Now she would never forget this night as long as she lived.
Now no man would ever compare.
No man would ever hold a candle to him.
Oh, God, she was so screwed.
“I…you didn’t need to do that. But thank you, Graves.”
He set aside the stems and then he started toward her. His walk burst with male purpose, and her heart thumped like a mad thing as she watched. Dadump dadump dadump.
“It’s nothing compared to what you’re giving me.”
His tender words electrified her. Magnetized her. She’d never wanted anything so much, had never been truly willing to die for something.
Her voice barely made it past her constricted throat. “Graves…please touch me.”
“Come here, princess.” He scooped her into his strong, capable arms then easily carried her across the room, toward the bed. She felt him bury his nose in her hair and inhale her, and a wanton shudder racked through her overheated body at the gesture.
When he lowered her at the foot of the bed and purposely let her slide down his deliciously ripped body, Chloe’s eyes widened. His cock stretched out so long and huge against her abdomen, she moaned instinctively and pressed her body into his, undulating suggestively up on her tiptoes.
The way she caught him staring down at her knocked off her breathing pattern.
Graves had never looked at her with such unabashed lust. His flaming eyes promised her that he had every intention of taking her in all the ways a man could take a woman tonight. Liquid heat rushed into her panties. The pain in her breasts intensified, and she licked her anxious lips. “Graves.”
He slid his hands all over her curves as if memorizing her shape while those golden eyes trekked across her face—her nose, her cheeks, her eyes—then he lifted his hand and touched the pad of his thumb to her lower lip as though he wanted to taste her there. With one slow, sinuous swipe, that thumb caressed across her lips, and she bit back a moan as her tongue snaked out to wantonly lick him. “Graves.”
His eyes were fire on her face, his voice a terse rasp. “I want you so much, Chlo.” His features hardened with desire as he inserted his thumb into the depths of her parted mouth.
She latched onto the offering and suckled with all her thirst and hunger. His taste was salty, his eyes almost animal wild as she twirled her tongue around him, pretending his finger was his tongue or his cock. Arousal made her tremble. A wash of cream coated her pussy at the thought of going down on him. She was so wet now she was afraid she would leak.
Graves retrieved his thumb and dragged it wetly down her curves, then his fingers splayed on her buttocks and flattened her up against his hard length, molding her against him. “I want to lick”—he bent to lick her bare shoulder—“and suck”—he gave a hot, hungry suck at her neck—“and fuck you until you scream.”
“Please do it fast, do it now.”
His unapologetic stare glazed with desire as he undid the zipper on the side of her bandage dress with a look that promised her untold ecstasy.
She let him. Had dressed today only with the sole thought, the sole reason, of him undressing her. Her skin pebbled when she stepped out of her dress in her new Agent Provocateur underwear, the thong panties transparent through the lace and almost nonexistent. Her bra was tiny as well, merely covering her nipples with a black lace flower.
The lustful spark in his eyes and the tightening of his face thrilled her as he reached behind her to unhook her delicately laced black bra. Her breasts bounced free, and she ached to hear him say something, but he was without words, looking at her in an almost raw, primal way.
Wobbly on her feet in only her Jimmy Choos and her teeny tiny panties, she nervously extended out her wrists, her voice cottony. “Put your handcuffs on me.”
He stilled for a moment, as though caught off guard by the offer. He shook his head and surveyed her breasts like he planned to devour them. “No, Chlo.”
He cupped one full globe and circled it with his thumb, his eyes glimmering like a tiger’s as the peak pebbled for him.
Unexpectedly he pinched the tip and a shot of pleasure arrowed straight to her core, tearing out a gasp, her pussy rippling. She pushed her wrists out again, her knees liquefying with his manual stimulation. “Put them on me. I’m afraid my hands will get the best of me. You’re so beautiful and I want to touch you so much. Please, Graves.”
They stared at each other. His breathing was deep and slow, hers fast and nervous. She wanted to please him so badly and she ached for him to enjoy this night as much as she knew that she would.
But Graves shook his head once more, his temples working as he clenched his jaw hard. He curled his fingers around her hip and squeezed. “It’s your first time, Chlo. I’m trying very fucking hard for sweet and easy here.”
“No, I don’t need sweet or easy. Put them on me. Please!” Need consumed her, like a powerful cyclone sweeping her off her feet.
She could make out his straining muscles under his shirt and her breasts throbbed for him. She needed him to fuck her and fuck her now, any way he’d like to.
But Graves clamped his lips in disapproval and seized her hands in each of his warm ones and placed them on his shoulders, where he softly said, his gaze blazing into her, “You can hold onto me but don’t rub me, please.”