She stirred all of a sudden. “Graves.” Her husky murmur whispered across the shadows, and she reached out groggily in his direction. “I miss you.”
He didn’t hesitate and promptly went to her, sliding under the covers to find they were warmed by her body heat. Her long, smooth legs grazed his, and his cock jolted upward once again, and this was exactly why he’d gone to that chair. It was too stimulating…the contact of their skins. He wasn’t used to it. To snuggling. To sleeping with a woman. To be touching without fucking. Now he couldn’t get his cock to get down, couldn’t stop feeling like a teenager.
She snuggled back against him when he gingerly wrapped his arm around her waist, and her butt came up against his straining dick. He groaned.
“Chloe.” He wanted it bad. He wasn’t used to physical contact unless it was for mating purposes, and now he was primed and pained for her. Damn, he should let her rest, he really should. But he found himself gently nudging his erection against her luscious butt cheeks so that she would feel how ready he was. “Chlo?” He nibbled her earlobe and caressed her breast, and found the nipple peaked and straining between his fingers.
“Chlo, can I fuck you?” he murmured.
She grasped the hand he’d been using to caress her breast and dragged it downward until he held her luscious little cunt within his palm. His eyes almost rolled to the back of his head as her damp heat dripped all over his probing fingers.
“Sweet Jesus, you’re soaked.”
Her voice was raspy with sleep. “I was embarrassed to tell you and was waiting for you to come back to bed on your own.”
“Christ, I was trying to be considerate with you. I was about to go stick my cock in the fridge to cool the motherfucker.”
“No, Graves, give it to me. I want it. I want you.” She shuddered when he thumbed her clit while his erection stole between her butt cheeks and teased her pussy with a nudge from the tip. “Oh, please,” she cried.
“Shh, it’s coming, princess.” He rolled on a condom then held her pinned on her side and pushed inside her, growling in her ear, “Like that?”
Her breath caught as he entered, her sheath so snug he groaned, and she moaned and arched her head back. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He thrust harder.
“Oh, yeah.”
He bent his head and licked the tender spot between her collarbone and her neck, cleaving deeper into her. Harder. He started up a rhythm. Pounding into her, smelling her, feeling her, fucking her…she started moaning, gasping please, yes, please, Graves, and he caressed her clit with his thumb and then pinched the flesh between two fingers and upped the tempo. He bit into her neck and shoulder, licking her, growling as the pleasure consumed them once more.
They seemed to fall asleep, but in the morning Graves woke up to find Chloe delineating each and every muscle on his back. His throat thickened at the exquisite touch, like she thought she would break him if she touched him a little bit harder.
He tried to keep his eyes shut but it was torture. He wanted her to stop, but he wanted her to go on. He’d never opened the door to this, had thought it was a weakness, a stupid need for a “hug” or a “touch” was overrated and stupid. Now Chloe touched him while she thought he was asleep, and he wanted to die and he wanted to live and he wanted to bury himself inside her again.
He cracked an eye open and saw her bite her lower lip, and he wanted to eat it. Taste it. He remembered all those tacky kisses that had left him tasting of stale alcohol and tobacco and everything dirty. He’d never tried to kiss anyone again. But he was obsessed with Chloe’s mouth. With that kiss she’d pushed him to give.
He couldn’t stop touching her lips, looking at her mouth, wondering if he’d imagined it tasted so good, afraid to taste more of her and becoming addicted. If he kissed her again, he’d be screwed, and he was already so deep in over his head he felt like he was drowning.
Chloe’s heart picked up speed when Graves’s eyes fluttered open…and her hands froze on his abdomen. He watched her with heavy eyelids for a long, breath-clogging moment. Then his breathing changed, and lines of determination tightened his face. He was going to kiss her. Suddenly the awareness that he was thinking about it made her breath become fast and choppy, her eyes blur with anticipation.
He rolled gradually to his side, and the move forced Chloe to somehow lie back down. His eyes felt like a hot brand on her mouth as he lowered his dark head. She held her breath. He set his lips so lightly over hers, it felt like a whisper. She almost thought he would pull back soon. But he didn’t.
Her heart thumped harder as the plushness of his mouth molded to hers, and she opened ever so softly, trying not to move or scare him off, letting him find his way by himself.
He made a ravaged groaning sound and settled his body against hers. He turned his head and gingerly flicked out to taste her. The kiss was light and explorative, and it sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. She fisted the sheets at her sides, so eroticized she could have had an orgasm while Graves kissed her like this, almost like he was discovering kissing for the first time.
He cupped her face and turned again, but this time he covered her mouth hungrily and plowed his tongue so deep she felt his thrust in her womb. Her veins sang with his kiss, and a tremor of ecstasy ripped through her as his bold, damp taste invaded her.
His hands convulsed and he shuddered, groaned, and pressed his erection meaningfully against her. His tongue meant business now, taking no prisoners. He kissed her so hard she helplessly opened her mouth and let him devour her, twirling her tongue around his while her pussy drenched between her legs.
She’d never been kissed like this, with such hunger, such reverence, teasing her vagina into clenching at each damp, hot flick of his strong tongue. His mouth didn’t become softer as he kissed her, but harder, wilder, more ravenous—exhilarating her.
She shivered, felt like he had at last opened himself to her. Awash in awe, she slid her hands up the bulging muscles of his biceps and around his shoulders, her swollen, deliciously kissed lips moving against his when she spoke. “Can I touch you, Graves?” Ravenous, he continued nibbling at her lips and suckled her tongue and squeezed his own tongue around hers. “Graves, can I please touch you?”
He slid an arm around her waist and pressed his fingers into the small of her back, then he squeezed her against his body and groaned, “Touch my face.”
She stroked his jaw with her fingertips and he tensed and slammed his eyes shut as though he were in nerve-racking, toe-curling, bone-churning ecstasy.
Chloe wanted to explode in a million pieces and never be the same again. She felt so very weak with this one concession. It was insane the way she wanted him and she couldn’t stop. Instead she wanted him more with every second she felt him, smelled him, spent here, with him.