Graham grins down at me. “Good girl,” he says, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss is relief and desperation and ecstasy, and then he’s slowly pumping his cock out and back in.
And fuck, if I thought his fingers felt good inside of me, his cock is something else. I cling to him as his thrusts pick up speed, moaning in time with them.
“You’re doing so perfect, Delilah,” Graham murmurs into my neck. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”
I whimper in response, my hips meeting his thrusts, desperate for everything he’s capable of giving me. God, it’s so good. So much better than I ever thought it would be. Is it just sex, or is it Graham? I don’t know—all I know is that I don’t want it to end.
I cling to him as he thrusts deeper and faster, and I gasp at the overwhelming sensation, my nails digging into the flesh of his upper back. Graham stills momentarily, and I whine in protest. “Am I hurting you?” he asks desperately, concern suddenly lining every inch of his face.
I’m shaking my head before he’s even done with his sentence. “No, don’t stop,” I beg.
He presses a kiss to my temple and keeps going. Our breaths intermingle as he picks up speed again, my soft moans mixing with his. At some point, he snakes a hand between us, finding my clit and rubbing soft circles with the pad of his finger, and I nearly combust.
“Graham!” I squeak, and he doesn’t change what he’s doing by even a fraction.
“That’s it,” he praises. “Come undone for me.”
“Graham, Graham, Graham,” I whimper, and then I do exactly what he asked of me. Stars dance before my eyes, and I cling to him through the shaking of my limbs as my climax hits me.
Graham captures my mouth in his, kissing me deeply as he continues thrusting, tumbling over the edge only seconds later. And we lay there together, entangled, coming down from the high, our panting the only sound in the room.
After a few moments, Graham sits up, sliding out from within me, and the moment I look down, a slight gasp leaves my lips. I instinctively move to hide the small amount of blood on my inner thighs, but Graham clocks it immediately, calmly saying, “Don’t move,” and leaving the room.
Seconds later, he’s back with a wet washcloth from the bathroom, and he sits on the edge of the bed and gently pries my legs apart. The washcloth is warm as he moves it gently along my inner thighs and along my center.
And, strangely, it seems almost more intimate than what we’ve just done. More intimate than being inside of me.
“Does anything hurt?” Graham asks.
I shake my head. Surprisingly, no. And I know blood is pretty normal for one’s first time, I guess it just surprised me.And maybe I thought it would gross Graham out. But he seems less phased than me.
Graham’s eyes meet mine, and he gently tosses the washcloth to the floor. “Use your words, Trouble,” he says with a soft smile, climbing back onto the bed to lie beside me, pulling my comforter over top of us. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”
I know what he’s asking, but I’ve barely had time to process it myself. “Good,” I settle on, and I’m pretty sure it’s true. I search for the shame inside of me, the shame I suspected would rear its ugly head, but surprisingly, I find it … quiet.
Graham nods. “Good,” he repeats, although he seems a bit hesitant. And suddenly my mind is less focused on how I feel and hyper focused on how he might feel. Was it good for him? Was itbad? Does he regret this?
“Delilah,” Graham’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Talk to me.”
My gaze meets his concerned one, and I blurt out, “Was it good for you?”
He blinks, once, twice. Then he breaks out in a confused grin. “Asking a man if he enjoyed sex is kind of a silly question, Trouble.”
“But—I have no idea if I did good, if it lived up to what you normally experience, I—”
“Woah,” Graham interrupts me, sitting up partially and taking my face in his hands to stop the rambling. “Is that what you’re stressed about?”
I bite my lip, unable to look away from him.
“Dee, what we just did, that was—that wasreallygood for me. I …” He shakes his head. “But more importantly, this experience was aboutyou. So, I’m gonna turn this question around.” He smirks slightly. “Was it good for you?”
I can feel my face heating in that familiar way. Although this time it’s not from embarrassment, not really. More so from thememories of what we just did, and … “Yeah,” I answer with a soft smile. “It wasgood.” It’s not a very profound thing to say about an experience that feels very much profound, but nonetheless, it’s what comes out of me.
Relief and contentment washes over Graham’s face. “Good,” he repeats. “Good. Come here.” He snuggles me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me, and together, we simply lie there, breathing each other in, letting the moment sink in around us.
And in the warmth of Graham’s embrace, I feel something strange. Or more accurately, a lack thereof.
I guess I always assumed I’d feel different. Some monumental shift in being. Altered irrevocably. But as I lie here, searching within myself, I’m shocked to find … nothing. Just the same presence I always feel. Me. Delilah. Whole. Just like a was an hour ago, a year ago, twenty years ago.
