Bossy and alpha, even in the throes.
He slammed home, planting himself deep as he exploded into me. I scream-sobbed into his mouth, so overcome by the sensations flowing through me I couldn’t be silent, even if I tried. My orgasm crashed into me and it washuge. Massive. The biggest I’d ever felt by a mile, and so potent I thought my nerve endings would immolate. Graham roared with his own release, my name on his lips as his hips jerked over and over, until he was totally spent.
It took a while for us to come down from the high. A long while. Even as the aftershocks moved through me, I kept my legs looped around his hips, my arms around his back, wanting to keep him as close as possible. Delaying the inevitable moment of separation as long as I could.
He lay on top of me, his punishing thrusts slowing to lazy, soft slides that made my over-sensitized insides tremble and my breaths hitch inside my throat. When his hand lifted to trace the slope of my jawline, his eyes soft and warm as they stared down into mine, I stopped breathing altogether.
“Worth the wait, baby,” he murmured, brushing his lips against mine with such sweetness, my eyes filled with tears. “Worth every fucking second. Worth a whole fucking lifetime.”
Chapter Twenty
She’s so flaky, her nickname should be croissant.
- Gwen Goode, trying to make plans
I sat in Graham’s glorious pedestal bathtub, the warm water flowing over my breasts, leaning back against the man himself. His long legs barely fit, even with his knees cocked up. I was settled between them, feeling boneless and utterly relaxed as his strong hands worked at the muscles in my shoulders.
After we’d fucked in his bed, I’d let him carry me to the shower where he’d taken his time lathering up a loofah with luxurious smelling shower gel and washing every square inch of my body, his hands slippery as they moved over my skin beneath the hot water. He showed a bit of extra dedication to cleaning between my legs, eventually abandoning the loofah altogether in order to delve his tongue against my cleft as his fingers rolled on my clit.
His mouth was so skilled, it took me an embarrassingly short time to reach climax — something I did moaning his name, clutching his hair as the rainfall shower-head coursed down on us both. Fair play worked both ways, though. It was my turn with the loofah, and my turn to do something I’d been thinking about for years. Dropping to my knees, I took him in my mouth, more than a little bit delighted to finally have the opportunity to feel all that was Graham between my lips, to look up and see him coming undone from just the stroke of my tongue and the pump of my hands. I nearly came again, seeing that look on his face as he fucked mine.
He didn’t let me finish him with my mouth, though. He’d yanked me up and lifted me into his arms, his hands cupped firmly at my ass as he pinned me against his expensive, imported tile wall, and proceeded to screw my brains out. Thus, delivering my third orgasm of the day and sending me to an alternate plane of existence, where things like Heretics and dark sacrifices and horrific murders did not exist and never would.
Now, we were in his tub. Graham’s hands were moving over my skin, not seeking any sort of gratification, just lazy strokes that felt indescribably good. I turned my head to rest it in the hollow of his neck, my forehead planted firmly against his pulse point, absorbing its slow drum beat against my skin.
“How are you feeling, gorgeous?”
I snuggled closer, loving the slide of my bare skin against his beneath the bathwater. “So good, it should be illegal.”
He smiled — I knew because I felt it against my hair, where his mouth was currently pressed. “You better be, after three orgasms.”
“Is that, perchance, arrogance I detect in your tone, Graham Graves?”
“Told you before, told you a dozen times — it’s not arrogance if I’m right. It’s just fact.”
Normally, I would’ve scowled at him. Seeing as my bones were made of gelatin from the aforementioned orgasms, I settled for a heavy sigh.
“Can we stay in this bathtub forever?”
His smile widened, moving against my temple. “You’re a prune already, baby. Any longer in here, they’ll bottle you into juice and slap you on the breakfast menu at a retirement home.”
I giggled, knowing he was right, but not moving an inch. I wanted to stay right there, in that moment, for the rest of time. Unfortunately, the water eventually grew intolerably cold and Graham led me out, wrapping my body in one of his big, fluffy towels, taking pains to wipe every droplet of moisture from my skin with such dedication, you’d think I was the Wicked Witch of the West, about to dissolve into green smoke if exposed to a single molecule of water.
My lips twitched as I thought about theThe Wizard of Oz. Not long ago, the only thing Graham Graves ever called me was Glinda — and in a mean, mocking voice, at that. Not Gwendolyn or Gwen or babe or baby or, my favorite of all, gorgeous.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on my mouth. His lush hair was damp, sticking up several directions after he’d vigorously shaken it like a dog, sending droplets sailing everywhere. The sharp v-cut of his abs disappeared into the towel he’d slung around his hips. It was a good look. Beyond good, actually. It was ahotlook. Made even more hot by my intimate knowledge of what lay beneath said towel.
“Gwen.”
I jolted out of my mini-daze of lustful thoughts and focused on his face. “Are four orgasms not enough to smile about?”
His eyes glittered. “By my count, only gave you three, babe.”
I dropped my towel to the floor, watching with triumph as his eyes dilated to pricks of lust as they swept the length of my naked form. Stepping toward him, I traced a line down his stomach with the tip of my index finger, following the line of hair downward, feeling his muscles contract as he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Threeso far,” I whispered, catching his mouth with mine, feeling his arms wrap around me as he hauled me against him, skin to skin. I felt his cock swelling against my thigh beneath his towel and couldn’t help grinning as I whispered, “But I’m thinking you’re about to change that.”
* * *