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“I fell.” It’s not a lie.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Dammit, Angie. You should have told me.”
“It’s not like you have given me much of a chance,” I defend.
He lets out a curse. “I should not have had you kneeling on your wounds.”
“I’m fine. Really, I am.”
He grabs hold of my hips and jerks me toward him. “Next time, you tell me. Understand?”
“Yeah. Got it.”
“Now show me your pretty pussy.”
I stare down at the only piece of fabric I am wearing other than my socks. Why does this man make me feel so vulnerable and yet so confident? I lock eyes with Graham and thumb down my panties. I bend at the waist until they are around my ankles and then kick them into the growing discard pile. I take the liberty of removing my socks—knowing that they will not make the cut.
“Breathtaking,” Graham exhales. “You are exquisite. My diamond in the rough.”
He stands to join me and cups my ass cheeks between his hands. He squeezes to almost the point of pain. But I like it. I grind my core against the roughness of his jeans making him snicker. I need the friction. It is primal and instinctual. He leans down and bites at a sensitive spot on my neck, directly below my ear. I gasp at the chills it causes. Pleasure and pain are all packaged into one clear emotion—desire.
Graham lifts me up from the floor, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He guides me to my bed, laying me flat. I release my hold and watch as he removes his jeans and sweater. He stands in just his boxer briefs, and I can see the outline of his erection. He is just as turned on as I am.
“Like what you see?” he asks seductively.
I smile and nod. “Yes, sir.”
He joins me on the bed with a quick kiss to my lips. I moan at his fleeting form but am soon met with a kiss to my navel and then to my clit.
Holy. Shit.
I jerk my body off the mattress and am quickly held down with strong arms.
“Scream all you want. But you do not move, Angie. You stay put. You endure all that I am about to give to you. This is payback for the torture you have caused me these past few weeks. You move without permission, I stop. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, sir,” he corrects.
I echo his words and will my body to stay still. But I somehow know that I will fail.
Graham’s thumbs part my dampened lips, while his tongue starts lower at the sensitive skin below my entrance. He licks all the way up until where my patch of hair rests. I whimper at the sensation and try not to move an inch. He flattens his tongue again and travels the same path. Tears well in my eyes at the concentrated pleasure. My hands massage his hair as he continues his relentless torture on my body.
After a series of several swipes—I have lost track of the count—he centers in on my clit and sucks it into his mouth as if it were the pearl of an oyster. His mouth maintains the pressure, while his tongue runs laps around my sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Graham!” I yell, resisting the urge to bolt up off the bed.
I can feel his smile as he releases his hold. He travels lower and flicks his tongue back and forth over my entrance, joining it with one finger. He slides it in and scrapes along my slick flesh. The penetration feels wonderful. I am so ready. He pumps in and out with one hand, while the thumb of his other hand presses on my clit. His eyes meet mine and dance with satisfaction. He knows that I am at his mercy. He gives me a sexy smirk, and I melt into the bedding. Why does he have to be so good-looking?
Graham’s finger exits, and I immediately mourn the vacancy. I feel empty. He then brings his dampened finger up to his lips and sucks my juices off—staring deeply into my eyes. He adds another finger to his mouth and slides it in and out, wetting both. He then rubs my folds, as he presses both fingers into my opening. I feel stretched to my limit and tighten my muscles involuntarily.
“Relax. You are so fucking tight. But you can take it. Your body will stretch to accommodate me, but you have to relax.”
Easier said than done, mister.
