Immortal Desire. Denise Tompkins
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head of his cock hit her cervix. “Again,” she grunted.
“You’re not warmed up enough for that.”
“Again!” She rocked back on him with such power he stumbled back.
Griff wrapped one arm around her waist, lifting her hips up at the same time he propped a fist on the desk next to her head. “You want it rough?”
She shook in his embrace. “I need it.”
“Let go. I’ll take care of...this.” He’d started to say you, but that would have been a lie. “C’mon, Bailey. Let go.” When she went limp in his arms, he settled back, knelt just enough that her thighs rested on his and powered into her. Long, hard thrusts slapped his balls against her clit. He had to hold onto her, one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder, to keep her from sliding across the desk with every drive of his hips.
Her sheath was so tight, so wet, he thought he’d lose his damn mind. Every quiver of her body translated to pure craving, a need so raw it raked against the most sensitive parts of him. All he wanted in that moment was to experience the power of her release.
But not like this.
He pulled free of Bailey’s body.
She dropped her forehead to the desk. “I knew it.”
Griff’s mouth kicked up at the corners. “We’re not done, baby.” The empty affection rolled off his tongue with practiced ease. He gently rolled her over. “Hips to the edge.”
Propping her feet over his shoulders, he leaned in and settled his hands on her waist. She presented a vulnerable, trusting picture, spread out like an offering. The small, insidious voice in his head reminded him that he didn’t deserve her trust. Self-loathing’s abyss loomed. His near-dormant conscience pushed him closer to the ledge and encouraged him to leap.
“Not yet.” His whisper was harsh and emphatic.
Bailey gripped his arm, misunderstanding. “Finish this.”
He drove into her with a single thrust. Reveled in her shout. The hard-pounding rhythm of skin on skin drowned out the club’s muted cacophony.
Her nails scored his arms, drawing blood.
The violence in her matched his own. He was too far gone, too lost in Bailey’s response to shut down his own. His cock swelled. Fuck.
Reaching between them with unfamiliar urgency, he found her clit. The swollen bundle of nerves was slick with her arousal. He thrummed it faster and faster until her wild undulations forced him to hold her in place. Her cries drowned out everything else until she was all he could hear, all he could see, all he wanted.
Hot seed shot up his cock. Sweet hell. He was going to lose himself right here. Right now. He pinched her clit between his thumb and middle finger, flicking it hard. “Now, Bailey!”
She screamed, and that was it. Game over.
Griff’s orgasm rocked him, nearly taking him to his knees. He came so hard his eyes rolled back in his head as he buried his cock deep. Then he felt it.
Her sheath tightened around him.
But instead of the anticipated rush of energy typical with feeding, he only got a trickle. He drew in every last lungful of the drug his body needed to survive. The semi-high would tide him over. For now.
Leaning forward, he took her nipple into his mouth. Her skin was salty. The musk of their sex mingled in the air. Yeah, life was fucking good.
It took him a minute to realize his lover was taught under his hands. She trembled, her need a beacon to the incubus within him. “Bailey?”
“I don’t feel so good,” she whispered.
Then she passed out.
Chapter Three
Griff shoved everything off his desk with a single swipe. Sliding Bailey further up the slick wood surface, he traced a finger down her breastbone. She was breathing in erratic pants, but her color still seemed good. She needed to wake up, though. This was far from over. He might be an incubus, but even he had basic standards. Namely, the woman had to be alert and willing.
“Bailey? C’mon, sweetheart. Wake up.” He tapped her face gently.
Her tongue traced her lips on a sigh.
“We don’t have time for this, baby. Wake up.” Grasping her chin, he leaned forward and forced her to focus on him. “Don’t go thinking we’re done here.” The growl in his voice was a surprise, and he was temporarily relieved she didn’t hear the passion that resonated through every word.
He grabbed the box of tissues off the filing cabinet and cleaned her up before sliding her jeans on and wrapping her in his shirt. With a quick yank, his leathers were on. Shoes weren’t a matter of general decency so he left them.
“Up you go.” He grasped her wrist and hauled her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
Murphy’s Law said the hall wouldn’t be empty. The Law held. Seth’s door hissed closed as Griff stepped out of his office. The ifrit, a rare type of elemental djinn, or genie, turned to him, smiling, until he recognized the shoulder cargo. “Bailey?”
“She’s fine.” Griff started down the hall toward the elevator.
Seth fell into step beside him. Naturally. “What happened?”
“She, ah...”
“You finally fuck her senseless?”
“What?” Normally a master of the poker face, Griff couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Oh, c’mon. You two have wanted each other from the start. I couldn’t stand the chemistry between you without getting a hard-on. Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
Had it been that obvious? Could everyone see what had started between them? He hoped not. It would make what he had to do that much worse. “Whatever. I need you to cover the bar. I’m going to make sure Bailey’s...taken care of.” He scanned his thumbprint then punched the up button beside the private elevator door.
“Be careful.” Seth’s words might have been soft, but they were heavy.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Make sure she does.” The large man pivoted and stalked away, clearly worried about the woman in Griff’s arms.
The urge to call after him, to explain what was happening, burned in Griff’s throat. “I don’t owe anyone an explanation.” He thumped his forehead against the wall, frustrated and unsure of himself. He’d chosen to see her through this, to ensure she didn’t become a victim of her nature as he had. Justifying his actions didn’t change the truth of the situation. He didn’t want Bailey to live with a lifetime of haunted memories and regrets. If he could save her that...
The elevator doors opened and Griff stepped inside. Bailey’s hands brushed his ass and he jerked. “Strung tight as a damn guitar.” He hit the door close button and widened his stance as the car started up.
Bailey groaned. “Griff?”
“Hang on, baby.”
She pushed up, scaling his body.
With her weight shifting, he had no choice but to let her down. How he did it, though, was up to him. He gripped her loosely and let her slide down the front of his body, settling her cleft against his thigh. The scent of arousal swept around him, winding through his lungs and reminding him of sunshine and summer and sultry sin. His hips jerked in response. Desire flooded through him, quickly cresting well above record flood levels.
What is it about her? She’d been everything he’d dreamed of—passionate, responsive, wild. His heart lurched, and he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek, the affectionate gesture one that had never come naturally to him yet fit the moment perfectly.