I sigh, tilting my head back, my mouth parting. Fuck, I had no idea being kissed on your neck felt likethis. It has no business feeling this good. Like electricity skipping across your skin, mingling with the heat inside and setting everything on fire.
Graham presses kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, to the V of my sundress. He pauses, looking up at me, his blue eyes catching mine. “Can I touch you here?” he breathes, his hand splayed out across my ribcage, right below my breast.
I simply nod, and, eyes still on mine, Graham slowly slides his hand up over my breast, finding my raised nipple through the fabric and softly running his thumb over it. My breasts are small, small enough to get away with not wearing a bra—especially in a dress like this.
I bite my lip as a whimper slips free.
“You like that?” he breathes.
“Yes,” I whisper, my back arching slightly.
He presses his thumb a bit harder, rubbing a bit faster. With his free hand, he grabs the nape of my neck, pulling me back into a kiss, and then his hand goes to my other breast, massaging gently.
I grip his shoulders, whimpering softly into the kiss, and suddenly, I’m grinding my hips against his. I didn’t really think to do it—I justam. But Graham seems to approve, moaning softly into my mouth. I feel him sliding down the spaghetti straps of my dress, then tugging gently, and suddenly my nipples are pebbling against the cool air of the room.
He breaks our kiss, and I don’t even have a moment to feel self-conscious in front of him before he’s leaned forward to slide his tongue over my bare nipple.
“Ohgod.” My eyes flutter closed, my head leaning back. I don’t know what he’s doing now—sucking, nibbling, licking—but holy fuck does it feel good.
I dig my fingers into his shoulders as pleasure courses through me. Raw and bright and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Sure, I’ve played with my tits before. But having someone else do it? Who knew it was so much better?
Graham moves to the other breast while I grind shamelessly against him. My mind is a foggy mess, thick with pleasure and this moment. But through it all, I can feel the evidence of Graham’s arousal through his jeans, so close to me, thick and hard. And suddenly it hits me that here I am, with aman, half naked on his lap, about to …
“It’s big.”His words flit through my mind—probably something that would excite most women but only kind of terrifies me. Because what if this was a bad idea? What if it hurts? Like, a lot? And what if I do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, mess this up somehow?
But is it too late? Have we taken this too far?
And then there’s the shame again—spiraling up inside of me like a tornado. Shame for backing out. For doing this at all. For enjoying this, for asking for this, for stopping this.
“Dee?”
I suck in a gasp of air, only to realize this isn’t the first one I’ve taken.
“Delilah.” Graham’s hands are on either side of my face, forcing me to look down at him. “Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on in there?” He smiles softly, tapping the side of my head gently, although his eyes are rimmed with concern.
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’m dangerously close to doing both. “I’m …” I swallow. “Scared.”
Graham simply nods, and then he’s gently pulling the top of my dress back up, repositioning my spaghetti straps.
“What are you …?” I start.
“We don’t have to do this today,” he says simply.
Panic surges through me, then disappointment, and then frustration. In myself. “No. Please. I promise I’m fine. It was just a moment, just—”
Graham takes my hand in his, squeezing. “I’m not saying never, Delilah. Just not tonight.”
And suddenly the panic is gone. Replaced by … relief.
“Come here,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him.
I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, breathing in pine and wood and peppermint. “How did you know?” I ask quietly.
He chuckles, warm and deep. “You think I can’t tell when a woman isn’t enjoying herself?”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur into his neck.
“Why?”
