Chapter 33
thirty-three
The smoldering sensuality in Graham’s dark gaze is too much for my self-control.
Because he’s right. I do want him.
The way he looks at me when I argue with him—like some fearsome goddess he wants to fuck senseless— does make me feel powerful.
He doesn’t waste any time. Within seconds, he has my top on the floor, along with his pants and shirt.
Black silk boxer briefs showcase his erection. The thick bulge runs down his inseam, so long I catch a glimpse of his cockhead before he tugs my body against the length of his lean hardness and kisses me deeply.
It occurs to me, in some distant corner of my mind, that I should be freaking out. I’ve never hooked up with a man more than once. But the second I ask myself why I don’t feel panicked, I immediately know the answer—that same piece of my subconscious accepted, even before the first time, that there would be more.
There has to be more—as long as I keep Graham in my life.
Our tongues slide together, sending tingles to my breasts and a liquid ache between my thighs. Graham breaks away too quickly and turns his hot gaze down to my body. He groans at the sight of my red demi-cup bra.
“Was this under that dress in the elevator?” he rasps, tugging the cups down. My breasts spill out. His expression turns black. “You know what? I think I hate you, too.”
He has a way of making me want to laugh and claw into him at the same time.
Insanity .
That’s what it is. What it has to be.
He makes me insane .
His throbbing cock presses into my belly and I don’t care. Can’t care. With his cologne filling my nose and his hands roaming over my nakedness, it gets harder to think by the second.
Turns out, I don’t need to. He has other plans for me.
“Your hands,” Graham says, brandishing his belt once more. “Put them out in front of you.”
I start to argue, but then he snaps the leather again. The sound instantly takes me back to Saturday night and the slap of his palm when he punished me for denying him. A burst of wetness spreads through my panties. I stretch out my hands.
Grinning, he gives one last crack of the belt. “I’ll have to remember this trick. It seems to have quite the effect.”
His smile disappears as he loops the strap around my wrists, knowing just how to fasten it into a restraint. I pull at the binds to test them, but I can only move my arms slightly before leather bites into my skin.
He takes a step back, looking me up and down, obviously committing the image to memory. Picturing what he sees, I wish I had on cuter panties.
The self-conscious thought makes me shift on my feet. His eyes instantly snap to mine and he frowns.
“Hmm,” he murmurs to himself. “All right then.”
Hooking his index finger through the looped belt, he tugs me into his arms. One hand falls to my ass while the other reaches for something on the island. He leans down, close to my face, like he’s about to kiss me, brushing our lips together until my nipples pebble. Teasing me.
“Not yet. Turn around.”
He spins me toward the island before I can argue. Maybe I should be pissed, but I love his impatience. It shows me how much I affect him.
He’s right—even though he’s the one in control, I feel more powerful than ever.
Graham’s hard warmth flattens my hips into the counter’s edge. His arms come around me to wrap his purple paisley tie through my makeshift belt cuffs. The ridge of his dick rubs over my ass when he stretches up, pulling my hands over my head. He knots the tie around the rack of pots and pans overhead and steps away, leaving me tethered, with my body bent over the island and my back arched.
“Jules,” he growls from behind me. “You look so fucking hot. I’m never going to be able to eat at this island without getting hard again.”
His hand follows the slope of my spine in a long caress. “What do you think?” he hums, pressing himself into my hip and nuzzling my shoulder. “Can you take it like this?”
“Yes,” I say, too breathy. “Stop playing and give it to me already.”
He smiles against my neck. His voice is low. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll leave you here while I have dinner.”
The pans clatter while I pull at my restraints, gritting, “Graham, so help me God …”
He bites the place below my ear, making me hiss. His cock twitches against me.
He’s as stubborn as I am. If I want him to take me right away, arguing won’t help. I have to entice him.
Sticking my ass out further, I run the front of my right foot over the back of my left calf. The motion sends my hip swaying into his groin. He nips me again, punishing me for goading him, then swirls his tongue over the sting.
Graham’s hand slips into the front of my panties, feeling my wetness. With a growl, he starts pawing at the raggedy cotton with both hands, pushing it off. He spins me, once more putting my backside against the island. Above, his rack rattles.
“This way,” he grunts.
Graham sinks to the floor and tears my panties away from my ankles, leaving me bare. With his hands wrapped around the backs of my thighs, he caresses up to my ass. All while staring at the juncture of my thighs like it’s all he can see.
I wish I could run my fingers through his hair. When I inadvertently tug at my bound hands, Graham’s black eyes leap up to mine.
I expect him to gloat or look away, but he doesn’t. He lets me stare right into him, making his point without words.
I’m the one tied up. But he’s on his knees. For me .
“Do you see?” he asks, holding my gaze.
Before I can form an answer, he plants a kiss on each of my hip bones and turns his attention to my pussy. He skims his lips over my clit so lightly that I huff in frustration.
Graham’s grin curves, taunting me with the prick of his stubble. I grumble louder, and his fingers clutch me tighter. He gives me another teasing kiss.
“Gorgeous.” Kiss . “Impatient.” Kiss, kiss.
I try to push myself closer, but he holds me in place.
“Stubborn,” he mutters. Kiss .
His fingers slide around to spread across the tops of my thighs. His thumbs skim over my folds, rubbing me before parting my lips, revealing me to his hungry eyes. With a quiet snarl, he tilts his head and sucks the swollen bud into his mouth.
Sensation spirals through my core, arching my spine as I cry out his name.
He likes that. Yanking my legs apart, he slings them over his solid shoulders and pulls me tight against his open mouth, licking with a muffled curse.
Graham’s tongue slips into my opening, tormenting me with short, shallow strokes and then spearing deeper. My body spasms around him, right on the edge. A second later, he breaks away.
“You’re so slick and ready,” he murmurs. “Tell me you want it.”
My pride refuses to beg him. But then, he burns his midnight eyes into mine and bends forward to blow a cool stream of air right on my clit. Squirming, I pull on my bound hands. His pots and pans ring out again.
With a self-satisfied smile, he lifts me down from his shoulders. Standing, he grinds his silk-covered erection against my trembling pussy.
He steps back and shucks his own underwear, then grabs my left hip and flips me around again, bending me over the island. I nearly convulse when he presses his bare package against my ass. Reaching around, his hand cups my mound.
“Say it,” he demands hoarsely, pressing the heel of his hand against me. “Tell me.”
Delirious, I buck against him. “ Graham .”
He moves his hand just out of my reach. “Say. It,” he rasps again.
The heat of him feels like a brand. Everything between my thighs pulses, needing that steely length to quell the ache. “I want it now,” I bite out, pushing back against him. “ Please .”
He gives me more pressure against my clit while his other palm smacks my ass with a loud whap . “I want to hear that again.”
Just like the belt snapping, the sound arouses me. I moan, beyond shame. “Please. I want it now.”
Another whap —and this time two of his fingers plunge into me. “Again, Juliet.”
Ay Dios mío .
What is he doing to me?
Trussed up, nude, panting and wriggling, literally begging for him. Shameless.
I can only feel the ecstasy he pushes through my veins with each pump of his hand. His thumb slips over my clit while he fingers me. The rack clangs above. My thoughts scatter.
Mindless, I plead, “Please, Graham. I need your cock now . Please .”
A feral sound tears out of him and he goes still for half a second before disengaging. I almost cry at the loss of his fingers, his body heat. A drawer opens and slams shut behind me, where I can’t see.
“I wish I could feel you,” he mutters but holds a condom out long enough for me to see it. I hear the foil rip and feel his blunt head press into the cleft of my ass a second later.
The completely insane part of me wants to tell him to take the rubber off. I’m on the pill—and I want to feel him, too. Much to my dismay.
I shove all such insanity aside and swish my ponytail while I sway my hips, silently taunting him. Graham curves his body against mine until every line of my back touches the planes of his torso. His arms band around my torso. He spreads one hand over the base of my throat. The other rolls my nipples in turn.
A long, keening cry escapes me. His cock twitches at the noise. His fingers stroke over my breasts again, eliciting a whimper this time.
“Shhh,” he whispers, tugging them again. “You like that?”
Too much. So much that a foreign ache throbs somewhere near my heart. “Graham,” I moan, out of finesse. “Please. I need you.”
His erection pulses against my ass. “Mmm,” he murmurs quietly, running his open mouth over the nape of my neck while he holds me closer. “Yeah. I definitely hate you.”
But it doesn’t feel like hatred. It feels tender and erotic and precious. A lot like?—
His hands float down my body until he grips both of my hips. With one tug, he pulls me back and bends me forward, open to him. Before I take my next breath, he shoves in. Deep.
We both call out—me with a broken wail, him in a vicious curse that echoes off the high ceiling and curls my toes.
Groaning, Graham works his hips, stretching and filling me completely. With one more yank, he positions me so his balls slap me every time he thrusts inside, striking my swollen clit with just enough pressure to drive me crazy.
Then he really starts to move. Pumping like a piston, he holds me in place while he takes me higher and higher. Relentless. Maintaining a tight, insatiable pace, never letting up for even a second.
I can barely breathe. With him clutching my hips and my hands tied above me, I almost feel weightless, soaring closer and closer to my climax.
When I’m seconds away from coming, he suddenly pulls out. I scream in protest, but he just delivers another hard slap to my ass.
“Hush,” he whispers, rubbing away the burn.
A second later, he lifts and spins me once again, putting me on the counter to bring us face-to-face. His expression sucks all the air out of my lungs. It’s fierce. Feral. Beyond the realm of ordinary lust.
He pushes between my open thighs and fists my ponytail, pinning me where he wants me. His other hand starts stroking his cock.
“This is what you do to me,” he thunders, roving his hungry black eyes over my body while I strain to get closer to him. “Even when I have you in knots, you fucking own me.”
Graham slides my ass to the edge of the granite and runs his fingers down the front of my body, to the pulsing bud at the top of my folds. As soon as he touches me, I moan again. My head falls back into his hand. He pulls my hair harder, peering into my eyes.
“I’m going to shove back into you and come instantly. I don’t want to. I’m not ready. But I won’t be able to stop because it’s you . Do you see , Juliet?”
He starts to slide into me, but I can’t look away from the roiling depths of his gaze. The velvet turmoil. His fingers whirl over me. “Do you see what you do to me?”
“Yes,” I cry, not sure if I’m agreeing or praising. Not sure of anything except him.
Yes —yes to Graham.
That’s all he wants. Slamming forward, he thrusts deep. The thick length of him is enough to end me. I come hard, nearly sobbing his name.
Graham holds me immobile, watching, working me over the edge. When my body gives a final clutch around his cock, he sloughs out a desperate breath and loses control.
His fingers tighten, and his head falls back on a groan as he finishes. He pulls me into his chest right away, squeezing me tightly before reaching up to unfasten his necktie.
My arms feel like dead weight. Still cuffed together, they fall over the back of his neck. His own hands follow, chasing the tingles with kneading fingers.
And he’s still inside me.
It all feels so good, I can’t stifle the whimper in my throat. Without a sound, Graham bends to put our foreheads together. He rubs his nose along the length of mine.
Our gazes hold. In the quiet, I hear everything he doesn’t say. See that he feels every bit as lost and awe-struck as I do.
My instincts recoil, begging me to shrink away from the intimacy. But I hold still.
I won’t back down if he won’t .
The meaningful silence stretches on, and Graham doesn’t blink. His swirling eyes memorize mine, shifting with all the words neither of us say. A searing flash of clarity tears through me.
This is more than sex . He means something to me .
And I hate it.
After years of swearing I would never form any romantic attachments, I can’t believe I’ve allowed myself to develop such true feelings for any man. But especially a man like Graham .
Shame fills my eyes. Fear, thick enough to choke, swells in my throat.
Graham’s expression breaks. Consternation streaks through his gaze. “Hey,” he murmurs, seeing my tears. He holds me closer, running both hands down my back. “Was I too rough, baby?”
I do my damnedest not to cry. But his simple, honest affection unhinges some part of me that I’ve kept welded shut for a very long time. I sniff the tears back, pinching my lips to stop them.
“No,” I blurt. “I have no idea what’s happening. Just ignore me.”
Graham gives a grim smile. “I think I’ve demonstrated that’s impossible.”
He slides his hands up my forearms and unloops the belt, letting it fall behind him without a care, bringing my prickling fingers to his lips for a series of soft kisses. His face grows more solemn by the second. “I’m sorry, Juliet. We made a deal, and I pushed you anyway. This isn’t what we agreed to.”
I hate his apology even more than I hate losing control. I don’t want to be something he regrets. Not when I can’t quite manage to summon any real remorse.
With another sniffle, I toss my lopsided ponytail back and do my best to brazen it out. “I’m not,” I tell him honestly. “We wanted each other. And we promised we wouldn’t ever pretend, right?”
Graham sighs heavily, dropping our entwined hands to my lap. “Do you have to argue with me about everything? I upset you, and I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry about it. Let me be sorry.”
“No,” I refuse, scowling at him. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”
He moves to grip the edge of the counter on either side of my bare thighs, leaning down into my face. “Well, I am ,” he replies, earnest. “So I guess you don’t always get what you want, bijou .”
The foaming urge to fight rises inside me. “I do.”
Amusement sparks in his black eyes. “And how, exactly, do you plan to make me stop feeling sorry?”
I kiss him. Hard. Slipping my hands up his neck and into his hair, I bring our naked bodies together. When he gives a frustrated grunt and tries to pull away, I bite his lower lip hard enough to taunt him.
That does it.
Graham grabs me, clutching my arms with bruising force, holding me as if he doesn’t know whether he should push me away or pull me closer. I deepen our kiss, sliding my tongue in and then sucking on his.
I know I have him when he lets out another groan and moves to frame my face with his long fingers, positioning me just so. Between us, his cock comes back to life. I stroke both hands down his abdomen, resting them lightly over his groin.
He suddenly tears his face away. Panting, he glares and rubs his thumb over my mouth in an angry swipe. I open my lips just in time to suck it into my mouth and lick the pad before nipping it.
A shudder runs through him. Under my hand, his dick hardens into stone.
“Are you still feeling sorry?” I ask, trailing my fingertips down his length.
His obsidian depths glitter. “You’re the devil, woman.”
“But you’re not sorry anymore, right? You want to do it again?”
Graham exhales through his nose. “Yes.”
I slide down from the counter and out of his reach. Knowing he’ll watch my naked ass, I bend to pick up our clothes. “Then I win.”