Chapter 15 #2
The first stroke of his tongue made my knees buckle. He caught me easily, one arm wrapping around my thigh to hold me steady, and then he settled in like a man who had nowhere else to be.
He was thorough. Goddess, but he was so thorough. His tongue explored every fold, every hollow, learning me again with patient dedication. He circled my clit, then retreated. Dipped inside me, then withdrew. Built the pleasure in waves, each one cresting higher than the last.
I was shaking, and as pleasure built inside me, I bowed my head back and moaned. The sound was almost guttural in need, and I flushed with embarrassment as Graham worked his mouth over me.
“There’s a good lass,” Graham murmured, turning his head to kiss my thigh. “Let me hear you. I’ve waited so long to hear you cry out for me, Agnes.”
He sealed his mouth around my clit and sucked, and I shattered.
The orgasm raced over me, sudden and overwhelming, like I was flinging myself over a ledge into the abyss.
I cried out, my hands fisting in his hair, my hips bucking against his face.
He held me through it, his tongue working me through every pulse and aftershock, drawing out my pleasure until I was gasping for breath, my body going limp with pleasure.
When the tremors finally subsided, my legs almost gave out entirely. Graham caught me before I could fall, rising smoothly to his feet and scooping me into his arms.
“Was that all right for you then, darling?” he asked, his voice smug.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
“Good.” He laid me on the bed like I was something precious. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”
I lay there, boneless and dazed, watching as he stripped off his own wet clothes.
He had a chest that made my mouth water—broad and muscled, with a scattering of dark hair that trailed down his stomach and disappeared beneath his waistband.
His tattoos continued up his arms and wrapped around his chest, giving him a fierce look that made my insides shiver with need all over again.
His hands went to his belt, and I propped myself up on my elbows to watch.
“Enjoying the show?” he asked.
“Immensely.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I wouldn’t mind if you did a little dance for me either.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Agnes.” Graham smiled and unfastened his trousers, pushing them down along with his boxers in one efficient motion. And then he was standing before me, completely naked, and my throat tightened.
I’d forgotten how substantial he was. Thick and hard, curving up toward his stomach.
I’d felt him pressed against me, of course, but seeing him again was something else entirely.
Graham’s lips quirked and he put his hands behind his head, swiveling his hips like a stripper would, and I choked on a laugh that dissolved into a deep-rooted need for him.
“Think I should start dancing on the bar?”
“The moves could use a little work, but your body is…” I trailed off as his eyes went dark. Sitting up, I reached for him, wrapping my hand around his length. He sucked in a breath, his whole body taut.
“My body is what?” Graham’s voice came out, a touch shaky.
“Beautiful,” I said, stroking him slowly, loving the way his muscles tensed under my touch. “You’re properly beautiful, Graham.”
“Men aren’t beautiful.”
“You are.” I stroked him again, watching his face. His jaw clenched and his eyes fluttered closed at my touch. I tightened my grip and his hips jerked forward. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Agnes—” His voice was strained. “If you keep doing that, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.”
“We can’t have that then, can we?” Even so, I couldn’t help but lean in and run my tongue over him, needing a taste. He hissed in a breath and swore, and I giggled against him. “Whoops, sorry.”
“Bloody hell, woman, you’re trying my last bit of patience.”
He was moving before he’d even finished speaking, pushing me back on the bed and covering my body with his, settling between my thighs, and the feeling of him—all that warm skin against mine, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress—made me dizzy with want.
“Wait,” I said, pressing a hand against his chest.
He froze immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just—” I pushed at his shoulder. “Lie back.”
He rolled onto his back, looking at me with curiosity. I straddled his thighs and bent down to press a kiss to his chest.
“You’ve had years to think about what you wanted to do to me,” I said against his skin. “I’ve had years too.”
“Bloody hell, woman, I can’t…”
I kissed my way down his body, tracing the path that trail of hair made across his stomach. His muscles jumped under my lips, his breath coming faster as I moved lower.
“Agnes, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” I looked up at him through my lashes. “I’ve thought about this, Graham. I’ve ached to have you in my mouth again. I want to make you feel as desperate as I’ve felt for years.”
His head fell back against the pillow with a groan. “I’m not going to last.”
“You’ll have to.” I wrapped my hand around the base of him and licked a slow stripe up his length. “Consider this a lesson in patience.”
“All I’ve been is patient with you, you damn insufferable woman,” Graham bit out.
He tasted like rain and salt and something uniquely him. I took him into my mouth, as much as I could fit, and felt his body shudder.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Agnes, fuck—”
I set a rhythm, slow and steady, using my hand to cover what my mouth couldn’t reach. His hands fisted in the sheets, his hips fighting to stay still.
I wanted to destroy him. I wanted to unravel him completely, this man who had loved me so patiently for so long. I wanted to give him everything he’d been denied.
I took him deeper, relaxing my throat, and he made a sound like he was dying.
“Agnes, stop—” His hands found my shoulders, pulling me up. “Stop, I’m going to—”
I released him with a wet pop and smiled up at him. “That’s rather the point.”
“Not yet.” He dragged me up his body and kissed me, deeply, and I leaned into it, loving how free I could be with him again. “Not yet. I need to be inside you first. I need to feel you come apart around me.”
The words sent a pulse of heat straight to my core. “Then what are you waiting for?”
He reached past me to the nightstand, fumbling with a drawer, and emerged with a condom. I took it from his trembling hands and rolled it onto him myself, watching his jaw clench with the effort of holding back.
“Now,” I said, ever so politely. “Graham, please, I need you now.”
He rolled us over, settling between my thighs, and positioned himself at my entrance. For a moment, he just hovered there, the tip of him pressing against me, not quite inside.
“Look at me,” he said.
I met his eyes. They were soft and full of wonder, which made my heart ache.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you, Agnes Wright. I have loved you for most of my life. And whatever happens after this? That won’t change. I will love you until I die, and probably long after that.”
My eyes stung. Reaching up, I hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him softly.
“I love you too,” I whispered. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
He pushed inside me.
We both went still.
The feeling of him—the stretch, the fullness, and the overwhelming rightness of it—stole my breath. He was big, and for a moment all I could do was feel.
It was just so right.
The way he filled me.
The way our bodies fit together like they’d been made for this.
“Okay?” he asked, his voice strained.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He started to move.
He was slow at first, showing his restraint. His hips rocked against mine in a rhythm that felt sacred. He kissed me as he moved, my mouth, my neck, biting softly at my ear, and I clung to him like he was the only solid thing in a spinning world.
But the gentleness didn’t last.
It couldn’t. Not with years of wanting burning between us.
My nails dug into his back, urging him faster.
His control frayed and his thrusts grew harder.
He rocked deeply into me, hitting a spot that was made just for him, and I keened out my appreciation as my muscles clenched around him, pulling him more deeply inside me.
“More,” I gasped. “Graham, please—”
He hooked one of my legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, and drove into me harder. The new position had him hitting deep inside me, and stars burst behind my eyes.
“Right there,” I moaned. “Goddess, right there, don’t stop—”
“Never.” His voice was wrecked. “I’m never stopping, Agnes. I’m never letting you go.”
He reached between us and found the spot that had my eyes rolling back in my head, and rubbed in tight circles in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation was too much—the fullness of him inside me, the pressure building, the weight of him above me.
I shattered.
Pleasure crashed over me in waves, pulling me under. I cried out his name, or maybe just screamed, I couldn’t be sure, and felt myself clench around him, my body shaking with the force of it.
Graham followed a moment later, burying himself deep and groaning my name like it was being torn out of him.
We lay there afterward, tangled together, breathing hard.
Graham’s weight pressed me into the mattress, but I didn’t want him to move.
I wanted to stay like this forever, wrapped up in him, safe and warm and finally, finally where I belonged.
He shifted, but I tightened my arms around him, needing to hold him close.
“So,” he said eventually, his voice muffled against my neck. “That was...”
“Yeah.”
“Worth the wait?”
I laughed, threading my fingers through his sweat-damp hair. Or maybe from the rain. It mattered not. “I’m going to need more data before I can make a definitive assessment.”
He lifted his head to look at me, mock offended. “More data? After all that?”
“A thorough researcher never draws conclusions from a single data point.”