11. Maddie #2
Every nerve ending in my body lights ablaze. I do as he commands, slowly, like I know he likes. Letting the dress fall to a puddle of cloth on the floor. He stops me before I can unsnap my bra and slip off my panties. They’re a matching nude lace duo. Apparently he wants me to keep them on.
He slowly holds up one finger, then points at the floor.
I put my hand over my mouth to cover my gasp.
Crawl, he mouths, still pointing at the floor. He looks down, like he needs to emphasize the point, then looks back up at me, his eyes moving slowly over my nearly naked body.
“Right,” he says, his voice shocking me into action. “My plan is to recoup the investment through a series of targeted improvements. I’m not talking about razing the place to the ground. That would be a waste.”
I sink slowly to my knees, feeling the pattern of the rug press against my skin, then lower my hands to the floor.
This is so hot, on the verge of degrading or maybe submission, that I have to stop and take a few deep breaths.
Graham snaps his fingers.
It’s one small sound and it draws my whole attention to him. His blue eyes are intense on mine as I begin to crawl across the rug.
He never looks away from me, even as he continues his conversation.
It sounds to me like he’s talking about the deal he’s been working on—the one that’s been keeping him up at night, the one he can’t let go of even when it annoys the hell out of him—and it makes crawling across the floor even sexier.
If he wants me to know about this conversation, he’ll tell me about it later.
What he wants more is to watch me crawl to him.
I take my time, making each movement as slow and languid as I can. I’m a foot away from him, maybe less, when Graham spreads his knees and unzips his pants.
My mouth waters and my breathing quickens as I settle between his feet.
Graham takes his cock out and runs his fist over it, biting his hip. “That’s fine,” he says, voice terse. “I’m switching over to my people now. Email me with anything else you need.”
He pauses, watching me, his hand still moving on his cock. He’s thick and long, and I’m far too eager to give him everything he wants.
“I’m off the call,” he says, and then he rattles off a list of details.
I don’t really hear any of them. I’m too busy watching his hand.
On the next downstroke, I lean in and lick his tip.
The slit already has a bead of precum, and I lick it away before hollowing my cheeks and taking his head into my mouth.
He’s smooth and already hard as iron. I cover my teeth with my lips and take more of him in.
Graham chokes back a groan. “Whatever you think. Just get it done.”
He hangs up and tosses his phone to the side. It bounces off the chair and falls to the carpet. Then his hands are in my hair and he guides me down his cock.
He’s so hard that he must’ve been thinking about this all day. If I’d known that note was on my door, I’d have thought about it all day, too. Graham’s hips thrust up as I take him deeper, my throat fluttering around him.
“Fuck,” he says, his voice strained. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”
I continue, and his hands work through my hair and gather it away from my face so it doesn’t get in the way.
I lick every inch of him that I can reach.
I wrap one hand around his base and stroke.
It’s wet and messy and I know damn well my lips will be swollen, my lipstick ruined.
But to hear that groan and the way his breath hitches, I fucking love it.
My eyes sting and water as I take more of him down, eager to get him off.
Graham groans again and tells me to be a good girl and take it.
It doesn’t take much effort to stop my movements, not when he starts pumping into my mouth, holding my head gently while he does it.
After a minute he stops, pulling my head away. His abs bunch up below the waistband of his pants. His shirt is an untucked mess. Graham closes his eyes and breathes.
When he opens them again, all I can see his how much he wants me.
“Maddie,” he says, running the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone.
“Hi,” I breathe, not knowing what else to say and not caring.
He growls, and the next thing I know I’m being lifted off the floor and arranged on the chair on my knees, gripping the back of the chair.
He rips the lace of my underwear at my entrance as he kisses my neck and tells me he’s wanted me all day.
The fabric of Graham’s pants brushes against the backs of my thighs, and then he’s pushing into me, his fingers stroking my clit.
“You’re so fucking wet.” His first stroke is deep and hard and takes my breath away. “Did you think of me when you were at that office?” He questions between kisses down my neck and then shoulders.
“All day,” I tell him because it’s true. Every time I finished a task or started a new one or got a drink or ate my lunch or stapled some documents, I thought of him. He rakes his teeth over my shoulder, and I admit in a rushed breath, “I missed you.”
“You should have told me,” he scolds, and fucks into me harder. With a hand on my hip and the other gripping the back of my neck, he pounds into me.
I dig my fingers into the leather and nearly bite down on the back of it to stifle my moans.
His fingers are taking me right to the edge.
I can feel my orgasm gathering, centered over my clit and deep inside me.
“Would you have come to the office and taken me?” I question, although I’m nearly breathless.
“I should have done it already,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.
“Yes,” I gasp, and the orgasm comes on fast and hot. I move my hips back against Graham until he holds me still, filling me while he curses.
“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are?” He leans over me, covering me with his body. “Do you have any idea how bad I want you?”
I can’t answer because I’m holding on for dear life.
Graham pushes in so deep he bottoms out and lets out a low grunt, and then he’s finding his release as well.
He pulls out with a reluctant sigh, then gathers me onto his lap.
He tips his head back to rest on the chair. I kiss down the line of his neck to his collar and he makes a satisfied noise.
We stay like that for a long time, and then Graham offers me a shower and some clothes to borrow.
“Borrow?” I tease. “You want me to spend the night?”
“I don’t want you going downstairs,” he says, and guides me into the shower. “I didn’t have you all week, stay with me tonight.”
Graham
I've never thought much about lying around in the bath before. Baths don't make money, and lying around doesn't, either.
But you couldn’t pay me to get out of the bath with Maddie. It’s fucking heaven.
Her wet hair drips onto my chest, and she curls her whole body up onto mine, and fuck. I don’t care if I lose everything so long as I can hold on to this.
The air is filled with the scent of her shampoo and her body wash and the clean, warm smell of her skin, and part of me wants to save this memory somehow so I have it forever.
Maddie sighs, turning to kiss my collarbone.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask, running my fingers through her hair. It’s slippery from her conditioner and doesn’t snag at all.
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I was just thinking about how content I am.” She lifts her hand from the water and the sound is soothing. I take her hand in mine, enjoying the warmth as she settles into me.
I murmur and kiss the side of her neck, loving how her body reacts. “Is that right?”
“Yes. And...” She makes another soft sound. She’s careful with her words. “I don’t know how to feel about it. I always thought it would take more of a fight. That’s what I was used to, before.”
“Before?”
“When I was younger.”
“You’re young now.”
Maddie presses her sweet body against mine, and that’s almost the end of the conversation.
“I mean before I met you. I always felt like I was fighting for something. I felt like...if I wasn’t fighting and going after my goals, then it would definitely turn out wrong.
And it did, with my ex. I stopped fighting, and everything went to shit. ”
I stiffen at the mere mention of men who had her before me.
We’re both quiet for a minute.
“It’s different with you,” she admits. “I don’t feel like I have to fight for everything.”
I don’t want her to fight for a damn thing. Not when she’s mine. Tension builds in my shoulders and I bite back so much of what I want to say.
Instead, I lean down and kiss her, my heart aching. Because I want to be the person who gives her the world. I want to tell her that.
But something’s stopping me.
Something says I shouldn’t go that far, and shouldn’t offer her that, because maybe I’m not the man she needs. And one day this is going to end. It’s merely an arrangement. A negotiation that has an undefined timeline. She knows it. I know it. But neither of us says it out loud.