27. Haelyn
TWENTY-SEVEN
HAELYN
My eyes remained glued on his back as I felt the warmth leaving my body along with him. Cold swept in my limbs, the door whooshing air inside when it closed and at the same time, it knocked the wind out of my lungs.
I raised my fingers and traced them over my lips—the very same lips that had a taste of Mr. Graves’ mouth and the roughness of him. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his body pressing on mine and the whisper of his breath from my neck to the inside of my thighs.
I couldn’t believe he did that.
And though I wouldn’t have ever made the move myself, I still dared to arch my bottom into his, provoking him to accept the challenge my lips were begging him for. Deep down, I prayed he’d be at least tempted to take a bite.
Now, I wished he never had because I was never going to forget the feel of him. The skin surrounding my mouth burned from the hunger in our kiss. But it was wrong. In all the right ways.
Us, doing anything else besides work, was wrong. Sara warned me. He wanted nothing more than a warm body in his bed, and yet my knees shook at the reminder of the position we were in two minutes ago.
Was this always his plan with women? Taking care of them, showing them he cared, being nice until they invited him into their bed? Or was he like that only with me?
It felt real. The way he held me in my office that day, even the stupid way he brought me here. And the kiss… the kiss was too powerful to be just an act.
Gosh, he knew how to make a woman desperate.
When he stepped to the door, I almost caught him by his elbow, the word ‘stay’ craved on my tongue, but I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. I was looking for something serious and he was looking for some fun. And then there was… Chad. Though a part of me knew he couldn’t give me what I wanted, I also grew attached to him and whatever that moment between Mr. Graves and me was, made me feel like a goddamn cheater.
Shit. I was a slut, wasn’t I?
I called out Chad for not inviting me out or not talking to me more and what did I do? Betrayed him.
As much as that realization hurt, I couldn’t make the throb in my panties stop, urging me to go and bring him back inside.
“Stop, stop.” I moved back and forth in my room, hitting my temples with the edge of my palms.
How could I allow something like that to happen? My mother was between life and death and Chad probably replied to my previous text.
But goddamn it, then he kissed me and all my problems disappeared. I was no longer a broken vase, I bloomed and reborn in another world.
Spend some kind of vacation I didn’t deserve nor need with my boss? I practically attacked him, and now my thoughts were swirling in an on-going tornado with one destination—his lap.
No.
I needed to find my anchor. I needed to let the bad thoughts, the merciless memories flood my mind again. I needed to go back to that dark place that kept me grounded. I couldn’t let the illusion of safety and desire blind me.
What I needed to do was remember who I was and what kind of life I had.
Yet nothing worked.
“Goddamn it,” I murmured, then decided to go to the kitchen and grab myself a glass of water, hoping it was going to wake me the hell up.
I opened the door quietly and with each small step I took, the ache between my legs throbbed harder and harder. The first view that came in front of my eyes was the back of the couch where Mr. Graves’ was in the dim light of the night, so instinctively I turned to the left, where the kitchen was.
When a low grunt flew past my ears, I stopped short, vibrations humming in my body. Without putting much thought into it, I whirled on my toes. I only needed one step to the side to see over his couch and when my gaze landed on him, I bit back a gasp.
Mr. Graves barely fit on the three-person sofa and had his knees parted as his head fell down on the armrest, a small frown dancing on his forehead. I slid my eyes down to where his hand was wrapped around his dick which sat out of his boxers and inclined on his stomach. His hand pumped roughly, the movement making a slick noise that had my knees go numb.
He was jerking off, knowing anyone could come at any second and I was standing there like a creep.
Shit. I was staring.
What the hell was I doing, invading his privacy like that?
God, he was hot.
His abdomen glistened with sweat and all I could think about was picking it up with the tip of my tongue as he worked himself in front of me.
I knew I had to leave, but my legs weren’t listening to my brain. I was frozen.
Every muscle in his body tensed and when his fingers curled into his hair, I squeezed my legs together, hungry to watch him finish on his stomach.
But right as he was about to come—with his eyes closed, teeth sunk into his bottom lip, and head thrown back—he let go of his cock, sighing heavily. I didn’t dare move, caught in a trance. When his body stopped pulsing, he grabbed onto his dick again, this time picking up speed.
Was he… building up his orgasm?
My fingers rolled to my nipples and I flicked them as I grew hotter and hotter on the inside. Suddenly, observing him wasn’t enough and before I knew it, I let myself drive by the lust and made my way to the edge of the couch.
“Mr. Graves,” I said in a low murmur.
He lifted his head, but he didn’t cover himself from me. He squinted in the darkness, probably trying to figure out whether he was dreaming or not.
Unable to refrain myself, I let my gaze wander back to where his hand was still holding his hard dick. I swallowed the dryness in my throat and bit my bottom lip.
He was thick and ready and I knew without needing him to tell me that I was on his mind when he touched himself tonight.
“Haelyn,” he said my name like a melody, the word rolling out of his tongue with need and despair. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I?” I took his hand away, not recognizing myself. I have never in my life given a blowjob willingly, but because I felt like I had to. Yet the image of him needing to jerk off after our kiss set me on fire.
He stilled. “Haelyn.” This time it was a warning, which I ignored.
“Yes, Mr. Graves?” I fluttered my eyelashes, acting innocent, even though my blood hummed with pleasure.
Merielle always told me how good she felt when she pleased David and I never understood how. Now, when I was eager to touch him, I understood it. The look of uncontrol on his face makes it worth it when it’s a man like him—the kind of man who’s always in control.
He threw his head back. “Fuck, call me that again.” He kept his tone quiet, probably not wanting his friends to hear us. “Fuck my dick with your hand.” His voice was a groan and he allowed me to feel him between my fingers. His veins pumped when I picked up in speed, but suddenly, he looked at me and caught me by my hand. “We shouldn’t do this,” he croaked, but nothing in his voice could fool either one of us. He didn't want this; he was desperate for it. I could hear, see, and feel it. The ways his eyes held mine before traveling down my body, and darkening as they stopped on my chest.
I hooked a knee over him, then the other until I came into a straddling position, just below his dick. His eyes followed me the whole time and God knows what had gotten into me that night because I leaned down and talked on his lips.
“You mean I should stop?” I challenged, then snuck my hand between our bodies and let out a small moan when I got a hold of him again.
He was big enough for my hand not to grasp it whole, but I hoped I was good enough to please him.
For a second, it seemed like all the need and lust faded away as he lifted a hand and twisted one of my curls between his fingers. He took it, placing it behind my ear where his finger continued its path all the way to my chin. I kept my exhale locked inside, my speed slowing as I caught myself in the trace of his eyes.
Mr. Graves’ hand brushed my face, taking its time to get familiar with how my skin felt and reacted. I closed my eyes, letting him survey me as a sense of calm washed over me. His breaths were no longer erratic, but calculated like he was saving up some more while his hands moved to the back of my head and caught me in a grip.
He massaged my hair and I shot my eyes open, feeling dizzy under his touch. “I don’t want you to stop,” he confessed, caressing my cheek with his thumb. I Inhaled deeply, barely able to keep my eyes open. “Fuck, you feel better than I would’ve ever imagined,” Mr. Graves told me, his hands dropping to my shoulders, down my arms, and to my hips. He squeezed at the same time he squeezed his eyes shut so hard, that it almost seemed painful. “But no matter how badly I want to—and I fucking want you, Haelyn—we can’t do this.”
I knew I should feel horrible because he refused me—even when I had my hand around his thick cock—but instead, I found myself smiling at the idea of the battle happening inside his mind. He wanted me as much as I wanted him and while I knew the right thing to do was return to my room and act like this never happened, I couldn’t. Not when his fingers dug into my skin, burning holes through my clothes, and not when his eyes watched me as if I was the most beautiful woman on this earth.
My body squirmed on him at the shiver of anticipation running down my spine. He stilled and I realized I didn’t hold him anymore, but replaced my hand with the friction of my ass on top of him.
He grunted, then let his fingers undo the string of my robe. I continued to move on his dick and I sucked in a deep breath when he snuck his hands under the material, dropping from my shoulders until it landed beside my body.
“This will ruin everything between us,” he murmured but ran his fingertip over the curve of my breasts.
The cold air reached my naked skin and while usually I would’ve gotten rid of my clothes only under a blanket and far away from his sight, this time I straightened my spine and owned it. I pushed my chest further, letting him explore each strap of my bra, teasing me right above my panties after.
“I don’t think I care,” I whispered.
My thighs picked up speed and he grunted, moving both of his palms on my breasts and grasping so tightly I was sure the skin turned red. But I didn’t mind the roughness. If anything, it made me wetter.
From the friction, my panties pushed aside the slightest, but it was enough to get a sense of how his cock felt. He was warm and ready, making the butterflies in my stomach go wild. I was sure that was enough to bring me over the edge.
“This fucking lingerie,” he bit out, hooking his finger under every strap, taunting me with his touch, but not giving me enough. He moved his palm to my throat, squeezing it so hard I had to slow down the movements on my hips as I watched him in the eye. “Were you planning to wear it for someone else or did you bring it for me?” Mr. Graves’ tone was as sharp as a knife, his teeth locking on top of each other.
I blinked, yearning to feel more of him. I wanted more and everything. “It was for you, all of them,” I admitted.
He let out a grunt, then reached to the throbbing spot between my legs. “Have you thought about me, love?” The tip of his thumb ran circles on my clit while his other fingers teased my lips.
My back arched as I shook my head. “No,” I lied.
Before I even had time to register what he was doing, he placed his fingers on my hips and flipped me down until I was under him. His left hand came beside my head and the right one continued its path inside my pussy.
Oh God.
I was already shaking when he did nothing more but touch my clit and now that two of his fingers were inside me, I could feel the sudden, embarrassingly quick orgasm in my entire body as my back arched repeatedly under him, riding his fingers without even thinking. He had total control over my body, and now he knew it too.
“You little liar,” he murmured, taking my lip between his teeth. “When you woke up with your panties drenched, who were you thinking about?” He didn't give me any break after the first wave of pleasure settled in my bones.
As he spoke, his fingers fastened, pushing so hard into me I was hitting my head on the armrest. My fingernails dug into his muscular arm, looking for an anchor as I slipped and slipped into the dream of what his hands were doing to my body. His head lowered and he took the bra’s coupe from my breasts, twirling my nipple with his teeth.
I was soaking wet and the sounds of his fingers slamming into me were growing louder and louder.
“Tell me,” he pushed.
Tell him what?
I struggled to search in my head for what he previously said. He was waiting for me to tell him who I was thinking about in my wet dreams. Though the man never had a face, I recognized him, but I was too much of a coward to admit the truth, even to myself.
“It’s you I was dreaming about,” I croaked out, my voice cracking as his fingers twirled inside me.
When my hand moved between our bodies because I was eager to touch him as well, something slipped on the floor with a thud. We both ignored it as I stroked him and he fingered me until all I saw were stars.
But we froze when a door opened—the one that was right behind his couch. I stopped moving and he covered my mouth with his big hand, while he continued to touch me.
What was he doing?
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing? You know Nadia is a light sleeper,” Sebastian asked and I locked my eyes shut, knowing he only needed to take two more steps and he could’ve caught us.
Oh my god.
I started to ride his hand, unable to keep still while he was guiding me to my orgasm. His palm pushed harder over my mouth and I bit onto his skin, my eyes rolling in my head.
“Yeah. I dropped my phone,” he said, and I was amazed by how calm his tone was.
My legs started to shake and my toes curled on the sheets, my insides clenching as I was reaching the peak. “Mmm.” My moan barely made it past his lips.
I forgot Sebastian was there and gave in, a powerful shudder cascading through my body. My limbs gave up as I felt my wetness swimming out of my body and my eyes squeezed at the painfully rough orgasm I had.
“Do you want a beer?” Sebastian asked and while I was recovering from the rush between my legs, Mr. Graves took his fingers out and dug them into my mouth. I immediately arched my back, feeling his stonehard dick on my stomach.
“Go back to your wife,” Mr. Graves said in a harsh tone, pushing into my stomach while I was licking my cum off his fingers.
“Nah—”
“Get the fuck back into your room,” he spat out.
“Jesus,” his friend murmured, and Mr. Graves didn’t wait to hear the door clicking shut when he lowered himself on me.
He slipped his hand out of my mouth and threw my legs over his shoulders, then ran a finger between my wet lips. “Should we go to your room?” he asked, teasing the sensitive spot.
I shook my head. “No.” The word was more like a moan. “We can stay here.”
“Why?”
“It… turns me on,” I breathed out, watching how my chest fell and rose with rapid breaths.
He leaned and covered my clit with his mouth, not touching it yet. “Do you want me to call him back?” he asked, the tip of his tongue barely touching me. It was enough to make me shiver. “Do you want him to watch us as I eat you?”
“God, yes,” I found myself saying, pushing myself into his mouth.
“Such a bad girl,” was the last thing he said before he latched out on my pussy. I arched back, pressing my head into the armrest while my toes pushed into the couch.
“Tristan.” I said his name for the first time in my life. “I want you.”
He slid his tongue between my lips, gathering my juices. Then, he looked at me, his eyes darkening. “That I can’t give you. But I can make you come until you forget how to walk.” He smirked right before diving back in.