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“Two,” he growls, still ramming. “Three… eight… sixteen…”
God, god, god. My hips writhe. My hand flies out, grasping for leverage, and finds his hair, tangling within the strands.
“Twenty… twenty-seven.Fuck.”
The gritty, broken curse sets off a chain reaction. My back arches. A cry tears from my throat, rising in pitch with every stroke. Every suck.
“Fuck,” I hear myself croak. “Shit.”
“I’m listening.” He makes me feel every inch his lips move. I don’t just hear the words. He fucks them into me. “So let me hear you.”
“Harder!” My nails clench, guiding him lower, deeper. “Lower…”
“I’m listening.”
Like hell he is. My spine curls. My heels press into his back. I can’t breathe. I arch against him, feeling every muscle in my body tighten. Clench. When he swipes his tongue against my clit, they come undone.
My head swims with the intensity of the rush that takes me high. Higher than the ceiling. Higher than I’ve ever been. He ruthlessly forces me even higher, shoving himself into me. Adding first one finger. Then another.
“G-Graeme.” I’ve never called him by his first name before, and I don’t realize it until he stiffens. Every muscle in his body turns to stone beneath my fingertips, and I can only interpret a rush of vibration to decipher the word he snarls against me next.
“Again—”
“Graeme.” I shouldn’t. I need to. Anything to keep him from stopping. I’ll die if he stops. “P-Please…”
One of his hands slides beneath my ass and drags me to the edge of the counter—nearly off it. He’s supporting most of my weight, and I let him. I take him. He inhales me.
The second orgasm hits faster. Harder. Ruthless.
I don’t have time to catch my breath before he’s already readying me for the third. The fourth. The cool air hits me like a slap when he finally draws back, his gaze meeting mine, his eyes on fire. “It is customary… for a teacher to reward her student when he completes an assignment,” he tells me, his voice a guttural rasp.
And there’s number five.
He groans when he feels me convulse around his fingers and waits until the final throes rack my body, and I go limp. Then he sets me down. He steps back. Licks his lips. Smiles.
“I’d say your expertise is well worth the retainer.”
CHAPTER25
graeme
The water pelting me from the shower head is ice-cold. My cock is on bloody fire. Her taste is on my tongue.
All things considered, it shouldn’t be that hard to rub one off. She’s in the next room. Her bloody juices still slick my fingers. I can hear her moans in my ear. God, her taste…
I lick my lips, but the action only seems to make my cock harder, the greedy fucking thing. My hand isn’t enough to satisfy it. It wants the real deal. Her. Evelyn. Right here against the wall, dragging my name from her stubborn lips. Making her scream it.
There.I rock back on my heels, my hand pumping, my shaft twitching, and finally, I come into the shower spray, watching the evidence race down the drain. That should be enough, but when I finally step out into a towel, I’m still semi-hard. I can still fucking taste her. I can still see the scenario unfold bit by bit in my mind—Evelyn King spread out over my countertop like a buffet. Her body at my mercy. My name on her tongue.
She hadn’t been playing fair by using that bloody trick. It certainly makes it harder to focus on the task at hand—beating Adrian Riley at his own game. I swipe my hand against the mirror, erasing the steam wafting from the sink. Glaring at the bastard staring back at me, I shove my hands beneath the spray and scrub my fingers clean of every bit of her. I rinse my mouth out twice. I pull on a suit and fasten the tie as if it’s a noose, threatening to tighten the moment I so much think of shagging.
It’s dark when I finally enter the bedroom and select a pair of oxfords from my closet, pulling them on without bothering to see if they match. Then I return to the living room. Focused. Collected.
I find her, lying on the couch, her dress dragged up over her hips, her hair a tangle, her knees tucked beneath her chin. Those blue eyes drift in my direction, and she stiffens. Much like my cock.
There are many ways to navigate this current situation—give up. Come clean. Let her leave. I draw myself to my full height instead and straighten my tie using the reflection of a nearby window as a guide.
“Get dressed,” I tell her.
