Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
For just a moment, I have the presence of mind to think I’d better get my penny back before we leave this hotel room, since I have become emotionally attached to that tiny piece of metal, but then Graham’s lips are on mine, and I can’t think about a single other thing.
Because Graham Hawthorne is kissing me.
Deep.
And hard.
It’s not like the last kiss, either. This one is filled with pent-up emotions, need, lust, and want, and pining and yearning, and in some strange way, it’s a comfort to know it hasn’t been in my head; it hasn’t been one-sided all along.
The kiss tells me everything I need to know—Graham has been as into me as I have been to him; he’s just much better at hiding it.
His hand is in my hair, and my chin is in the palm of the other one, his fingers spread along the side of my jaw. He uses his grasp to guide my face where he wants it, taking what he desires, and I let him.
“Graham,” I murmur as his lips travel, licking down my neck and pulling my earring into his mouth, little dangling suns today, making me gasp.
“Mmm?” he says against my skin, and the sound travels straight between my legs.
“Are we, uh,” I swallow, stumbling on my words.
His fingers brush along the skin of my belly, gripping the bottom of my loose cover-up top, pulling it over my head, and tossing it to the side before his lips meet my skin again, pressing kisses to the bare skin at my shoulder.
My breathing goes shaky as I try to hold onto a single thought. “Are we, uh, really doing this?”
He pulls back, a wide, happy grin on his lips, that dimple taunting me, and everything in me melts.
“I sure as fuck hope so,” he murmurs. He looks so boyish like this, years younger, without the stress of work and what I now think may have been the stress of having to keep these pent-up emotions inside. Still, in a heartbeat, his face changes, eyebrows furrowing, his body stilling. “Unless—”
I shake my head fervently. “No, no, I very much want—” I start, but I’m stopped with another deep kiss, lips and tongues colliding in a preview of what’s to come.
Then his head dips again, pressing to my lips and nipping the bottom one before making the same trail down the other side of my neck.
My hands roam his back, finding the bottom of his shirt and tugging weakly, my mind muddled with lust. Thankfully, he gets the hint, stripping it off before returning to his mission.
His body moves, small, staggering steps toward the bed, moving me with him as his hand lifts to where the tie at the top of my bikini top is, tugging until my top comes loose.
He pulls back for just a moment to watch the material fall, a deep, satisfying groan leaving his lips as a nipple is revealed.
“Fuck, your tits have been haunting me.”
I giggle at the thought, but the sound melts into a moan when his hand lifts, cupping and rolling a nipple.
My head falls back as his free hand tugs at the back string of my bikini, tossing the material aside, then slides down my belly to the button of my shorts.
I slide my arms around his neck to pull him closer until we’re chest to chest, skin to skin.
His head lifts, moving back to my lips to kiss me as my fingers sift through his hair, taking a page out of his book to take what I want, to hold his head where I can devour his mouth as he gets my shorts undone.
Soon, they’re sliding down my legs with my underwear, and he’s pushing me to the bed until I’m sprawled before him.
He watches as I settle in, his hands moving to the button on his shorts, sliding them and his underwear down until he, too, is naked.
His cock bobs free, and my mouth waters.
“What’s this?” he asks, moving closer to the bed, his fingers grazing the small red and black tattoo on my hip. “I didn’t see it last time.”
“You were a bit preoccupied,” I murmur. “It’s a ladybug. She brings me good luck.” His fingers run over the ink on my skin again, trailing in and down until he’s inches from where I’m desperate for him. Chills run through me.
“My lady luck.” His voice is so slow I almost miss it, but god, that name on his lips, I’m so fucking grateful I didn’t. “What else did I miss?” he asks, and I bit my lip, lifting a shoulder.
“Not sure.”
“I guess I should look every inch over, shouldn’t I?” he asks.
“You can look later,” I murmur. “I want you, Graham.” A deep, needy groan leaves his lips, but he shakes his head all the same.
“No, no. I made that mistake last time, rushing through. I thought it would be enough, thought it would ease my mind, but it didn’t.” He bends, pressing his lips to the tiny ladybug on my hip. “It made it worse. It left me wondering every day.”
“Wondering?” I say in a breath, watching as his tongue darts out to lick my skin before standing straight once more. “About what?”
“What your face would look like when I did this,” he says, hand sliding up my belly, cupping my breast. “And this.” His thumb and forefinger come together over my nipple, pinching and rolling and causing me to gasp. A smile spreads on his lips, and this, too, is different than last time.
The smiling. The teasing.
They’ve been coming easier, but tonight, it’s like he gave up trying to keep them in, decided it wasn't worth the effort.
“Yeah, that’s the look I was hoping for. Though it is much prettier in person,” he says, then drops his head, circling his lips on my nipple and sucking. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him to me, enjoying his skin on mine. His hard cock bobs, brushing my thigh, and I moan.
His hand slides down my belly as his lips continue to move on my nipple, and I gasp as his middle finger grazes over my clit. I’m wet and needy, more than ready for him.
It’s just like the first time, and I know if I let him, my dominant man will have me writhing in just a moment.
But while Graham may have been daydreaming about the faces I’d make, my own mind has been preoccupied with what he would look like if he lost that tight grip on his control.
It ignites something in me, hotter than the need to have relief of my own, and I sit up, then roll until I’m standing beside him.
“Is everything—” he starts, looking concerned, but I just grin.
“Sit,” I order, pushing him toward the bed.
“What?”
“You had your fun last time. Now it’s my turn.”
“June, you—”
I glare at him.
“You told me next time, I’d get to suck you off.
This is next time.” His hand captures my jaw, tipping it to look at him, and my breathing hitches when I see the hot look in his eyes.
He sits on the edge of the bed, and I grin in pleasure, but then squeal as his hand moves to my hips, pulling me into him.
I let out a little shriek, my hands moving to his shoulders.
“Only if you touch yourself while you do. Only if you get yourself all nice and wet for me.” He presses hot kisses all along my jaw to my ear, nipping the lobe and making me suck in a breath.
He reaches for my hand, grabs it, then settles it over my center, making me cup my pussy.
“Can you do that for me, June?” I nod fervently, then shift away, moving to my knees quickly, eager to make both of us feel good.
My hand, still between my legs, starts to wander, sliding over my clit as my mouth wraps around the tip of his cock.
We both moan as I use my tongue to slide over it, then slowly lower my mouth onto him.
His hands come to my hair, gathering it and pulling it away from my face.
I slide a finger into myself as my lips hit the base, and I let out a heavy breath.
“Are you fingering yourself with a mouth full of my cock?” His voice is low, and I nod, sliding in another finger, my thumb grazing over my clit as I settle my free hand on his thigh to steady myself. “That’s it. Ride those, lady luck. Get yourself nice and wet for me.”
I moan around him, the sound muffled, and the combination has my pleasure ratcheting. His hand tightens in my hair just a bit, his other hand gripping his knee as if trying to restrain himself, and I feel the smallest jerk of his hips before he stops, letting me take the lead.
But that’s not what I want.
I want him to use me.
With that in mind, I cover his hand on my head, pushing it deeper, then pulling it back, showing him what I want, what he can take. A deep groan leaves his lips, his head falling back as his cock throbs in my mouth. “Fuck, June, you want me to fuck your face?”
I nod as best I can, moaning as my hips speed up with the mere thought. I don’t have to rely on my imagination for long, though, because Graham takes full advantage, and soon the room is filled with both of our pleasured sounds.
I’m on my knees before him, his hand in my hair, forcing me to look at him as he stares down at me between his spread legs, using the hand in my hair to fuck my face, and I have never felt hotter in my life. I’ve never felt more needed, never felt more desired, never felt more in control.
“You look so fucking pretty, your lips wrapped around my cock, eyes watering. Is your pussy soaked for me, June?” he asks after a minute of this.
I take him in deeper and moan my answer.
“Show me.” My brows furrow as I suck on him, but he reaches for my arm, tugging on my bicep.
“Show me your hand, June. Show me just how wet you are for me.” I groan, sinking my fingers deeper to get even more wet from my center before pulling out and lifting my hand.
His free hand wraps around my wrist and pulls it closer for inspection.
The hand in my hair pulls me deeper until his cock hits the back of my throat, and he groans, though I don’t know if it’s from my hand or my mouth.
“God, you really are a wet girl, aren’t you? Is this all for me?”