He gripped her wrist so hard she felt her bones groan. With his other hand, he undid the buckle of his trousers and freed himself. Her eyes widened as he guided her hand over him, aligning their fingers, then squeezed, groaning deeply at the pressure.
She felt him twitch in her palm. Her lips parted as she stared at him. He was large, flushed with desire.
Graves used her hand to touch himself so angrily, so at odds with how gently her fingertips had grazed Az’s arousal.
"Is that what you like?" she whispered.
Graves looked up and met her eyes, black hair dripping with water. "Yes," he said. "I like it to hurt."
Her breath hitched, fingers going slack against him, but he kept her hand going, moving steadily up and down his hot length.
"Why would you want pain?" Luella couldn’t help but ask. Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in every shift of his expression. The way his mouth tightened, brows furrowed, and jaw clenched as her hand moved against him.
His head fell forward. She felt him jerk in her palm.
"You know why, sweetheart. I showed you, didn’t I? On the ship? The way pleasure isn’t just softness. It’s fear, adrenaline." His lips were by her ear as he spoke. "A thrill that makes you near sick." He moved her hand harder. "That’s always what I’ll crave."
The space between her thighs was oversensitized, but she felt need build up from his words.
"But your softness is so enticing." Graves’s teeth dug into the point of her ear, and she shuddered, crossing her legs so tightly her thighs ached.
He laughed quietly against her ear, then she felt his knee press between her legs. She gasped weakly as his knee forced her legs apart, shoving right against her aching core.
Graves squeezed her fingers around him. Her hand was numb from his grip. His thigh continued to press into her.
"If you knew the things I wanted to do to you," he breathed raggedly against her neck, "you’d run screaming."
"I-I’ve not run yet," she stuttered, head falling back against the stone behind her. Water misted her flushed cheeks.
"And you’ve not screamed," he said. "I’ll remedy that."
He worked her higher with his knee between her legs, until she was gasping, clawing against him with one hand. It was too much, too much. Her whispered, broken pleas went unheard as he drove her to the edge of pleasure again. Like being hurled over a cliff.
She did scream.
Muffled sobs escaped her as she sank against his chest, trembling and spent. His thigh kept moving, and she scrambled away from the sensations on her body; she felt wrung of pleasure, unable to give any more. When her spasms softened, he relented.
He came into her hand with a rush of warmth, spilling over her fingers and dripping to the watery stone beneath her bare feet.
Their breaths came ragged and hot. She felt his breath against her temples. When she pulled away from the crook of his neck, she met his eyes, feeling his warmth against her face and lips.
He stared at her, and a flicker of regret flashed in his eyes, almost too quick to catch. As if awakening from a daze of lust, he uttered, "You didn’t stop me."
Luella shook her head. "Should I have?" Her voice trembled.
He searched her eyes, then gripped her by the nape, forcing her lips back to his to press a bruising kiss to her mouth.
"I’m no good for you. I’ll ruin you," he whispered against her mouth.
They were so close—again, Luella found herself counting his lashes, and the water clinging to their ends.
"I don’t mind. I told you, I didn’t run." She blushed from her words.
She had liked what they’d done, but what she did not like was the loathing and regret in his eyes. It reminded her of Az, when he forced her hand away from him and distracted her from reciprocating his touch.
"I am not as delicate as you think I am," Luella whispered. "I won’t break—not from this, at least."
She felt the thread between them tug as he sifted through her emotions.
