Chapter 12 Delilah #2
We stumble into my bedroom, and Graham lays me down on my bed, pressing his body against mine.
“You can stop me at any point,” he murmurs against my ear, then trails kisses down my neck.
His hands roam over me, and I find myself arching into his touch, desperate for more.
The skirt of my sundress is bunched around my waist as my legs wrap around him, and Graham’s hands explore the flesh of my thighs, squeezing gently.
He moves down my body, and I sit up on my elbows just in time to lock eyes with him as he spreads my legs and presses a kiss to my inner thigh.
My jaw hinges open on a sigh, and Graham grins against my skin, kissing me again.
I whimper softly, both at the feeling and at the sight.
“How would your character like being eaten out?” Graham asks.
The question doesn’t quite register with me, and I cock my head. “What?”
Graham chuckles. “Delilah, I’m about to go down on you—you okay with that?”
Heat coils in my belly, and despite the insecurity, the fears, the unknowing about this whole situation, I find myself nodding.
“Words, sweetheart,” Graham reminds me.
I swallow. “Yes.”
“Good girl,” he says, and it has the heat coiling tighter.
He leans down to press open-mouthed kisses to the inside of my thigh, moving up, up, up—then switching to the other thigh.
I watch him from where I lie, perched on my elbows, almost in a trance.
What he’s doing had never once occurred to me, and yet it’s like setting my veins on fire and watching them burn—in the most delicious way possible.
Graham gently reaches under my dress, finding the sides of my panties. “Lift your hips, Trouble,” he tells me, and I do as he says.
He gently slides my panties down my legs, moving out of the way so he can remove them fully and fling them to the floor. And then he repositions himself and spreads my legs once more.
I feel myself blushing hard, knowing that the most intimate part of me is on full display for Graham to see, and suddenly I’m flooded with insecurities, fear, apprehension. I have half a mind to snap my legs shut and call this whole thing off, but then Graham mutters in a low, soft voice, “Fuck.”
His gaze darkens, and he releases a shaky breath. His fingers gently dance up my inner thigh, and I gasp.
“You’re so wet, Trouble,” he murmurs, never taking his eyes from the center of me.
“That’s good, right?” I whisper, torn between humiliation and utter bliss.
“Baby, it’s perfect,” he mutters, and then he lowers himself and slides his tongue along my center.
A whimper of shocked pleasure escapes me, and my eyes roll back.
He does it again. And again. And on the third time, his tongue finds my clit and swirls—and fuck, if I thought being kissed by Graham was good, this is heaven.
“Graham,” I whimper, my head falling back.
He groans against my clit, which only has me whimpering harder. I fall back onto the bed, arching my back, fisting the sheets on either side of me. Whatever he’s doing to my clit, he isn’t stopping, and my pleasure is arching higher and higher.
“Oh god, that feels so good, that feels so good,” I chant, grinding my hips against him. In my right mind, I’d be horrified by that, but all I can think about right now is chasing the pleasure that’s coiling tighter and tighter inside of me.
And suddenly it hits me. I’m about to come.
Sure, I’ve come before. But only alone. Only by myself. Never have I had an orgasm in the presence of anyone else—much less by someone else.
But I only have a moment to dwell on how terrifying that is—how vulnerable it is—before my climax washes through me and I’m crying out, gripping the bedsheets, my legs shaking.
I squeeze my eyes shut as the waves rush through me, and I’m only barely aware of Graham repositioning my dress and then sliding up beside me on the bed, gently pulling my body against him.
Chest still heaving, I open my eyes to find his blue ones staring down at me. He grins. “Did you like that?”
A strangled laugh leaves my lips, then, “Yeah.”
He grins, partially self-satisfied, but also genuine. “Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to my cheek. It somehow feels incredibly intimate, even after what he just did. “Consider it lesson number one.”
“You’re a good teacher,” is all I manage to say.
He grins wider and shrugs. “So I’ve been told.”
Then it hits me. “What about you?” I ask, suddenly feeling embarrassingly selfish for the fact that Graham got nothing out of this exchange here. I start to sit up, even though I have no idea what I’d even do. I’ve heard of blowjobs and handjobs and such, but I can only guess at their execution.
But Graham just chuckles, sitting up with me but shaking his head. “How about we push that lesson to another time?”
I cock my head, unsure. “Really? But aren’t you …” I glance briefly at his jeans, where I’m pretty sure I can see … something.
“Really,” he answers.
“But I feel bad being the only one who had a good time,” I admit.
At this, Graham raises his eyebrows, and then—he laughs. “Dee, if you think I didn’t have a good time with you coming on my face, then you have a whole lot more to learn about men.”
Surprise, embarrassment, and even a little bit of satisfaction courses through me at his words, and I grin softly. “Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says.
I’m quiet for a moment, and then, “But what if I … want to?”
Graham’s smile turns into more of a smirk, and I can feel my face heating again. “Want to what?” he asks pointedly.
I huff out a mildly frustrated sigh at his coyness. “I don’t know, like, what you did to me.”
His grin widens. “If you wanna suck my cock, Trouble, all you have to do is ask.”
My face is on fire, my stomach a tangle of nerves, but deep down …
I do really want to. Why do I even want to do it?
For the longest time, the idea of oral always felt so odd, and even gross, but something about what Graham just did to me makes me want to do everything in my power to bring him the same kind of pleasure.
My gaze flits to his. “Tell me what to do,” I say.
His eyes darken, and he stands, moving to unclasp his belt. I watch, mesmerized, as he moves to his jeans button, then his zipper.
“On your knees, sweetheart,” he instructs, and it sends another flash of heat through my core.
I do as he says, and the action feels both like submission and something so, so naughty. I stare up at him as he pushes down the front of his jeans, his underwear, gripping his cock and pulling it out.
I suck in a shaky breath at the size of him, because, even thought he’d warned me, it does seem … much too large to fit in my mouth.
“What do I …” I swallow. “… do?”
While my eyes aren’t on his face, I can feel the smile in his voice. “What do you wanna do, Trouble?”
I look up at him, then back down, and on instinct, I reach out, wrapping my hand gently around his cock. Graham hisses in a short breath, and I freeze, glancing to him in question.
He huffs out a breath. “Lesson number two, Trouble? Men like their dicks played with. There’s nothing you could do right now that would make this anything short of heaven.”
With a boost of confidence, I take the time to simply move my hand up and down his shaft, my hand barely fitting all the way around him.
I explore the length of him, the tip, taking note of when Graham hisses or tenses up.
It’s almost more exploratory than it is erotic, although it’s definitely turning me on.
“Open your mouth, baby,” Graham says, reaching down cup my face.
I do as he says, flicking my gaze up to his. Graham reaches down to cover my hand and gently guides the tip of his cock into my mouth. I take as much of him as I can, my lips stretching over the size of him, my eyes watering as he fills my mouth.
Graham’s hand moves from my cheek to the back of my head, taking a fistful of my hair and squeezing. “Fuck, look at you,” he breathes, his expression almost pained. “You look so fucking perfect on your knees for me, Delilah,” he praises. “So fucking pretty.”
I whimper in response, and it has his fist tightening in my hair.
“Move back and forth, sweetheart,” he instructs, gently guiding my head forward and back, his cock sliding in and out of my mouth.
With each thrust, he goes a bit deeper, deeper than I ever thought something could truly enter my mouth—and I find myself gagging quietly, tears springing to my eyes, but I push through it, moaning softly, finding myself turned on by the difficulty of it.
“Tap my leg if you want out,” Graham says, his voice husky, low.
I moan in response, shaking my head slightly, forcing myself to take him deeper.
“Fuuuuck,” Graham mutters, throwing his head back.
I move my hand to the part of his shaft I can’t fit in my mouth, pumping, Graham’s groans filling my ears and spurring me on. And through the haze, one thought rises above the rest: I’m making him feel good. Just like he did for me.
And that’s a kind of pleasure I could spend the rest of my life chasing.
I pick up speed, taking cues from Graham as I go, moaning around his cock as he grips my hair in his fists.
“Dee, I’m gonna come,” he mutters, sounding more out of control than I’ve ever heard him.
He’s always seemed so put together, so casual, so nonchalant. And I love more than anything that he’s falling apart because of me.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth or not?” he grits out, eyes closed.
And suddenly it hits me. In my … mouth?
Just then, Graham moans, stilling and forcing me to still with him as he comes … into my mouth. I gasp, pulling back, and gasp again as the remainder of his climax hits me square in the face. I yelp, eyes closed, breathing hard.
I hear shuffling, then feel slight pressure as Graham gently wipes my eyes, urging me to open them. I look into his satisfied yet definitely amused face as he kneels on the ground before me, grinning. “Sorry, Trouble,” he says through a chuckle.
I let out a giggle. In hindsight, it seems like an obvious conclusion, but I’d truly never thought about what happens at the end of a blowjob.
Graham cups my face gently, that smirk still there. “Most girls just swallow, but I kinda like the look of you with my cum all over your face.”
I roll my eyes, and Graham stands, pulling me with him. He presses a kiss to the top of my head before saying, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”