His hands moved to cup her dangling br**sts, and he made a small sound of pleasure in his throat. “You are incredibly beautiful.”

“You’ve mentioned that once or twice,” Maylee teased, finding her voice again. She tugged at his undershirt and pulled it up, exposing his flat stomach and the muscles there. She contemplated torturing him in the same way he’d tortured her—endless kisses all over his skin—but his c**k was straining his pants, and she knew he was already painfully aroused. He’d expect her to take her time, just like he had.

But she wanted to surprise him.

So she shimmied down the bed a little, away from those delicious hands that played with her br**sts and began to unbuckle his pants with quick, easy motions. He reached down to help her and she slapped his hand away. “You’re mine now. Sit back and behave.”

He chuckled, but his hands moved away and back to her hair, fingering her curls. He loved touching her hair, so she had to trust him when he’d said he liked it wild and free.

A moment later, she had his pants undone and pushed aside his zipper. He raised his h*ps so she could slide the clothes down, but she decided on a different tactic, a quicker one. Ripping at the button that held the fly of his boxers closed, she snapped it off and pushed his c**k through the fabric, exposing it.

“Well, hello again,” she murmured at the sight of his erection rising up, the crown thick and glistening. “So nice to see you.”

And she grasped the base of his c**k and took the head of him into her mouth.

Griffin immediately stiffened on the bed, his entire body going taut. Her tongue swirled around the head, then lightly traced the underside of the crown, exploring him. He was nice and thick, and she was a greedy woman because she loved that he was. She wanted all of him, and just handling him like this was making her ache deep between her legs. She couldn’t wait to feel him deep inside her. Anticipating this, she opened her jaw and took him deeper, sucking hard.

He nearly came off the bed. “Oh, bloody hell, Maylee—”

She groaned with pleasure at his response, the rumble in her throat sending another shiver through his body. So she continued to deep throat him, letting her mouth get good and wet as she slid him against the back of her tongue and took him deeper into her throat. She knew she was doing good when his h*ps rose to meet her stroking mouth, and his hand fisted in her hair, as if he were trying desperately not to shove deeper.

He pulled her off him a moment later, panting. “No, wait—”

She mewed a protest, trying to pull him back into her mouth.

“Condoms,” he demanded, and rolled off the bed, heading to find them.

She waited for him on the bed, aching and full of need, and he returned a moment later, fingers hastily tearing the box open, his c**k jutting out of his opened pants and boxers. She couldn’t help but reach for him again, and he groaned, pulling away from her and extricating himself from his clothing. He had trouble with the boxers and ended up ripping them off, the fabric tearing overloud in the room. Griffin didn’t look like he cared, though. His hair was sticking up in tufts, and his cheeks were flushed with the intensity of what they were doing.

He was gorgeous.

He rolled on the condom and grabbed for her. He sat at the edge of the bed and then patted his knee. “Come sit in my lap, darling.” His c**k jutted up, indicating just where she should sit.

Maylee swung a leg over him, and Griffin’s hands immediately went to her h*ps to hold her. With his hands guiding her, she slid down his front and seated herself, oh so slowly, atop his cock. The push into her body made her breath suck in, and she immediately tensed her muscles, clinging to his shoulders. He was bigger than her last lover, and his c**k burned a little as it went in, but he felt delicious. “Griff,” she moaned. “Oh, lordamercy.”

“Maylee,” he groaned in response. “Sweet, bloody beautiful Maylee.”

And he sank her down completely on him.

She cried out, only to have her cry smothered by his kiss. This position allowed her entire body to rub up against his, and she locked her legs around his waist. Her br**sts brushed against his chest, and his arm at her waist held her tightly in place.

And he kissed her. Oh, God, he kissed her so deeply and thoroughly that she felt penetrated all over again. Her mind was in a daze, and she whimpered when he bucked his h*ps and it made everything rock just a little bit deeper.

“My Maylee,” he murmured, rocking his h*ps again, and then he began a motion she wasn’t entirely sure was legal, his h*ps moving back and forth even as she rocked her own to increase the friction. Her cl*t was rubbing against his groin, her ni**les were brushing on his chest, and his mouth kept licking and slicking at her own.

It was the most erotic thing she’d ever felt. She’d never had sex like this before, sitting atop of someone and letting him f**k her upright. It made everything so very intimate.

His motions were slow and controlled, but Maylee couldn’t seem to control her hips. She thrust down on him as hard as she could, enjoying his little groans of response. Her own body was trembling, and she felt her sex tightening in response as another orgasm began to build. Her nails dug into his skin and her kisses took on a frantic edge, even as he began to thrust harder into her, encouraging that build.

She felt it in her entire body when she came that time, everything trembling and tightening around him so hard that she knew he felt it, even if she didn’t make a sound. His groan of response told her everything.

Then, he lay back on the bed and rolled over swiftly, and she was pinned underneath him. Before she could question, he pulled back and thrust deep and rough into her.

And she gasped, stunned at how good that felt. When he did it again—faster and rougher than before—the force of his motions shoved her across the bed a little, and his skin slapped at her own. But she clung to him, loving it. “Griff,” she moaned softly. “Oh, Griff.”

“I love you,” he gritted out, the words ragged. “Love you, Maylee.”

And he came, dragging her name out as if it were a benediction.

Maylee curled her arms around him and gave a long sigh of contentment as he shuddered and quaked in her arms, lost in his own orgasm.

When Griffin finally pulled off her, she made a sound of protest as their bodies separated. She didn’t want him to leave her ever again. A moment later, he returned to the bed and curled around her na**d body, pulling her against him.

She snuggled in his arms, content.

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “Don’t fall asleep for long. It’s not that long of a flight home, and you should get dressed again before Kip comes looking for us.”

She chuckled, running her hands over his skin. “Give a girl a moment to cuddle, will you?”

“Several moments, if you so choose.”

“I do,” she told him, and ran a finger over his tattoo, the ugly skull with the money sticking out of the eye socket. So garish. It was an odd choice for a man like Griffin. “This is rather hideous.”

“Isn’t it?” His droll voice surprised her.

“Why’d you get it if you think it’s ugly? It doesn’t seem like you.”

He hesitated. “Long story.”

She looked over at him. “I’m not going anywhere at the moment.”

He shook his head. “I . . . I can’t say right now, Maylee.”

“Oh, okay.” She smiled at him, but couldn’t hide her unease. Secrets already? She’d hoped they were past that. “I guess I should get up and dress.”

To her surprise, when she tried to sit up and get dressed, he dragged her back down on the bed and kissed her passionately. When his mouth lifted from hers, he whispered, “I said that I can’t tell you right now, Maylee, darling. Not that I won’t. Just give me time, all right?”

And she nodded, because what else could she do? If he wasn’t ready to share all his secrets yet, she supposed she understood that.

She just hoped it wasn’t one that would hurt her in the long run.

Chapter Thirteen

Maylee was delighted at Griffin’s townhouse because it was so incredibly Griffin. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting, but at the sight of the wall-to-wall shelves, the antique maps framed on the walls, and the piles and piles of books everywhere, she clapped her hands and laughed. “It’s perfect.”

“It is?” He looked at her in surprise, and eyed his home skeptically, as if trying to see it through her eyes.

“It is,” she echoed, and when he closed the door, she knelt down and let Bubba off his leash so he could suss things out. “It looks exactly like I’d imagine a scholarly nobleman would live.”

He rubbed his jaw, and for a moment he looked embarrassed. “I suppose it does. It’s not an enormous penthouse like Logan’s, though, or a mansion like Hunter’s. I only have three bedrooms and one is set up as a library.”

“Three bedrooms in NYC?” She laughed. “Not exactly slumming it, Griff.”

He moved a pile of books off one table, hesitated, and then dumped them onto another table. “I never considered having more, truly. I grew up in forty-room palaces that never felt like home.”

She smiled, still charmed by the place. There were windows looking out onto Central Park, bookshelves everywhere, hardwood floors, and crown molding. She bet it even had two bathrooms. She loved it already. “There’s no point in a huge house if there’s only two people for it.” She picked up a book and frowned at the layer of dust on it, then looked at him. “Don’t you clean?”

He gave her a sheepish look. “I keep Kip busy enough that he doesn’t do much cleaning. And I have a lady who comes in once a week to clean up the worst of it, but I suppose there’s more to be done.”

“You’re lucky you got a second assistant, then,” she teased.

“I didn’t hire you to clean my house.”

“No, you hired me to clean your pipes.”

He was silent. Maylee looked up in surprise . . . and found that his face was scarlet with a blush. She laughed. “Come on, haven’t you ever heard that expression?”

“Not in reference to me.” He rubbed his ear, and she noticed that it was also red. How cute.

“Is your bedroom full of books, too?”

“There’s room enough for two people,” he said, and she noticed the dazed look had returned to his eyes. He adjusted himself surreptitiously. “Shall I show you?”

That sounded lovely. But first . . . she glanced around. “Where’s Kip?”

He waved a hand. “I told him to pick out a townhouse for himself. On me. I believe he’s shopping.” He grimaced. “The man does love to shop.”

“He can keep the shopping duties,” Maylee declared, and dragged Griffin into his bedroom.

***

Three days later, Griffin was the happiest he’d ever been. He had warm, wonderful Maylee in his bed, he was back home in his townhouse, and everything was perfect.

Well, almost perfect. There was a slobbering dog that he’d found chewing on a book earlier that morning, and his townhouse was currently being turned upside down by Maylee, who was determined to organize things, but overall, he was content.

He had the woman he loved in his bed, and he adored her every night for hours. Sometimes several times in one night. Just thinking about Maylee made his c**k stiffen, and he got up from his window chair, setting his book aside to go find her.

He found her in the small living room, seated on the floor, cross-legged. She wore her ugly camo pajamas, but he found the sight charming now instead of appalling. And turned off the TV as soon as he came in the room. The smile she turned to him was overly bright. “Hey, you.”

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. You want a snack or something? I was just about to get one—”