A Promise of Fire (Kingmaker Chronicles, #1)(111)

“Your name suits you.” His eyes are heavy-lidded, his thick, black lashes partially obscuring the molten silver beneath. “You sound just like a cat, purring and mewling.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say, throwing his hand off me.

Griffin looks mildly offended but gets over it when I tug him to the edge of the bed and then take off his shirt. I hop down near the foot of the bed, my feet sinking into the thick rug. I pull him up to standing next to me, undo his belt, and shove his pants down. He steps out of them, already barefoot, and kicks them aside.

My eyes widen at the size of him. His erection still surprises me. And it’s still intimidating. It makes me wonder how wide my jaw opens.

I drop to my knees. I’ve heard men like this.

“Cat!” He pulls me back up. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“You did.”

“That was only to give, and I enjoyed it. A lot. I don’t expect this in return.”

I’m getting more nervous by the second. “You’re very giving. It’s nauseating.”

His lips kick up at the corners. He doesn’t seem too perturbed by my pronouncement. “I don’t need to be bad-tempered twenty-four hours a day to prove I’m strong.”

I bite my lip. I probably deserved that. “Don’t worry,” I say, wiggling out of his grasp and sinking back down. “I have no idea what I’m doing. You might hate it.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath above me when I touch my tongue to his arousal. His voice already strained, he says, “There’s no chance of that.”

I lick him again, this time more boldly. I wasn’t lying. I have no idea what I’m doing. I figure there aren’t too many ways to mess this up, though, so I begin at the top. As I get used to his thickness and the taste of his liquid pearling on my tongue, I take him more fully into my mouth and suck a little on the way back up.

“Good Gods!” Griffin mutters, bracing one hand against the bedpost. The other touches the top of my head, curling into my hair. I move up and down, licking and swirling my tongue. I can’t think of anything else to do, so I take the base of his shaft in my hand and squeeze. His hips buck, so I do it again. His breathing turns unsteady. His fingers tighten in my hair, guiding me into a faster rhythm.

Wanting to draw out the pleasure like he did for me, I rock back on my heels and look up. Griffin is watching me, his face rigid with need. There are other feelings there, too, and the stark emotion makes me want to do more than please him. I want him so delirious for me that he’ll forgive me for anything, no matter what I do, or who I am. I understand what he meant now about Ares and Aphrodite. If I can make him want me enough, maybe he’ll never give up on me.

I cup his balls and lick him from base to tip. Griffin follows my every move, and the way he watches me—the dark intensity, the longing in his eyes, how they blaze with raw desire—spreads through me like a drug. Heady pressure builds low in my abdomen. I grow wetter between my thighs.

I sink down again, taking his shaft far into my mouth. A groan rises in Griffin’s throat. His breath comes faster, in harsh pants. I take him deeper, harder, and a shudder rolls through him.

He reaches for my shoulders and tries to pull me up. “If you keep up like this, I’ll come in your mouth.”

I don’t let him move me. I’m not about to reject his life force. Maybe I’ll end up twice as strong as I was before. I sink my nails into his sculpted backside and suck hard.

His breath rattles above me. “Cat…”

I don’t stop despite his warning tone, trying to make up for what I might lack in skill with sheer enthusiasm.

Griffin throws his head back and roars. The rough sound of his release whips up a storm inside me. Fevered need pulses between my legs. I want him inside me, thrusting hard and fast.

His liquid is warm and salty, and there’s a surprising amount. The spasms stop just when I’m afraid I can’t swallow any more without gagging.

Griffin yanks me up, clutching me against his chest, which rises and falls with labored breaths. “You can spit,” he pants, crushing me against him. “Or throw up if you need to.”

I laugh and then choke a little.

“That was amazing.” He sinks his hands into my hair and rains kisses all over my face. “You’re amazing. I love you.”

My heart flips over, and I bury my nose in his chest. “The things men will say for sex,” I mutter against his sweat-slicked skin.

“It’s after the sex.”

My head jerks up, and I frown. “Really? There’s no more?”

The widest, most disarming grin I’ve ever seen spreads across his face, and I lose my heart entirely. Griffin grips my hips and tosses me back onto the bed. Following me, he kisses and touches and licks and nibbles until I’m thrashing and wild. When he finally comes to me, my whole body thrums with needing him. I moan at the fullness and revel in his firm strokes, meeting them with eager, raised hips as Griffin guides us toward a mutual climax that’s even more intense and shattering than before.

After my storm quiets and our heartbeats calm, we lie together, tangled, sweaty, and spent. Griffin eventually gets up to blow out the lamps before coming back and tucking me against his side. I’m way too hot, but I don’t move or push him away because I just don’t want to.