Chapter 25 #2
I don’t answer, lost in the emotions, thoughts, and needs swirling through me, but his hand slows my descent, urging me until my eyes meet his.
“Is your pussy drenched because of me? From the fact that your mouth is wrapped around my cock, that you’re sucking your boss off, that he’s liking it so much, it’s taking everything in him not to blow right this fucking second? ”
I nod the best I can, watching as his head dips, sliding my fingers into his mouth and groaning deep as he sucks them clean. I make another muffled moan, my hips rocking, my legs tightening around emptiness.
“I know, baby. You want something so bad, don’t you?
You want my cock inside your pretty wet cunt?
” I moan and nod, and he drops my hand, smiling wide.
“A little bit more. Take yourself a little closer.” The next sound is far less pleasure and far more panic.
I’m too close as it is, and he is far too entertained right now.
He’s not suffering or as gone as I clearly am, something I need to amend.
I moan around him as I move my wet hand down, but instead of fingering myself some more, I run my fingers, wet from a mix of my pussy and his fingers, over his balls, tugging gently.
His cock leaps in my mouth, and his hand tightens in my hair.
“You fucking tease,” he grits out, but I know I won this battle when he pushes my head deeper onto his cock, hitting the back of my throat.
He moans my name low and needy before he pulls back with a reluctant groan.
I sit on my heels, watching him as I lick my lips, breathing heavy, my legs pressing together with unsated need.
“Fuck, June, you’re so perfect,” he murmurs before he bends, lifting me and laying me on the bed.
“I’m perfect, and I also desperately need to come,” I whine, my fingers gently moving through my center, my entire body jolting with need. I’m teetering on the edge, and I know it would just take one hard press to shatter completely.
But that’s not what I want.
Not right now.
I don’t want an easy orgasm, I don’t want the relief; I want the moment. I want to come with him deep inside of me, his hair falling into his face, his body against mine, breath coasting over my skin.
“Please fuck me,” I say, slipping one finger inside of myself. He watches, enraptured, before he turns, fumbling for his shorts.
“Let me just…fuck,” he says, a bit too unhappy for my liking, not the kind that’s filled with desire, but instead panic. I shift to see he’s holding his wallet and looking over my naked body, forlorn.
“Fuck? Yes, that’s the goal, Graham.” His jaw tightens.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says. “Do you?” I bite my lip and shake my head.
“As much as I’m a progressive woman who believes women should be fully in charge of their own sexual health, the mere idea of going into the drug store in my small town and having to ask someone to unlock the condom section makes me want to die a little,” I admit.
“Fuck,” he grins, pulling a hand through his hair. His cock is hard, the tip red and leaking precum, and suddenly, all I want is for him to stretch me, to fill me.
And I trust him. I know it deep in my chest, the same way I knew that very first night I was safe to go to his room with him.
“I have an IUD,” I say without overthinking it, capturing his attention.
“And despite that one night, I’ve never actually had a one-night stand.
I was tested after, and I was all clear.
” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and he takes a slow step toward me.
The need melts away for a moment, sincerity taking its place as his hand comes out, brushing my hair back as I prop myself on my elbows to look at him.
“You want to take me bare?”
The mere idea has my pussy tightening, but I attempt to stay focused.
“Is this…” I lick my lips, biting the bottom one, swollen from sucking him off. “Is this a one-time thing?” He pulls me into sitting, my legs over the bed as he kneels between them, his hands cupping my cheeks.
“It was never a one-time thing. I was just too stubborn to realize it.” My pulse goes into overdrive, and it has nothing to do with how turned on I am and everything to do with his words and the way he’s looking at me.
This is different.
This isn’t a night of fun.
This isn’t just getting lucky and moving on with our lives.
This isn’t convenient, finding the closest person to scratch an itch.
This is a bubbling pot boiling over. This need has been simmering. This is a desire that turned into friendship and then into something more.
This isn’t temporary.
This is the beginning of something big, something important, and with the way he’s looking at me, I know it to be true.
“If you want, I can run out, grab a dozen condoms, and come back, fuck you into oblivion. If you want, I’ll use my hands and my mouth to make you come again and again until we get back to Seaside Point tomorrow, then I’ll fuck you for real with protection.
If you want to wait a week, a month, if you want dates and assurance and doctor’s printouts, I’ll do it, just say the word, June.
But none of those circumstances will change the fact that I’m tired of pretending you don’t mean everything to me.
I’m tired of pretending I’m not absolutely head over heels for you, that I’ve never felt this kind of pull for a woman, that I know somewhere deep down that you’re going to be in my life for a long fucking time. ”
I reach up, covering his hand with mine on my cheek.
“You mean that, don’t you?” I ask,
“That you’re going to be in my life?” I nod.
“June, you’ve taken up every waking moment of my life since you fell into it.
How could you believe otherwise?” His words strike me with their sincerity, and with the need blooms again, more insistent than ever.
I shift, lying back onto the bed, shimmying back until I’m on it completely.
“Fuck me, Graham,” I mumble as he groans, putting a knee on the bed.
His cock bobs before me, and I fight the urge to suck him off again, but I need him more.
He moves, shifting onto the bed over me, planting his arms in the bed on either side of my head, covering me as he settles between my legs, and suddenly, everything changes.
The frantic energy is gone, replaced by a slower, headier need.
The look in his eyes goes from lust-filled to something fonder, sweeter.
Reaching between us, my hand wraps around his cock. His eyes flutter shut for just a moment, a jagged breath leaving his lips as I line the tip up with my entrance.
It’s different this time. Utterly and completely and beautifully different, and we both know it. The truth of that glows in my chest, burning, flickering, and warming my entire being, and that same look is reflected on his face.
This is not a one-night thing.
This is something bigger, something better. This is giving in to whatever strange power has been continually pulling us together, a bond of luck and chance and fate bringing him to me.
“I’m so gone for you, June,” he says before he slides into me, slow and steady, stretching and filling me until he’s planted deep, making me feel whole for the first time since that night.
“Oh god,” I moan, my eyes drifting shut with the overwhelming pleasure of having him inside me. His hand leaves the bed, shifting to grip my chin, to force my face to stare at him, and my eyes pop back open.
“No. Eyes on me, lady luck. You’re going to let me watch it take over you. Watch what happens to the very first time I make you mine for good.”
“Graham,” I murmur as he slides out slow, then slams back in hard, filling me. I gasp, my legs widening to take him deeper, and a small smile plays on his lips, his dimple coming out. Like this, the smile feels almost sacred, something special and important, a look reserved just for me.
“I know, June. God, I fucking know. You feel so fucking good.”
“I need—”
“You’ll get it,” he says before I can tell him what I need, not that I think I could put word to it.
“Until then, you’re going to be a good girl and take what I’m giving you.
” Another slow retreat and hard thrust. “Next time, we can be wild. Next time, I’ll fuck you face down, slam into you, and watch that ass that’s been teasing me shake with each thrust.” I tighten around him at the mental image, and his own eyes flutter, not closing completely as if, just like me, he doesn’t want to miss a moment.
“Okay,” I breath as he slides out, then slams in. “Fuck!”
“God, you’re so fucking wet, June. So fucking wet and tight and perfect. And mine. All fucking mine.” My fingers dig into his ass, trying to get him deeper, to get more of his skin on mine as I gasp and writhe on the bed, pleasure deepening and growing in my belly.
“Yes, yes,” I moan, the words coming out breathy and nearly incoherent. “Yours. Fuck, I’m yours.” A deep groan leaves his chest with my words, his head falling into my neck as his hips start to move faster, fucking me harder than before, grunting with each movement.
“All mine. You’re all mine, June. I’m never letting you go,” he moans, and my orgasm starts to crest. I don’t know if it’s just the long build-up to this, or his words or the pace, or what, but I’m tipping the edge in moments, my nails digging into his back as I hold him close, trying to hold on, to savor every moment.
“Now,” he groans, slamming in, head lifting to look at me. “Come with me.”
That’s what does it.
Or maybe it’s the way his eyes lock on mine, the way his face goes somehow soft before the pleasure takes him, as if he wants to cement this moment in his mind, as if he really, truly believes that this is starting our own version of forever, everything and nothing at all changing in a moment.
Either way, I hold his gaze as long as I can before I scream, pleasure washing through me in intense waves as my head falls to the bed, my back arching as I come hard. Graham follows, bellowing my name as he slams in deep, staying there as we both shake with the force of our orgasms.
His body relaxes after a few moments, though he stays planted deep, and I tighten a bit as aftershocks move through me.
A small groan leaves his lips before he peppers small kisses to my neck, his scruff scratching along my sensitive skin.
My breathing is ragged, and I try to catch it, my heart so full I can’t think straight.
A hand lifts, and I brush my fingers through his hair, a small laugh leaving my lips.
His head lifts, and he looks at me, a brow raised.
“I guess having only one bed really was lucky, wasn’t it?” I ask, and that shit-eating grin spreads across his face.
“The luckiest,” he says, before we both burst into loud, raucous laughter that, sooner than later, is replaced by soft moans and heavy breathing as we start everything all over again.