There’s suddenly not enough air in the room, not enough space between us—but also entirely too much.
“You like this, Trouble?” Graham asks quietly.
I simply nod.
“Use your words,” he prompts.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Well, we’ve found something we can add to your book,” he says, and then he dips his head and kisses me. My head angles up to meet his, and my back arches from the door. Graham’shold on my wrists tightens in response, and I whimper into his mouth.
“Oh, youdolike that,” he breathes against my lips before sliding his tongue against mine.
And I am utterly and completelygone. Devoured, consumed. So caught up in this moment, I can’t fathom another one coming after it. That is, until Graham’s hands leave my wrists to scoop me up underneath my thighs and carry me across the room. I yelp in surprise, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
“Can I take you to your bedroom, Trouble?” Graham breaks our kiss to ask.
“Yes,” I say, capturing his lips again with mine.
We stumble into my bedroom, and Graham lays me down on my bed, pressing his body against mine. “You can stop me at any point,” he murmurs against my ear, then trails kisses down my neck. His hands roam over me, and I find myself arching into his touch, desperate for more. The skirt of my sundress is bunched around my waist as my legs wrap around him, and Graham’s hands explore the flesh of my thighs, squeezing gently. He moves down my body, and I sit up on my elbows just in time to lock eyes with him as he spreads my legs and presses a kiss to my inner thigh.
My jaw hinges open on a sigh, and Graham grins against my skin, kissing me again.
I whimper softly, both at the feeling and at the sight.
“How would your character like being eaten out?” Graham asks.
The question doesn’t quite register with me, and I cock my head. “What?”
Graham chuckles. “Delilah, I’m about to go down on you—you okay with that?”
Heat coils in my belly, and despite the insecurity, the fears, the unknowing about this whole situation, I find myself nodding.
“Words, sweetheart,” Graham reminds me.
I swallow. “Yes.”
“Good girl,” he says, and it has the heat coiling tighter. He leans down to press open-mouthed kisses to the inside of my thigh, moving up, up, up—then switching to the other thigh. I watch him from where I lie, perched on my elbows, almost in a trance. What he’s doing had never once occurred to me, and yet it’s like setting my veins on fire and watching them burn—in the most delicious way possible.
Graham gently reaches under my dress, finding the sides of my panties. “Lift your hips, Trouble,” he tells me, and I do as he says.
He gently slides my panties down my legs, moving out of the way so he can remove them fully and fling them to the floor. And then he repositions himself and spreads my legs once more.
I feel myself blushing hard, knowing that the most intimate part of me is on full display for Graham to see, and suddenly I’m flooded with insecurities, fear, apprehension. I have half a mind to snap my legs shut and call this whole thing off, but then Graham mutters in a low, soft voice, “Fuck.”
His gaze darkens, and he releases a shaky breath. His fingers gently dance up my inner thigh, and I gasp.
“You’re so wet, Trouble,” he murmurs, never taking his eyes from the center of me.
“That’s good, right?” I whisper, torn between humiliation and utter bliss.
“Baby, it’s perfect,” he mutters, and then he lowers himself and slides his tongue along my center.
A whimper of shocked pleasure escapes me, and my eyes roll back.
He does it again. And again. And on the third time, his tongue finds my clit and swirls—andfuck, if I thought being kissed by Graham was good, this is heaven.
“Graham,” I whimper, my head falling back.
