Page 26

twenty-five

. . .

Avery

There’s nothing like that deep, sweaty slumber you fall into during a late afternoon nap—the kind that pulls you under, heavy and dreamless, making it impossible to tell what time it is when you wake up.

And there’s definitely nothing like waking up after finally hooking up with your best friend’s brother.

Except, technically, we havn’t completely hooked up.

Not yet.

I’m floating somewhere between sleep and awareness, my body warm, heavy, content, tucked into something solid and steady. There’s a distant part of me that already knows what’s happening, but my brain isn’t fully catching up yet—like I’m hovering in that sweet, hazy space between dreaming and waking.

Then I feel it.

Griffin’s arm, draped heavily across my waist. His breath, slow and steady against my shoulder.

And…something else.

Something firm and unmistakable pressing against my backside.

I’ve felt this before.

But this time feels different, because sex is very much on the table.

My heart skips a beat, my entire body waking up all at once.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

A slow, treacherous heat creeps down my spine, my skin tingling as my pulse hammers against my ribs.

I’m suddenly very, very aware of every inch of him behind me. Of the way his chest rises and falls in time with mine, the way his fingers are curled loosely against my stomach, dangerously close to where I’m already burning.

I should move. I need to move.

But I don’t.

Instead, I let myself feel it. Just for a second.

Because here’s the thing—I knew this was coming.

Even if I hadn’t admitted it out loud, even if I’d spent the past few days lying to myself, pretending that this was just a vacation thing, just harmless tension, I knew.

I’d known from the second I saw him in the airplane, smirking like he already knew exactly how this was going to play out.

And now we’re here.

Together. In the same bed.

And he’s hard against me. Again.

A groggy, low noise rumbles against my shoulder, vibrating through my skin. He shifts slightly, adjusting just enough for me to feel it again—solid, insistent, impossible to ignore.

I bite down on my lip, my thighs clenching instinctively before I can stop them.

“Fuuck, Avery.” He lets out a sleepy groan, his voice thick and gravelly. “I want to fuck you so bad right now. How wet are you?”

“Really fucking wet.”

He shifts slightly, and I feel it again—solid, unyielding, and utterly impossible to ignore. Heat blooms low in my stomach, and my thoughts spiral into dangerous territory. What would it be like to actually feel all of him? To let go for once, let him take control?

"Tell me you want me, Avery," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers slide lower, dipping between my thighs, and I arch against him, unable to help myself. "Say the words."

"I fucking want you," I gasp, my voice trembling as his touch grows firmer, more insistent. “So fucking bad.”

"Good girl," he mutters, his lips curling into a wicked smile against my neck. In one smooth motion, he flips me onto my back, the blanket slipping away as the late afternoon sunlight streams in through the curtains.

“I’m gonna fucking give it to you, Avery. Fuck, you look perfect.” He slides his hands over my breasts, leaning down to kiss me.

“God, yeah,” I moan.

I look up at him, momentarily dazed by the sight of him hovering over me. His green eyes blaze with intensity, his messy hair catching the sunlight, and there’s that massive, intimidating third leg.

He reaches into the drawer by the bed, pulling out a condom, and my brows knit together as he tears it open. "Since you’re a virgin…" I start hesitantly, "are you okay with no barrier? I just got tested before I left."

He pauses, his gaze searching mine. "You sure?"

I nod, my cheeks flushing. "I’m on the pill."

He tosses the condom aside, his lips brushing against mine as he positions himself between my legs.

God damn .

“You’ve got a great cock.”

“The better to fuck you with, Princess.”

“Griffin. Fuck me. You’ve never used that on someone?”

“Nope. I’ve been waiting for you, baby,” he says with a grin. Leaning toward my face and hovering over me for a moment, he whispers in a low growl. “Now you’re going to watch as I open you up, and ruin you Avery.”

“Yes, please.”

His hand slides down, guiding himself to my entrance, and I feel my body tense as he presses in a few inches.

"Relax, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "I’ve got you."

I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as my body adjusts to him. With his size the stretch is intense, and yet, the pleasure is almost immediate—a slow, building ache that leaves me breathless. My head spins as he pushes deeper, his movements deliberate and controlled, giving me just enough to keep me on the edge.

“Jesus,” I gasp, my voice breaking as a wave of pleasure rolls through me. I feel dazed, slap-happy with sensation, my body trembling beneath him as he leans down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that steals what little air I have left. “That fucking thing. You. ”

He presses in a little further, his body flush against mine, and I think I might actually lose my mind from how good he feels. The stretch, the fullness—it’s overwhelming in the best way, sending sparks along every nerve in my body.

“Holy fuuuuuck ,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice low and rough as his eyes hood over. His hands glide over my sides, his touch firm yet reverent, like he’s afraid I might disappear if he lets go.

My fingers dig into his shoulders, clinging to him as he moves, slow and deliberate. Each thrust sends a new ripple of heat coursing through me, and I arch against him, desperate for more.

I gasp, my voice breaking as a wave of pleasure rolls through me. I feel dazed, slap-happy with sensation, my body trembling beneath him as he leans down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that steals what little air I have left.

He presses in a little further, his body flush against mine, and I think I might actually lose my mind from how good he feels. The stretch, the fullness—it’s overwhelming in the best way, sending sparks along every nerve in my body.

"You feel so damn good, Avery. Christ. This is heaven. Your pussy is fucking heaven.”

For a moment, he stills, his breath ragged against my neck. His green eyes lock onto mine, and for all his confidence, there’s something else behind them—a flicker of uncertainty.

I brush my fingers through his hair, trying to steady my own racing pulse.

Relief flickers across his face, and he lets out a shaky breath, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish smile before he leans down to kiss me again. He’s slow, deliberate, as though he’s memorizing the feel of me beneath him.

He picks up the pace, and my hips gyrate underneath him as he pumps, long, slow and thick.

“Slow down…you’re a big boy,” I gasp. “Easy.”

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes him, and the sound vibrates through my chest.

“I just want to absolutely ravish you though.”

“Let me get used to you.”

He slows his pace, his gaze locked onto mine, watching— studying —every reaction I give him. His thrusts are deep, measured, deliberate, like he wants me to feel every inch of him, like he wants to brand himself into me.

And fuck—he’s so good.

Like, porn star-level, elite sex god good. Every fantasy I’ve ever had about Griffin—yes, I admit it—is coming true and then some. He moves like he already knows my body, like he’s spent years imagining this exact moment.

My breath catches, and I clench around him, my nails biting into his shoulders.

“Griffin…” My voice is barely more than a whimper. “How do you…know what to do if I’m your first?”

His eyes darken, his grip tightening at my hips, his abs flexing as he holds himself back.

“I’ve only fantasized about fucking you about a thousand times,” he whispers, his grin turning crooked, filthy, devastating. “But I’m so comfortable with you, you make it easy, baby. Can I pick up the pace yet?”

Fuck.

I can barely breathe. My eyebrows flutter, my head falling back, and I offer a subtle nod—but it’s not enough for him.

Griffin grabs my chin, forcing my gaze back to him. “Words, Sinclair. They’re your friend.”

His voice is low, commanding, sending a shiver straight down my spine.

“Fuck me, Griff. Fuck me hard. Fuck me however you want with that big thing.”

He speeds his pace, and staring into my eyes, grips both of my asscheeks and he buries himself to the hilt.

Biting my ear. “How does it feel to be taking every inch of me?”

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

Pleasure crashes through me, sharp and overwhelming, my release pouring through me in waves just from the way he’s looking at me—his chiseled body, red-faced and wrecked, his thick cock stretching me just right, his hands gripping me like he never wants to let go.

I cry out, arching beneath him, my thighs trembling as I pulse around him, and his jaw tightens as he groans low in his throat, his control hanging by a thread.

I barely manage to catch my breath, my cheeks burning, my body still shaking.

His lips curl into a satisfied smirk, but his eyes are pure fire.

“Your pussy is fucking perfect. You take me so well, baby.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, and then he moves, his hips pressing forward, and I feel myself stretch around him, my body adjusting inch by inch. He’s slow, deliberate, and the tension between us grows with every movement.

His jaw tightens, and his breath catches as he presses deeper. “Yeah, that’s it,” he groans, his voice breaking. "You feel incredible."

I cling to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders, both of us trembling as he moves inside me. There’s something raw, almost sacred about this—about the way he watches me, the way his hands never stop moving, stroking my sides, my thighs, caressing my ass—as though he’s afraid to let go.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice a little unsteady.

I nod, my lips parting on a shaky breath. "Yes. Just…take your time."

He leans down, his forehead resting against mine, and I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back to make this perfect for me. And it is. Every careful thrust, every brush of his lips against my skin—it’s all perfect.

"You’re so sexy right now,” he murmurs, his voice soft and reverent, like he’s speaking a truth he can’t keep inside. “Cheeks all red and everything. I don’t think I’ll ever get over this."

The words hit me harder than they should, sending a shockwave straight through me, and I blink up at him, my chest tightening.

I’m about to say something, but whatever I was going to say gets lost in the sound of him—the deep, gritty groan that escapes his throat as he moves again, his hips finding a rhythm that has me arching against him, desperate for more.

The room is filled with it—the soft, wet slap of skin, the ragged sound of our breathing, the gravelly, uneven curses Griffin lets out under his breath.

“Yes, baby,” he groans, his control slipping just enough to make his movements more confident, more deliberate. His voice is low, rough, wrecked, like he’s feeling every inch of this just as much as I am.

A shudder rolls through me again, and I whimper, my nails dragging down his back as he leans in, his lips brushing my jaw, my ear, his breath hot and heavy against my skin.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” he murmurs, his voice gravel-thick, laced with need. “Tell me everything.”

I suck in a sharp breath, my entire body clenching around him, drowning in the sounds of us, in the way he makes me feel like I’m unraveling from the inside out.

“So good,” I moan, my voice breaking, not even caring how desperate I sound. “Faster. Deeper.”

“Avery,” he says, leaning down for a kiss. “Watch.”

He grunts, low and primal, and then—he gives me exactly what I want as he looks down at where he’s sliding in and out of me. Damn that’s a sight.

His lips curve into a grin, and the sight of it—of him, so raw and unguarded—makes my chest ache. He presses deeper, his pace quickening, and the tension inside me builds higher and higher, every nerve stretched taut, until it feels like I’m going to break apart beneath him.

"Let go," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear. "I’ve got you, Avery. Let it all hang out.”

His words tip me over the edge, and I cry out, my body arching beneath him as the world shatters around me. Pleasure crashes over me again in waves, sharp and consuming, leaving me trembling and breathless.

“Griff. Oh my good God,” I gasp, my voice breaking as my nails drag down his back. “You’re too much. It’s so fucking good with you.”

He groans, his jaw tightening as he picks up the pace, his movements harder, more demanding. Each thrust sends another jolt of pleasure ricocheting through me, the friction between us sparking something deeper, wilder.

“You’re not done,” he growls, his voice rough and breathless, like he’s barely holding himself together. “Not yet.”

Before I can respond, his hand slides down to grip my thigh, pushing it higher, deeper, as he drives his cock into me. My back arches off the bed as he stretches me—fuck me he’s not just long but he’s thick—another cry spilling from my lips as his control slips. His rhythm turns rougher, more insistent, and I meet him with everything I have, the room filled with the sound of skin on skin, his low groans mixing with my ragged breaths.

I whimper, his name falling from my lips like a plea.

“That’s it,” he mutters, his green eyes blazing as he watches me, his gaze raw, almost feral. “Take it, Avery. Take all of me. Oh baby. I’m gonna blow.”

I dig my fingers into his shoulders, my body clenching around him as the heat coils tighter, higher, until I can barely think straight. He grips my hip, holding me steady as his other hand tangles in my hair, tugging just enough to send another spark of pleasure shooting through me.

“You’re driving me insane,” he groans, his voice low and guttural as his hips snap forward, harder, deeper. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight.”

“Griffin, I can’t…” My words break off as another wave builds inside me, sharper this time, and I claw at his back, my nails raking over his skin.

“You can,” he growls, his teeth grazing the curve of my shoulder, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight down my spine. “You will. You’re taking me so well.”

His pace quickens, relentless now, and I’m helpless to do anything but hold on—my fingers digging into his arms, my breath coming in desperate, ragged moans.

And fuck , I love this.

I love the way he fills me, stretches me, the way every thrust feels so impossibly deep I swear I can feel him everywhere.

“Oh fuck. Yes. Yes. Oh my God, Griff. Harder. Fuck me harder. Don’t stop.”

“Never.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

“You like that?” He says, running his thumb along my throat.

“Yes. God yeah.”

This isn’t soft, delicate sex. This isn’t fumbling or slow or sweet. This is big cock, porn star sex, the kind that leaves my legs shaking, my voice wrecked, my entire body aching in the best possible way.

And I fucking love it.

“For fucks’ sake, cum for me, Griff,” I manage to mutter. “I need it.”

The pressure builds faster than I can control, coiling deep in my belly, sending me spiraling over the edge again, my body tightening around him, clenching, shaking with release.

Griffin lets out a rough, broken sound, his rhythm stuttering, his grip bruising at my hips as I milk every last bit of control from him.

“Fuck, Avery?—”

His voice is wrecked, guttural, his body going taut above me as he thrusts one last time, burying himself deep and following me over the edge.

The groan that rips from his throat is pure sin, deep and raw, his body shuddering against mine as he empties himself inside me.

For a long second, neither of us moves—our bodies still intertwined, trembling, chests heaving.

Then Griffin collapses onto his forearms, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath hot and uneven as he struggles to catch it.

I can still feel him inside me, still stretched, still aching, and all I can think is?—

I want more.