Chapter 16 Graham
Chapter sixteen
Graham
She doesn’t resist when I take her hand in mine, lead her out the back door, and to my truck. She sits quietly, heat in her gaze, fingers tangling with the fabric of her skirt, as I drive us to my apartment.
“Harrison—” she starts as I park the truck.
“Is at Caitlin’s,” I say. I get out, slamming the car door, and so does Delilah. She follows me up the steps to my apartment, and I unlock the door. As soon as we’re inside, I kick the door shut behind me, grab Delilah around the waist, pull her body up against mine, and devour her.
She squeaks softly against me, and it only makes me hungrier. Makes me want her more. All of her. Over and over again. As much as she’ll give me.
Fuck, seeing her with that stupid fuckhead at Rick’s made my blood boil. Made me want to chuck my beer across the room at him. And while I spent all night fighting that feeling—shocked I was even having it—right now, in this moment, all I want is to give in.
Who cares that I’ve never felt jealous over a woman before in my life?
Who cares that Delilah deserves the best man on the planet?
And who cares that I’m practically the worst?
My hands gripping Delilah’s waist, I walk her backward, across the room and through the doorway to my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me.
My hands roam across her body, around her waist, the curve of her ass, pulling her tighter against me.
I break our kiss to run my tongue up the side of her neck, hardening instantly when she sighs in response.
“I thought about you all week,” I admit, and I don’t even know why I’m saying it—it just comes out.
“Me too,” Delilah whimpers.
“How you looked, how you felt, how you sounded,” I murmur in her ear.
She sighs.
“Were you sore?” I ask.
She hesitates for a second, and I lean back so I can see her face. She bites her lip. “A little,” she admits.
My cock pulses, and I curse under my breath. “Your pussy was sore because of me?” I repeat, my hand sliding down her body, between her thighs, to gently cup her sex over her dampening panties.
She bites her lip and nods.
Memories flash through my mind. I’d tried to be gentle—I was gentle—but I’m not surprised.
And when we’d finished and I’d looked down to find her covered in blood, something deep and primal had taken over me.
Not lust. No, something protective. Like she was mine now, and nothing would ever touch her.
I shake my head. “I wanna say I’m sorry for that, but that’d be a lie,” I murmur.
Thinking about Delilah going about her day, sore, a constant reminder of me, of what we did, my cock deep inside of her—it’s making me fucking feral.
“The thought of your tight, perfect, little pussy sore because of me?” I run my hand up the back of her head, through her hair, tightening softly, grasping at the nape of her neck.
She opens her mouth, a soft gasp coming free.
“Fuck, Trouble, it just makes me wanna make that pussy sore again.”
She whimpers at that, and shit, I’m gonna have to concentrate hard on not coming in my fucking pants.
“Is that what you want?” I ask.
She nods, and I open my mouth, but she beats me to it. “Yes,” she whines.
I grin. “Good girl.”
I grasp her face, pressing my lips against hers for one last kiss before I spin her around and bend her over my bed.
She yelps in surprise, but I go to work brushing the hair from the nape of her neck and kissing softly across her skin until she relaxes into the mattress.
I run my hands over her body, and even though she’s still clothed in the sexy, little, black dress she’s wearing, the fabric is thin, and I can feel every inch of her.
My hands reach the hem of her skirt, lifting it up and exposing her ass.
She glances over her shoulder, up at me, and I gently knead the flesh of her ass, raising my eyebrows in question. “You okay with all this, Trouble?” I ask.
It’s a serious question.
“Yeah,” she answers with a nod, arching her back.
I reach for her panties, kneeling before the bed as I slowly pull them down, pressing kisses as I go—her cheeks, her ass, the tops of her thighs, all the way down her legs. And when I’ve tossed the panties aside, I gently spread her legs and lean in to run my tongue along her glistening slit.
She bucks in response, whimpering into the mattress.
Fuck, she tastes good. She tastes so fucking good. And the fact that I’m the only man who’s ever tasted her? It makes me so hard, I might come in my pants.
And the thought of any other man ever tasting her?
Utterly unacceptable.
The thought startles me. Almost stops me. Because … what does that mean? But Delilah moans softly, and my head is back in the game, pushing everything from my mind except for her and me and this moment right now.
I stand, unbuckling my belt, undoing my pants, and pulling a condom from my wallet. I slide it on and position myself at her entrance. I can sense her tensing at the contact, and I have to remind myself that while she’s technically no longer a virgin, this is only her second time.
I run a hand gently up her back, leaning down to kiss her jawline. “Relax, Delilah,” I whisper. “Let me take care of you.”
She melts into the bed with a soft sigh, and I sink into her. She’s still tight—so fucking tight—and she whimpers into the mattress, squeezing the bedsheets on either side of her.
“Breathe, baby,” I whisper in her ear. “Are you okay?”
She nods vehemently, unintelligible sounds coming out of her, but a string of them I do understand: “I’m making noise because—it’s good,” she whines.
And that’s all I need to hear. Elbows propped on either side of her, I begin thrusting in and out. Her body jostles on the bed, her moans muffled by the comforter.
“Such a good girl,” I praise, pressing my lips to the back of her head, inhaling the smell of her strawberry shampoo. “So good, so good for me.”
“Graham,” she whines into the sheets.
“That’s it, baby,” I praise. “You take it so well.”
She arches her back, pushing back against me, and I grip the swell of her ass, squeezing hard.
“I love that I’m the only man who’s ever fucked you,” I murmur, pounding into her harder, the idea spiraling within me, cementing itself deep.
“The only man who gets to have this perfect cunt.” Delilah gasps, and I reach up, grasping a handful of her hair at the nape of her neck and leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You like that too, Trouble?”
She nods frantically, moaning.
Fuck, I’m not gonna last long. Normally that’s not an issue for me, but I don’t know what it is about today, this night, this girl—but everything is falling apart at the seams.
Delilah’s moans are pitching higher, louder. And while I’ve only seen her come a handful of times, I know this is what she sounds like right before tipping off the edge.
I steady my pace, thrusting harder, kissing down her neck, finding her wrists with my hands and pinning them down—pinning all of her down, bending her body to my will.
“That’s it, baby, come for me,” I demand.
And seconds later, she does. She cries out something unintelligible and loud, and her pussy clenches around my cock and has me toppling over the edge right after her.
I groan, squeezing her hands under mine and kissing up her neck as my climax rushes through me, working her through the aftershocks.
And when we’ve come down from our high, I whisper in her ear, “I hope you don’t have plans tomorrow; because you’re not going anywhere tonight.”