He knelt before me in just his unbuttoned shirt and trousers, and I shivered at the expression on his face. It was as though I was something to be cherished. His hands slid up the backs of my legs, over my bum, and settled at myhips. His thumbs traced circles on my hipbones, just above the edge of my knickers.
“These too,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband and drew them down slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. The fabric slid over my thighs, my knees, my ankles, and then I was standing before him completely bare.
Graham sat back on his heels and just looked at me.
The silence stretched. I fought the urge to cover myself, to hide from the intensity of his gaze. It was as though he wanted to devour me. Like he was memorizing every curve and hollow for later study.
“Do you have any idea,” he said, his voice almost a growl, “how long I’ve wanted to see you like this again?”
“I have a loose idea.” My voice was rough with need.
“Years.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my hip. “I’ve wanted you since before I knew what wanting was.” Another kiss, lower, on my inner thigh. “You’ve always been it for me, Agnes. I hope you know that.”
“I—” My voice broke off into a gasp as his mouth moved higher.
He kissed along the crease where my thigh met my body, so close to where I needed him but not quite there. His breath was hot against my center, teasing, and my hands found his hair, fingers threading through the damp strands.
“Graham, please?—”
“Please what?”
“You know what.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
I looked down at him—this man kneeling before me like a supplicant, his eyes blazing with desire—and felt my last wall crumble to dust.
“I want your mouth on me,” I said, shaky with need. “I want you to taste me. I want you to make me come.”
Heat flickered in his expression and then he leaned forward and gave me exactly what I’d asked for.
The first stroke of his tongue made my knees buckle. He caught me easily, one arm wrapping around my thigh to hold me steady, and then he settled in like a man who had nowhere else to be.
He was thorough. Goddess, but he wassothorough. His tongue explored every fold, every hollow, learning me again with patient dedication. He circled my clit, then retreated. Dipped inside me, then withdrew. Built the pleasure in waves, each one cresting higher than the last.
I was shaking, and as pleasure built inside me, I bowed my head back and moaned. The sound was almost guttural in need, and I flushed with embarrassment as Graham worked his mouth over me.
“There’s a good lass,” Graham murmured, turning his head to kiss my thigh. “Let me hear you. I’ve waited so long to hear you cry out for me, Agnes.”
He sealed his mouth around my clit and sucked, and I shattered.
The orgasm raced over me, sudden and overwhelming, like I was flinging myself over a ledge into the abyss. I cried out, my hands fisting in his hair, my hips bucking against his face. He held me through it, his tongue working me through every pulse and aftershock, drawing out mypleasure until I was gasping for breath, my body going limp with pleasure.
When the tremors finally subsided, my legs almost gave out entirely. Graham caught me before I could fall, rising smoothly to his feet and scooping me into his arms.
“Was that all right for you then, darling?” he asked, his voice smug.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“Good.” He laid me on the bed like I was something precious. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”
I lay there, boneless and dazed, watching as he stripped off his own wet clothes. He had a chest that made my mouth water—broad and muscled, with a scattering of dark hair that trailed down his stomach and disappeared beneath his waistband. His tattoos continued up his arms and wrapped around his chest, giving him a fierce look that made my insides shiver with need all over again.
His hands went to his belt, and I propped myself up on my elbows to watch.
