It wasn’t necessarily the right thing to do, but it was the only thing he could do.

Griff slid his hand down his chest toward his aching cock. He was entirely naked, having shucked his clothing without waiting for Clark. He didn’t want anybody to see him in this state—this wanting, desperate state where all he could think about was her.

Thank goodness only the butler had seen him when he returned, and he had sprinted up the stairs to his bedroom without even waiting for the man’s greeting.

He’d slammed the door behind him, the flame of the candle lit on his nightstand flickering from the disturbed air.

And then tossed his clothes to the floor as quickly as he could before sliding into his bed.

“Ahh,” he heard himself moan as his hand curled around his shaft. He held it for a moment, relishing the sweet tension prior to beginning to move.

And then he did, sliding his palm up and down the warmth of his cock, grasping the top and twisting before sliding down again to its root.

Damn it, he wished he hadn’t erred so tremendously earlier this evening. If he hadn’t, it might be her soft hand curled around him, tugging on his cock as she licked her lips, all that dark hair falling around her gorgeous breasts.

Not that he’d seen them yet, but he knew they’d be gorgeous. Just like the rest of her.

Her small hand might not even fit all the way around him. She’d have to tighten her grip to grasp him, squeezing his girth as she stroked up and down.

Would she be sitting upright in bed, perhaps straddling his thighs?

The image sent a bolt of lust through him, so he decided that yes, she would be straddling his thighs. Her wet warmth spread out in front of him as she touched him.

Perhaps her other hand would be touching her breast, those delicate fingers trailing over her nipple, which stood erect, practically begging for his mouth.

Maybe he’d ask if she wanted him to suck her nipples. Would she like him to talk during sex, or would she be too focused to concentrate on words?

He gripped himself harder, images in his mind of her touching him as she rubbed herself on his thighs as he stroked faster. Wishing it were her, but knowing that there was a distinct possibility it wouldn’t happen, and he’d have to make do with his hand.

Thinking how he’d let her stroke him close to breaking point, then tossing her on her back and pushing all the way inside, making sure to use his fingers on her little button so she would climax.

Biting her shoulder as he thrust in and out, grabbing her legs so they wrapped around his waist, feeling her breasts rub against his chest.