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“Oh, you like the thought of that.” Satisfaction and lust gleamed in his eyes and darkened the savage lines of his face. “Let’s see how much you like the application of it.”
“Oh.” A gasp of surprise parted her lips as he reached out, gripping her legs and pushing them back before spreading them wide enough to make room for his body.
As he slid between her knees, he gripped her wrists, pulling them from the bed and pressing her torso back.
Just that quick, just that easy, he had her spread out before him, and before she could process the thought, he ripped her panties from her hips.
“Damn you, Graham,” she exclaimed in outrage, managing to angle her upper body upright. “That was a matching set.”
The fine material of the skirt was pushed back to her hips, the folds between her thighs bare but for the heavy layer of slick, glistening moisture that coated the inner seam of her intimate lips.
Her face flamed at the sight of her juices welling from her and preparing her so quickly for his possession.
Pulling her hips toward him and lifting them slightly, Lyrica found herself on her back once again as Graham’s broad hand cupped the dew-rich folds. Parting the swollen lips, his fingers found the trapped, slick heat, groaning in appreciation at the excess.
Lifting his hand, his gaze locked with hers, he lowered it again, patting the tender flesh with a quick little flick of his fingers.
Prickling heat raced over the folds of her pussy. Her clit pulsed in shocking pleasure and throbbed in hunger.
“You like that,” he growled, the sound low, harsh as his expression tightened further in lust. “Let’s see how you like this.”
His hand lowered again, the light tap sending heat racing across her flesh as her hips jerked at the sensation.
She couldn’t bear this. Her clit was throbbing so hard, was so swollen, she swore she could feel air brush against it.
Another tap of his fingers and she cried out, her legs falling open farther, the need for more, for the rising clash of sensations, overwhelming her.
“Do you like it, baby?” he demanded relentlessly. “Tell me to stop.”
“No!” The whimpering denial fell from her lips unbidden. “Oh god, Graham, please . . .”
Her hips lifted again as though pleading for more.
The next tap was heavier, sending a flush of licking flames to surround her clit and tighten around it in impending climax.
Graham’s low, harsh chuckle had her breath catching as she forced her eyes to open, forced herself to stare back at him, anticipation clawing at her senses.
“Oh, I’m not letting you off that easy,” he promised her. “You’re not coming yet, sweetheart. As much as I’d love to watch your orgasm consume you. Not quite yet.”
Panting for breath, Lyrica could see the determination in his eyes, in the hard lines of his face.
“Making me wait to come won’t change anything,” she retorted, though weakly.
It might have had more effect if it hadn’t sounded like a moaning plea.
“We’ll just have to see about that,” he stated, too confident, too dominant. “Want to make a bet on it, baby?”
She wasn’t betting on anything at the moment. She stared back at him silently instead, licking her dry lips nervously as his eyes narrowed on the action.
Cupping her pussy once again, one finger eased between the folds as her hips lifted to him once again. His touch slid through the heavy slickness there until it found the entrance to her vagina.
“Pull your top up.” The order came as his finger found and rubbed at the clenched entrance of her pussy. “Show me your breasts or I’ll rip the bra off next.”
A deep, heavy spasm of pleasure rippled through her womb at the threat.
Hands shaking, she pulled the snug cotton up her torso, revealing the lace-covered curves he wanted to see before pulling it over her head and tossing the material away. Her breathing grew heavier, her heart beating faster as she released the front catch of her bra, almost panting as she struggled to pull the straps over her arms and remove it as well.
Her breasts were swollen, her nipples so hard, so aroused, they ached. After tossing the bra from the bed, her hands moved to the sensitive mounds, cupping them, moaning at the heavy flush that mounted his cheeks as he watched her.
