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He is like a mobile pharmacy with all of his post-sex products. Between the special wipes and the ointment, I can only imagine what else he has tucked away inside drawers and cabinets.
“Open your legs back up, baby. Let me take care of you.”
I obey and rest against his chest as he spreads the salve into my most sensitive parts, administering his loving after care to my body. Carefully, he inserts one finger inside my passageway, rubbing it into the warm pink flesh. The salve heats with the friction, and I can’t contain the moan escaping from my parted lips. With the mix of pain and pleasure, it is nearly impossible to detect which is more prevalent. Each twist and turn of his finger hurt slightly, but the overall encompassing feeling is that of ecstasy. My insides start to melt, and I rock my hips upward against his finger, sucking it inside.
My left hand reaches back into the warmth of the sheets, searching blindly for the hidden treasure. I travel up over the firm length of Graham’s thighs, through the tuft of soft hair, until I find his growing erection. A curse word slips off his tongue, and I laugh at my ability to bring out the crudeness in him, feeling powerful that I can at least affect him when he so passionately affects me.
I can feel the moisture slip from me, soaking Graham’s finger with my juices. When I think that I am going to burst from the slow torture, I lift my body up and climb on top of Graham’s legs in a straddling position.
“Angie?” he asks hesitantly, gripping the flesh on my hips.
I grind my crotch into his length, moaning at the friction created. “Hmm?”
“Baby, this isn’t a good idea.”
“I think it is the best idea I have had in a while,” I whisper. I rub harder, tossing my hair back over my shoulders. “This feels so good that I may come from just grinding. Just lie still and let me enjoy myself.” I smile softly as his eyes widen and then narrow. I must have done the half whisper thing that he seems to like, because his erection jumps, and I can no longer wait. I lift my butt off his thighs and line up my entrance with his engorged tip. His hands loosen on my waist and help to guide me onto him.
“Slow, sweetheart,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. “I mean it. Go easy.”
I can already feel the folds stretching around him, tugging at the inflamed skin as I move a centimeter at a time down his length. Graham’s eyes are narrowed as if he’s the one having the pain. His blood is pulsing through every inch of his shaft. I place my hands on his stomach to balance myself and then sit my hips down hard into his, sliding completely to the root.
Ouch!
Our mutual swear words mix in the air with a breathless harmony.
“What the hell does slow mean to you?” he asks, a bit angry at my suddenness of wanting to be filled.
“I thought”—pant—“the Band-Aid Approach”—pant—“was best.” I bite my bottom lip into my mouth and suck on it to take the focus away from the raw pain that I feel deep within my body.
Once I am accustomed to the sensation of being full again, I start to move my hips up and down slowly, never gaining or losing more than a couple of inches.
Graham’s hands slide to my back and push me forward. Before I know what he is doing, I am being rolled and once again am under the mercy of whatever he chooses to administer.
My shirt slides up, exposing my naked skin. Graham sucks on my nipples, biting them and kissing me through the pain. He has a rough side to him that I am loving. And craving. I don't last long under his ministrations and am howling his name throughout the bedroom as I see stars. Graham pumps a few more times and shoots his release inside of me.
While I have nothing really to compare it to, I know that Graham is an exceptional lover. He is all about taking care of me first and worrying about himself second. My needs come before his own, and while he often pushes me over the edge with his bossiness and his overprotective tendencies, I know that his heart is in the right place. I feel cherished and safe.
When his body starts to relax, Graham slips from my warmth and rolls to his back, pulling me to him. The proof of his orgasm is dripping down my thighs, and I couldn’t care less. I am exactly where I want to be. I lay my cheek upon his chest and allow my mind to relax enough for my heart to follow. Hands wrap in my hair, playing with the softness.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he whispers.
“I feel the same way,” I admit. “You have given me so many first experiences. First orgasm. First time having sex.” I frown. “I don't think that there’s anything I can give you that you haven’t already experienced with someone else.”
He tries to pull me up so he can see my face, but I press harder down into his chest.
“Look at me, baby. Please.” He tries again, and I finally give up.
“Hmm?” I ask.
“No one has gotten as close to me as you have. No one. And yes, I have experienced physical acts with other women. But only you have unleashed the emotions behind those acts.”
I nod, trying not to let the tears start pooling. He’s so sincere and honest. I lean down and rest my lips on his for a chaste kiss.
“How about I go pick us up some lunch while you take a bath?” Graham offers.
“That sounds wonderful,” I admit, just in time for my stomach to rumble. I must have worked up an appetite.
I watch the view as he rolls out of bed and saunters into his walk-in closet for a pair of loose jeans and a T-shirt. He then goes into the bathroom, and I can hear the start of the water filling up the tub.
