More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

“I know your pretty folds are still bare.” The way I like them.

“Yes.”

“They slick?”

“Yes.” She’s

breathy again.

It’s arousing as hell.

I want to cheer. Hell, I want to see for myself. The voice of sanity in my head—what’s left of it, anyway—tells my libido to stick to the subject.

“Is your clit hard?”

Water sloshes. Her arm moves. She gasps. “Yes.”

Everything about her is so fucking hot I’m overheating. I would give anything to drop to my knees and worship every inch of her.

Right now, I have to settle for what she’ll give me.

“Good.” I swallow hard. “Lift your other hand to your breast. Squeeze your nipple.”

She does with a whimper. The movements under the bubbles pick up speed. Her back arches. She lifts her feet out of the water and braces her heels on the edge of the tub.

Yeah, it’s getting serious now. I take a step toward her. Another. Last one, and I’ve closed the distance between us. Slowly, I lean in, brace my hands on the edge of the tub. My own breath is nearly out of control.

I won’t touch her. I promised I wouldn’t. I don’t want to give her anything more to be tormented about. I just want to give her relief. And…if she thinks about me the next time she’s feeling sexy, that’s a bonus. It’s been forever since I’ve been with her. She used to associate me with bliss. I want to build that connection in her head again. I want to hear her in climax. I want my ears to ring with the cries of her ecstasy.

“Griff…” Her voice is both a pant and a warning.

“I’m not coming any closer. I just couldn’t stand anymore. You make me dizzy, angel.” I drop to my knees beside the tub. “Your scent is swimming in my head. And I have to see you clearly to help guide you through the pleasure you need.”

Sure, she knows how to find climax herself. She doesn’t need me for this. And yes, I could turn up the lights to get a clearer view from afar. But I think she’s less likely to relax enough to find her pinnacle with an LED blasting in her face. The low, golden haze from the canned lights on dimmers coupled with the pair of scented candles burning at the head of the tub are absolutely perfect. Her skin shimmers golden as her lips part. Her shoulders twist. She inhales a broken breath as her eyes slide shut again.

She’s every fantasy I’ve ever had. She’s everything I remember and more. She’s the woman I’m going to spend my life with.

With every moment that passes, I die a little more.

“Oh, angel…” I croon. “Can you feel lips on your neck? A hand skimming up your thigh?”

In my head, that’s me touching her, but if she needs me to keep this generic for her sanity, I’ll grit my teeth now and prove my point later.

“Yes.”

“Feel hot breath on your nipple?”

She’s breathing so hard and the bubbles are dissipating with every moment that passes. I swear I can see the outline of her breasts under the shallow surface. I see the dark shadow of her areolas. The jut of their hard tips skim the surface of the water.

I grip the edge of the tub. I have to stop myself from reaching down and helping her along. I would kill to touch her now. I would love to be the one to give her release from all the stress and worry she’s been under for weeks. But I can’t risk alienating her because I was impatient, pushy, and horny. Well, more than I have been.

“Imagine a tongue dragging over those nipples. You like it, don’t you? Yeah. They’re sensitive.”

She gives me a jagged nod. Her breathing picks up speed. Her back twists. I see the circular motion of her hand by the jerky movements of her arm. Her chest flushes pink.

She’s seconds away.

“That ache building? Growing? Can you feel your blood racing?”

“Yes. Yes…” Her breathing is so hard I can barely discern her words. “Yes.”

“It’s going to be so sweet. It’s going to feel so good. You’re rubbing it, right? You going to come?” For me.

Her entire body tenses. She freezes—muscles, breath, words. I see the frantic shutter of her pulse at her neck and the frenzied motions of her arm before she opens her mouth with a pained cry that’s music to my ears.

I sit back, watch, mesmerized. She is, without a doubt, the most sensual woman I’ve ever known. From the moment I first kissed her until the last time I made love to her, she’s kick-started my desire like no one else. And this episode is tattooed in my mind indelibly. I’ll never forget her sharp sounds, her female scent, the abandon in her movements.

Best of all, this moment is totally mine. I’m pretty sure butthole has never seen her this uninhibited. She gave a slice of her most secret self to me like a gift. I’ll cherish it always. Someday, I’ll thank her properly for it.

Right now, her sob of ecstasy is ending in a whimper. Her body goes limp. Her eyes flutter open. “Oh, my god. That was… I don’t know what to say.”

“Amazing?”

“Really damn good, yeah.” A hint of a smile plays at her mouth. “I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad you shared with me. I helped, right?”

Her glance tells me I did, more than she wanted me to. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Need help out of the tub?” I grab her towel. “I’ll dry you off thoroughly, angel.”

Because I’ll bet her pussy is still so wet. I bite those words back. My hard-on isn’t her problem.

“Didn’t I just tell you not to push your luck?”

Is that…? Yeah. She’s teasing me. That’s a great sign. After I took her virginity, she cried. It was emotional and that confused her. The fact that she’s not caught up in anything but the afterglow gives me hope.

“Fair enough. What made you want orgasm? Why did you need it?”

Her smile falls. “Don’t make me answer that.”

Britta tells me without telling me that I’m the reason for her need. Exactly what I wanted to hear. I’m calling it a victory…but bowing out gracefully after my win.

I lay her towel on the side of the tub. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

As I back out of the room, I watch her watching me. Our gazes connect. Her stare doesn’t have the same hunger, but it’s not lacking in intensity. I’m in her head, under her skin. I think I’m working my way back into her heart.

I cross the threshold. I know I should shut the doors, but I can’t take my eyes off her.

“Close them, Griff.”

So I can’t peek when she rises from the water like a Venus. Damn it.

I find the strength to do as she asks. No doubt she feels as if she’s stretched her boundaries enough for one night.

As I grab the doorknobs to give her some privacy, I glance at the counter and see her phone, lip gloss, and jewelry next to her sink. I see the piece from the banker glimmering and it makes me want to snarl.

“All right. But if we’re going to act like we’re a couple for the rest of our agreement, you can’t be wearing his ring, Britta.” My sanity and self-restraint won’t be able to handle it. “That finger is mine.”

“I know.”

Thank fuck.

I sweep the doors closed and march across the room to open the sock drawer. She should be wearing my ring, by god. As I’m yanking the jewelry box from the back, her voice stops me. “But I’m not wearing your ring unless I’m going to put it on forever.”

Damn it. Son of a bitch. I would have loved to see it on her finger at work. At breakfast. When we go to bed.