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The nap is making me feel bold, and I have zero regrets about it. There are so many things happening in my life that I’m unsure of, but Graham isn’t one of them. This time I’m sure.
“Maybe.”
“I don’t think you are ready,” he says slowly. “Let’s have dinner.”
“I’m not hungry for food, and I don’t need you to have a conscience right now. Right now, I need you to be the bad guy you have been warning me about from the very start. Either be up for the challenge, or I will find some—”
“Italian food?”
I growl. Partially out of frustration and partially out of deprivation. And the man laughs at me. He fucking laughs. “Apparently, I’m the only one here who is lustful. Fun times,” I mumble.
“Angie…”
“I need you to be my bad choice.”
I know that he is thinking he is taking advantage of me right now in my emotional state, but I don’t give a fuck. Right now, I want him. All of him.
Graham smirks. “And I will be—but first, food.”
Wrestling his way out from underneath me, I watch as he meanders into the kitchen to pull out takeout menus and then proceeds to place an enormous order for delivery.
“I hope you don’t expect me to eat all that.”
Making his way back to me, he bends and places a kiss to my forehead. “I know how cranky you get when you’re hungry.”
“You are confusing my horniness for hunger.”
I yelp as he flips me onto my back.
Graham’s eyes drop as he stares at my trapped body. He has me sandwiched between the cushions of his sofa and his torso. When our lips collide, it is like we are breathing the same air into one another. I lose myself to his taste, allowing my tongue to explore every part of him it can reach.
It isn’t until the food arrives that we detach ourselves from one another.
I rub at my swollen lips, as I watch Graham dish up way more pasta than I can possibly eat. But I try. I try to enjoy these small moments in time, instead of constantly trying to rush ahead.
“It’s really good,” I admit, taking another bite of the ravioli. And another.
Graham nods, giving me a calming smile. But when we are both done, his eyes turn serious. He clears his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs to his increased breathing. “If I start, I might not be able to stop,” he admits. His words hold so much meaning, and I understand his message fully.
“Good.” I bite my bottom lip and maintain eye contact with him.
Graham’s animalistic groan makes a shiver run through my body. He leans down and nibbles on the sensitive skin below my ear, licking back and forth over the softness. My heart drops into the pit of my stomach, and I slouch a bit in the comfort of the sofa, exhaling a moan of pleasure through my parting lips. My simple movement gives Graham a sliver of access to the inside of my mouth. He sucks. He explores.
Sliding his tongue around the corners of my mouth, he slips into the heated passageway. His hands snake around to my behind, twisting me up and around to be on top. He pulls me over him in a straddling position in one swift move. I feel the satin inner layer of my skirt slide up my legs, exposing the lacy edge of my thigh-highs. I sit down harder into his groin, feeling through his suit pants the thickness of his erection, waiting to escape. I swallow as his mouth assaults my tender flesh, taking his tongue and sliding it across mine. I bite down a little, causing him to smirk.
“Tease,” he grinds out, pushing my hips up off him and then pulling them against him hard—my body slapping against his roughly.
I break the kiss, throwing my head back, hair flying wildly in layers over my shoulders. He pushes his head into my chest and moves it from side to side over my camisole as if he is unsure of where to find refuge. His mouth moves up to my neck, sucking and biting and licking and tasting along the base. I gasp and groan at the onslaught of pleasure, feeling like my panties will explode off me if he continues his ministrations.
The feeling of being airborne makes me grasp his shoulders. My eyes fly open, and I realize that Graham is lifting me and carrying me up a flight of stairs. I push my face into the side of his neck, tightening my legs around his waist. I giggle at the sound of his string of curse words. Part of me is pleased that I am not the only one being affected.
“Glad you are entertained by my utter loss of control,” he grumbles sarcastically, pressing my back against the first wall he comes across, halting my giggles with the shock of his change in mood.
My eyes connect with his, and I see the caged animal finding his prey—me. The next moments are a blur with the flutter of hands and grinding of hips and gasps of wordless moans.
Graham’s tongue drives into my mouth in exploration, swirling around the insides of my cheeks, tangling with my own. I am pinned, unable to move. I feel like a trapped butterfly getting mounted to the wall, and it is everything that I secretly told myself I didn’t want. I wiggle to create the friction that my pulsing sex demands. The electrical sizzle of trapped need fills the silence of the air, almost crackling in my ear.
My thighs squeeze tightly together, and I desperately attempt to gyrate my sodden crotch against his and to loosen the hold of my confining skirt. His hands find the exposed bare flesh at the tops of my nylons and slide inside the back of my skirt, slipping over my satin panties. He pushes the material between my cheeks, kneading my naked flesh with his palms. My fingers rake through his hair, mussing up the order in the heat of the moment. With one hand groping my behind, he takes his free one and sweeps both of my hands from his hair up above my head, pinning my wrists to the wall. He has me squished against the wall, panting and moaning into his mouth as he takes complete control over my defenses. For someone who thinks he is the one who lost control, he has me fooled. Everything about this man paints the picture of the power he commands. In vivid, living color.
