16. Graham #2
Graham kissed lower, taking his time as Riley leaned back on her hands.
He parted her thighs, breathing in the musky, sweet scent of her arousal.
Her pregnancy had made her deeply swollen and wet, glistening for him.
He stayed attentive to every shift she made, following rather than directing, letting her guide him when she wanted more and slow him when she needed it.
His tongue traced the slick folds of her pussy, lapping up her juices before finding her sensitive clit, swirling over the swollen bud until her hips lifted off the mattress.
Her fingers tightened in his hair.
“Graham.”
He glanced up again, two of his fingers sliding deep into her dripping wet channel, pumping slowly while his mouth gleamed with her taste.
A flush had spread across her face, and the sight almost wrecked what remained of his restraint.
“You’re getting hours of this,” he said, his voice a low, rough rumble. “I plan on making up for every minute I missed.”
Riley pulled him closer instead of answering, spreading her legs wider to open herself completely to him.
Graham returned his attention to her sweet spot, sucking her clit and fingering her slick tightness, refusing to rush as she moaned his name.
When her breathing turned frantic, Graham rose from beside the bed, and the pull across his collarbone made him pause long enough for Riley to catch it.
Her hand came up at once. “Still okay?”
“Yes.”
“That answer took too long.”
A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. Even now, after everything he had done to prove he could listen, she still knew exactly when he was trying to muscle through pain.
“I’m okay enough,” he amended. “But you tell me if anything feels wrong.”
“I will.” Riley reached for him and drew him closer, her gaze dropping to his rigid, leaking cock. “Come here.”
Graham followed.
She lay back against the mattress as he stepped between her thighs. He kept one hand at her waist and let the other settle where she could guide it, refusing to fall back into the old habit of assuming he knew what she needed before she said it.
Riley’s fingers curled around his uninjured shoulder.
“Watch this side,” she said, touching near the bandage.
“I am.”
“Then stop trying to prove anything.”
Graham brushed his mouth over hers. “I’m not proving it. I’m listening.”
“Good.”
She kissed him again.
The urgency that followed carried none of the panic he remembered from their younger years, when every stolen moment had felt borrowed from rent payments and closing shifts.
This was different. Riley stayed with him because she wanted him there, and Graham refused to waste that gift by rushing past what she gave him.
When they finally came together, he kept the first movement slow. Standing between her parted thighs, he guided his thick, hard cock to her dripping core. He pressed forward, groaning as her slick, tight channel stretched to take him in.
Riley’s grip tightened on him. She rested her forehead against his for a moment, absorbing the thick fullness of him buried inside her, and Graham stopped there, waiting until she shifted closer on her own.
“Still okay?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
“Yes.” Her mouth found his again. “Don’t stop asking.”
“I won’t.”
They found a rhythm together, awkward for only a moment while Graham adjusted his stance around the bandage and Riley’s changed balance.
He pumped into her wet pussy with shallow, deliberate thrusts, mapping out the new depth of her.
Each correction mattered more than pride.
If something pulled wrong, he shifted. If Riley guided him differently, he followed.
The bed creaked behind her.
After a while Riley touched his chest. “Down.”
Graham understood.
He slid his cock out with a wet drag and helped her onto the mattress, moving with her until she rested on her side.
He settled in close behind her, leaving room for her belly rather than crowding her forward, one arm curved around her waist. He lifted her top leg and guided his stiff shaft back into her slick opening, filling her deep from behind.
Resting behind her eased the frantic pace, allowing him to pay attention to the tight friction of her walls gripping him.
Riley reached back, her hand sliding along the nape of his neck.
Graham pressed his mouth near her temple. “Tell me I’m home.”
Her hand stilled for one moment.
Then she turned her face so he could see the edge of her smile.
“You are home.”
The words nearly destroyed his ability to think.
Riley shifted closer against him, pushing her ass back to take him deeper. “Graham, right there. Don’t stop.”
He obeyed, staying behind her as the mattress moved beneath them.
His hips drove forward in long, slow thrusts, hitting exactly where she wanted inside her slick channel.
His hand traveled from her waist to her side and rested there, avoiding the curve of her belly while he kissed the back of her shoulder.
Home.
Not the penthouse. Not the locker room. Not an arena roaring his name.
This room. This woman. The child he had almost lost the right to know.
“I still don’t deserve how much you’re giving me,” he murmured, burying his cock to the hilt.
Riley reached back and caught his hand.
“Then stop deciding what I’m allowed to give you.”
Graham laced his fingers through hers.
“Yes, ma’am.”
A breathless laugh escaped her, and Graham buried his face against her hair before returning to the slow, wet rhythm she had chosen.
He held her close, grounding his body against her back as his thick cock drove deep into her heat.
Riley reached back and caught Graham’s wrist.
“Stop.”
He went still behind her, keeping himself sheathed inside her. “What happened?”
“Your shoulder.” She glanced back at him. “You keep protecting it every time you move.”
“I can handle it.”
“You are a terrible liar.” Riley shifted away, letting his shaft slip out, and pointed toward the pillows. “Lie down.”
A smile threatened despite everything. “Bossy.”
“Graham.”
He obeyed.
The pillows gave beneath his shoulders as he settled onto his back, keeping pressure away from the bandage. Riley followed him across the mattress, and the expression on her face erased the joke before he could make another one.
She knew exactly what she wanted.
Let her lead.
Riley moved over him, bracing her hands carefully against his chest. She straddled his hips, aligning her dripping wet pussy over his jutting cock. Graham’s hands found her hips by instinct, but he kept the hold loose enough for her to dictate everything that followed.
“Tell me if you need to change position,” he said.
“I need you to stop worrying for thirty seconds.”
“That may be beyond me.”
“Then watch me.”
Graham did.
Months ago, he would have tried to take over. He would have convinced himself that loving her meant anticipating every decision, managing every risk, carrying every problem before Riley could touch it.
Now he stayed beneath her as she sank down, burying his rigid length completely inside her slick, tight channel as a wet gasp escaped her.
Riley set the rhythm herself, riding him with slow, deliberate rolls of her hips. Every downward push ground her swollen clit perfectly against his pelvis, her breath catching as his thick cock stretched her wide.
Each time Graham started to follow too forcefully, bucking his hips up to meet her, she put a hand against his chest and guided him back down. Not rejecting him. Directing him.
The distinction mattered.
“You really hate taking orders,” she said, panting as she rocked her wet pussy over his shaft.
“From everyone else.”
Her mouth curved. “Better answer.”
Graham slid one hand from her hip to her side, supporting without steering. The room had narrowed to Riley above him, flushed from exertion, loose hair falling around her face, nothing between them that either of them had not chosen.
He could have stayed there forever, watching her milk his cock with her tight, slick walls.
Riley’s pace changed, her hips moving faster, slapping wetly against him.