I know he’s just getting started.

He finally pulls away when I beg him to stop, so sensitive that every new flick of his tongue has me shaking. Slowly, he pulls his thumb from my ass and gently flips me over onto my back.

Griffin’s mouth and chin are covered with my arousal, his eyes are heavy-lidded, and his dick is hard and leaking pre-cum. He licks his lips and levels me with a salacious grin. “Delicious.”

“Holy shit,” I murmur to myself. The man is a sex god. I married a sex god. This could be how things are for the rest of my life if I let myself fall for him and give in to this crazy chemistry between us.

Leaning forward, Griffin kisses me. “Come on, sunshine. Let’s get cleaned up, then I’ll take you out for breakfast. I want to spend as much time with you as I can before practice.”

“Okay,” I say, still a bit dazed. It makes Griffin chuckle.

Then he’s standing and pulling me into his arms. I squeak, grabbing hold of his neck, and enjoy the way his laughter vibrates through me as he carries me to the bathroom.

He sets me down, so I’m sitting on the cold countertop of the sink, and laughs harder when I let out another startled squeal.

“Sorry, baby. I’ll warm your ass up in a second.” He winks at me before turning on the shower and checking the water temperature.

“Not sure my ass can handle anything else this morning.” Heat floods my body at the look he gives me.

“Oh, I think your ass could handle plenty more with the right prep.”

When my thighs clench together, he totally notices.

With an ever-wider grin, and satisfied that the water temperature is perfect, Griffin lifts me off the sink, cradles me to his body, and pulls me under the spray.

Between the heat of his chest and the warmth of the water, my chilly ass is quickly forgotten.

“Don’t want to put you down,” he murmurs with his forehead resting against mine. “But I can’t wash my hair while I’m holding you.”

We wash quickly, trading heated kisses and teasing touches.

It’s…everything. This is what I always dreamed marriage could be like when I was a girl.

Okay, so I didn’t imagine butt stuff and smoking-hot sex, but the tenderness, the closeness, the undeniable feeling of safety?

Those, I imagined. The other stuff is merely a bonus.

It has my mind wandering to what the future with Griffin could look like.

I’ve been finding myself daydreaming about it a lot lately, and it still freaks me out a bit, but not nearly the way it did when we first woke up married.

I know Griffin doesn’t like that I’ve asked him to keep this a secret, and I hate that we’re lying to my brother and Isla, but I’m still not ready to let the world in.

I need to know my own mind before I invite the opinions of others.

The crazy thing is, I’m realizing that my mind, and heart, are softening to my accidental husband more and more each day.

That, when I picture being married, Jared’s stupid face isn’t even a shadow in my mind’s eye any longer.

No, when I picture waking up each morning next to someone, he’s blond with shaggy hair, an impeccable jawline, hazel eyes, and a scruffy jaw.

I think I did love Jared, in my own way, but those feelings have been so easily eclipsed by my feelings for Griffin that it’s clear Jared and I never would have had a lasting love.

But could Griffin and I? Is that what I want?

Can I let myself hope for that? He’s every woman’s dream, isn’t he?

Handsome, funny, so very kind, tall, muscular, supportive, smart…

the list goes on. But he was my brother’s best friend, so I never let myself picture him any other way.

Never thought he’d want me. I know Griffin believes he’s cursed, but I think he just dated shallow women who didn’t try to see past his easy smiles to the incredible depth beneath.

Some part of me is worried he has latched on to me because I have seen past the surface.

But I’m not the only woman who will. What happens when he meets someone prettier or richer or more interesting? Will I be enough?

I wasn’t for my dad.

“Hey.” Griffin palms my cheek. His voice is gentle as his hazel eyes search my face. “You’re thinking awfully hard right now. Want to talk about it?”

Shaking my head to clear it, I force a smile. What would I even say?

I think maybe I’m developing feelings for you, and I’m scared you’ll realize you settled for me, then leave like my dad did?

It sounds pathetic, even in my head.

“Nah,” I say instead. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Griffin frowns as his eyes bounce over my features. Hesitantly, he asks, “Do you regret it?”

My body jolts at the worry in his tone. “What?”

His cheeks flush pink and his shoulders tense. “Do you regret sleeping with me?”

Shit . “No, not even a little. Not for a second.” I press my palms to his chest and my heart twinges when I feel how fast his is racing. “I’m sorry. I got in my own head for a minute, but I swear I don’t regret anything. I’m really happy.” And that’s what worries me. “You make me happy.”

“You make me happy too,” he murmurs, eyes softening. My stomach decides this is the perfect moment to growl. He grins. “Really fucking happy, sunshine. Now, let’s dry off and get dressed so we can feed you. We don’t want a hangry Mira.”

“No,” I agree. “We really don’t.”