And hard.
It’s not like the last kiss, either. This one is filled with pent-up emotions, need, lust, and want, and pining and yearning, and in some strange way, it’s a comfort to know it hasn’t been in my head; it hasn’t been one-sided all along. The kiss tells me everything I need to know—Graham has been as into me as I have been to him; he’s justmuchbetter at hiding it.
His hand is in my hair, and my chin is in the palm of the other one, his fingers spread along the side of my jaw. He uses his grasp to guide my face where he wants it, taking what he desires, and I let him.
“Graham,” I murmur as his lips travel, licking down my neck and pulling my earring into his mouth, little dangling suns today, making me gasp.
“Mmm?” he says against my skin, and the sound travels straight between my legs.
“Are we, uh,” I swallow, stumbling on my words. His fingers brush along the skin of my belly, gripping the bottom of my loose cover-up top, pulling it over my head, and tossing it to the side before his lips meet my skin again, pressing kisses to the bare skin at my shoulder. My breathing goes shaky as I try to hold onto a single thought. “Are we, uh, really doing this?”
He pulls back, a wide, happy grin on his lips, that dimple taunting me, and everything in me melts.
“I sure as fuck hope so,” he murmurs. He looks so boyish like this, years younger, without the stress of work and what I now think may have been the stress of having to keep these pent-up emotions inside. Still, in a heartbeat, his face changes, eyebrows furrowing, his body stilling. “Unless?—”
I shake my head fervently. “No, no, I very much want—” I start, but I’m stopped with another deep kiss, lips and tongues colliding in a preview of what’s to come. Then his head dips again, pressing to my lips and nipping the bottom one before making the same trail down the other side of my neck. My hands roam his back, finding the bottom of his shirt and tugging weakly, my mind muddled with lust. Thankfully, he gets the hint, stripping it off before returning to his mission. His body moves, small, staggering steps toward the bed, moving me with him as his hand lifts to where the tie at the top of my bikini top is, tugging until my top comes loose. He pulls back for just a moment to watch the material fall, a deep, satisfying groan leaving his lips as a nipple is revealed.
“Fuck, your tits have been haunting me.”
I giggle at the thought, but the sound melts into a moan when his hand lifts, cupping and rolling a nipple. My head falls back as his free hand tugs at the back string of my bikini, tossing the material aside, then slides down my belly to the button of myshorts. I slide my arms around his neck to pull him closer until we’re chest to chest, skin to skin. His head lifts, moving back to my lips to kiss me as my fingers sift through his hair, taking a page out of his book to take what I want, to hold his head where I can devour his mouth as he gets my shorts undone. Soon, they’re sliding down my legs with my underwear, and he’s pushing me to the bed until I’m sprawled before him. He watches as I settle in, his hands moving to the button on his shorts, sliding them and his underwear down until he, too, is naked. His cock bobs free, and my mouth waters.
“What’s this?” he asks, moving closer to the bed, his fingers grazing the small red and black tattoo on my hip. “I didn’t see it last time.”
“You were a bit preoccupied,” I murmur. “It’s a ladybug. She brings me good luck.” His fingers run over the ink on my skin again, trailing in and down until he’s inches from where I’m desperate for him. Chills run through me.
“My lady luck.” His voice is so slow I almost miss it, but god, that name on his lips, I’m so fucking grateful I didn’t. “What else did I miss?” he asks, and I bit my lip, lifting a shoulder.
“Not sure.”
“I guess I should look every inch over, shouldn’t I?” he asks.
“You can look later,” I murmur. “I want you, Graham.” A deep, needy groan leaves his lips, but he shakes his head all the same.
“No, no. I made that mistake last time, rushing through. I thought it would be enough, thought it would ease my mind, but it didn’t.” He bends, pressing his lips to the tiny ladybug on my hip. “It made it worse. It left me wondering every day.”
“Wondering?” I say in a breath, watching as his tongue darts out to lick my skin before standing straight once more. “About what?”
“What your face would look like when I did this,” he says, hand sliding up my belly, cupping my breast. “And this.” His thumb and forefinger come together over my nipple, pinching and rolling and causing me to gasp. A smile spreads on his lips, and this, too, is different than last time.
The smiling. The teasing.
They’ve been coming easier, but tonight, it’s like he gave up trying to keep them in, decided it wasn't worth the effort.
“Yeah, that’s the look I was hoping for. Though it is much prettier in person,” he says, then drops his head, circling his lips on my nipple and sucking. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to me, enjoying his skin on mine. His hard cock bobs, brushing my thigh, and I moan.
His hand slides down my belly as his lips continue to move on my nipple, and I gasp as his middle finger grazes over my clit. I’m wet and needy, more than ready for him.
It’s just like the first time, and I know if I let him, my dominant man will have me writhing in just a moment.
But while Graham may have been daydreaming about the faces I’d make, my own mind has been preoccupied with what he would look like if he lost that tight grip on his control. It ignites something in me, hotter than the need to have relief of my own, and I sit up, then roll until I’m standing beside him.
“Is everything—” he starts, looking concerned, but I just grin.
“Sit,” I order, pushing him toward the bed.
“What?”
“You had your fun last time. Now it’s my turn.”
