His head at waist level, he glanced up, gave her a saucy grin and a wink. She offered a wobbly smile in return and watched as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her pelvic bone, just above where her nerve endings were currently congregated and eager for him to move a tad lower.
“Yes,” she said on a gasp as he licked her seam. “Oh yes, please, yes.”
“Mm-hmm,” he said, his mouth on her clit, the vibrations roaring through her entire body.
She reached down and grasped his hair, holding his head in place. “Don’t stop.” The impending orgasm curled tighter and tighter inside her. A cry tore from her lips as her body felt as though it were lighting up like a firework, except instead of dissipating and falling back to earth, it just kept exploding, over and over until she was wrung out and limp. She gently pushed his head away so that she could sink to the floor in front of him.
He continued to kneel there, watching her, his stubble glistening from her arousal. “Magic lips,” she murmured, pressing a finger against them.
He kissed the appendage and then chuckled. “Come here. I’m not done with you yet.”
Reaching for her, he pulled her into his lap and twisted around until his back was against the wall and his legs were stretched out, with her straddling his thighs.
“I expected no less, based on previous experience,” she assured him, and he laughed again before kissing her, threading his fingers in her hair and plundering her mouth until she was once again a quivering, quaking mess. Her dragon, who she thought had passed out after that first orgasm, was now rolling over onto her back, her legs spread into a highly inappropriate position.
Without breaking the kiss, he reached around and unclasped her bra, slipped it off her arms, and then cupped her bare breasts. He bent and latched onto one of her nipples, suckling and licking like she tasted as sweet as nectar.
She rotated her hips, rubbing against his erection, her arousal coating them both, the action twisting her insides once again into an impending climax.
Abruptly, he settled his hands on her hips and pressed, pushing her down his legs a couple of inches. She gasped and stared at him, her chest heaving as much as his.
“Condoms,” he managed between breaths. “In my bag.”
She slid off his lap and crawled over to the dresser. “I suppose I should be grateful you’re so prepared.”
When she returned with a foil packet in her hand, he snagged it, quickly sheathed himself, and pulled her back into his lap, settling her right where it felt the best and wiggling a little, obviously to make sure her body was still interested in these activities.
She shivered in response.
With one arm around her back, he tilted her chin up with the other one. “They’re always in my toiletry bag. This wasn’t planned.”
She touched his face. “I know.”
He pulled her close and hugged her, not moving, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder, their hearts beating in tandem. Even her dragon stopped acting like a wanton fool for a moment to enjoy the moment of pure intimacy.
And then, slowly, they both began to move, coming together, ever closer, as he pushed into her, and they made love, leisurely, the pace almost painfully unhurried, yet so tender that Sofia could scarcely catch her breath.
At least, until her orgasm overcame her, abruptly, with no warning, and she started to ride him like she’d lost her damn mind, and he clutched at her, keeping pace until he gave a shout and his body stiffened as he roared over the edge too.
After a few moments, once they’d both returned to the physical plain, Sofia said, “Do you think we have time to do that again?”
Chapter Eleven
It was still true. Griffin liked sleeping in an actual bed. He also liked sharing that bed with a warm, soft woman.
Okay, okay, it was also true that not just any woman would suffice.
It had to be Sofia.
He’d say that came out of nowhere, but he was a gargoyle and therefore couldn’t lie, even to himself. There had been a connection from the moment they met. That connection, that spark was the reason he’d gone against his better judgment and slept with her four years ago. Because he’d known, even as he kissed her, even as he stripped off her clothing, even as they connected in the most intimate way possible—he’d known that he had to leave her.
This time it was different, and yet, really quite the same.
Because he still had to leave her.
He needed help. He couldn’t protect her by himself. These dual threats, warlocks and her brother, were too great. He’d promised her he would not divulge her secret, which meant he could not rely on the dragons alone to protect her. He had to go to Oliver. And once he did, his new boss would pull him off this assignment. Which meant he’d potentially not be able to contact Sofia again.
But at least she’d be safe.
That was far more important that his desire to stay in this bed and curl himself around her and hold her tightly while she slept.
Gently extracting himself from the tangle of limbs they’d become once they’d moved to the bed, made love again, and then collapsed into semi-conscious heaps, he slid out from under the sheets, dressed, and stepped out of the room without waking her.
The kitchen had one occupant, Maria, although she now wore actual clothing instead of a towel. Her slinky dress and high heels gave the impression that she was going out, although at the moment, she was
