I gasp as the steel rod of his erection presses more firmly into the small of my back. I’m too drunk on everything to speak. Pleasure, anticipation, fear, desire . . . all surging, pulsing, building. This feeling is beyond anything I expected, anything I could have imagined before I knew what it felt like to be in Graham’s arms.
His mouth is on my neck, devouring my skin, his tongue sending waves of electricity coursing through my body as he picks up speed with his hand. The driving rhythm makes every nerve vibrate with a terrible, beautiful longing.
In all the times I’ve given myself pleasure, I’ve never felt anything like this. I’m crazy, wild, lost, but so close to being found.
So close, so close . . .
God, yes . . .
“Graham!” I buck against him, meeting his thrusts. Now he has two fingers inside me, stretching me, moving harder and faster, his thumb racing over my clit as I ride his hand. And suddenly, there it is, that deep, desperate pull between my legs, in my stomach, rising higher, tighter until it bursts.
I come so hard my vision blurs, and I have to bite my tongue to stop from screaming. Shudders rack my body, and pleasure washes over my skin, lapping sweet and vicious inside my bones until I know I will never be the same.
I press my bare lower body against Graham and my cheek against the cold mirror, ready for him to pull away, but he clearly has no intention of stopping. His fingers continue their nimble work, thrusting and rubbing. Before I’ve fully recovered from the first time—my first non-solo flight ever—I’ve re-boarded the roller coaster, swooping down and then up, up—
This time, I nearly stop breathing.
This time, I don’t just leave earth. I leave my body, soaring skyward as bliss pulses through me, changing me, transforming me. Teaching me things I’ve never known before. Dark, delicious secrets that can only be communicated when two people are skin to skin.
As I drift down through puffy, orgasm-colored clouds, Graham withdraws his hand from between my legs and gently but firmly guides my mouth to his. He kisses me deep, hard, but-oh-so sweet, sending heat spreading through my chest.
“You’re incredible,” he murmurs against my lips.
Am I? Really? I haven’t done anything for him.
At least, not yet . . .
Oh, but I want to. I want it almost as badly as I wanted the release he coaxed out of me like the master of pleasure he is.
I really did pick the best teacher in the entire history of the world.
I reach back, running my hand up the length of his hardness through his pants. But before I can do more than touch—before I can even come to terms with just how large he is down there—he bats my hand away.
“Not now,” he says, his voice tight, almost irritated.
I straighten my spine, embarrassed. “But I want . . . You’re supposed to, I mean . . . I mean, I’m supposed to . . .” I stop, my face burning as I ease my skirt over my hips.
Graham, however? He just leans back against the wall, smoothing his shirt calmly as he shrugs. “Don’t worry about ‘supposed to’ right now, okay? I’m the teacher, remember?”
I swallow. “I-I know. And that was wonderful.” Life-altering is more like it. I still can’t feel my feet. “But I want to learn how to drive men wild.”
And how to drive you wild in particular . . .
“Mission accomplished, gorgeous. But this is as far as we go tonight.”
Before I can respond, he leans down, kissing me like I’m the heroine of a classic movie. He kisses me like they used to kiss when films were black and white and passion had to fill in for all the other colors. He kisses me like I’ve always dreamed of being kissed—like I’m the one, the girl, the long-lost lover-friend my man has been looking for—before whispering, “Until next time, Butterfly,” and slipping out the door.
“Graham?” I squeak, but he doesn’t come back. He’s gone.
Lesson one is over.
Still shell-shocked, I blink faster, looking around our small, private lounge, my hand flying to cover my mouth when I spot the enormous floor-to-ceiling window on the far wall. The one with a view high above the streets of Manhattan and the lights blazing in the windows of the building on the other side of the street. Which means—
Someone could have seen.
Well, duh, that’s the point of a public quickie.
I drag in a deep breath, wondering what the heck I’ve gotten myself into. Lesson one was insanely good, yes. Better than I’d even hoped. Almost too good.