moved to the other breast, performing the same salacious, delicious acts on it as one hand played with the already wet nipple.
Desire flowed outward from his touch. Her fingers tightened on the slats as he continued working over her breasts. Holding still became impossible. She twisted her torso, her lower half still caught by his powerful thighs. Then he was scooting down, trailing kisses toward her navel. He insinuated a leg between her knees, and then he was grasping her there, one in each hand, opening her to his gaze.
Chills raced over her body. He looked at her soft, swollen center. "Pretty," he said, his nostrils flaring, his blue eyes blazing. One finger swiped through the drenched tissues and he brought it to his mouth. Sucked.
Jane's breath seized.
"Tasty," Griffin said, then slid lower.
Oh, God. She understood his intention, and instantly shifted her legs, trying to bar him access.
He glanced up, one eyebrow raised.
"I don't... I've never..." She couldn't get out the words.
"Well, I do," Griffin said. "And there won't be any 'never' about this." Then he slid his palms from her knees to her inner thighs, widening her body, opening the delicate folds of flesh.
She really was the captive of a pirate. Because he was plundering again, his mouth taking her prisoner. The wet thrust of his tongue had her making a high, keening noise. Then it took a short excursion north, where he worried her clitoris with the tip, lashing it with tiny, measured strokes of pleasure.
He dipped low again, penetrating her with a firm wet thrust, then back up to the knot of nerves that now was pulsing with its own demand. Over and over, down and up, back and forth, in and out. Jane's muscles went tense, started a fine tremble, and she could only hold fast as she watched his dark head move between the paleness of her thighs.
The view, as he'd known, only took her higher.
Each of her short pants ended in a moan. He glanced up, and she saw it all, his hot blue eyes, his extended tongue, his mouth glazed from her own wetness. It twisted her arousal tighter, and then he went after her clitoris again, sucking it into his mouth as two fingers speared her body.
His impalement tossed her overboard and into wave after wave of orgasmic bliss. She pitched and rolled with pleasure, wanting to ride them forever. Griffin stayed with her, his mouth easing as the seas calmed. On her final shudder, though, he still possessed her, his fingers deep inside of her.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her face.
"That's putting you first, Jane," he said.
In the haze of postclimax bliss, the words didn't register. She only knew that she needed more of him. She protested as he slid his fingers from her and caught at his arm as he moved across the bed.
He laughed, low and smug. "I'm only getting a condom."
It took too long. But finally he was over her, inside her, filling her again, and her inner tissues twitched as he worked her with his penis, finding the last twitches of the orgasm still waiting for him there.
His thrusts were heavy and decisive, and she opened wide in every way to accept him. His mouth found hers, and she opened there too, taking in the thrust of his tongue. She twisted against his chest, her sensitive nipples abraded by his hair.
"Can you go again?" he said, his voice breathless.
"What?" Her brain wasn't working; only her body made sense to her now. Her body and his.
Instead of answering, he reached between them and found her clitoris once more. He stroked it gently, an irresistible counterpoint to the intense driving rhythm of his shaft. She lifted into both, her hips rolling upward, and then she was shuddering and Griffin was pushing deep, deep, deeper, drowning them both in sharp, sweet bliss.
When she came to herself, he was sliding back into the bed. He had a warm washcloth that he drew over her face and neck, down her midsection, and finally to the still-throbbing place between her thighs. He held it there.
She felt drugged by sex and intimacy. He used the intoxication to worm yet more out of her. "You think I should relax, Jane? Then fine, we're going to be relaxing like this a lot. Until we leave Beach House No. 9, I'm saving all my one percent for you."
Drowsy and pliant, she could only murmur. "Yes, sir. Aye, aye."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GRIFFIN FOUND Jane standing at the