Delilah’s moans are pitching higher, louder. And while I’ve only seen her come a handful of times, I knowthisis what she sounds like right before tipping off the edge.
I steady my pace, thrusting harder, kissing down her neck, finding her wrists with my hands and pinning them down—pinning all of her down, bending her body to my will.
“That’s it, baby, come for me,” I demand. And seconds later, she does. She cries out something unintelligible and loud, and her pussy clenches around my cock and has me toppling over the edge right after her. I groan, squeezing her hands under mine and kissing up her neck as my climax rushes through me, working her through the aftershocks.
And when we’ve come down from our high, I whisper in her ear, “I hope you don’t have plans tomorrow; because you’re not going anywhere tonight.”
Chapter seventeen
Delilah
I wake to the smell of pine and peppermint. The soft light of morning shining through unfamiliar windows. And in a bed that isn’t mine. I start to sit up, confusion clouding my foggy mind, when a strong arm wraps around me from behind and pulls me back against them.
And then everything comes rushing back. I smile sleepily, letting Graham snuggle me close.
“Morning, Trouble,” he mumbles in my ear.
I giggle as he squeezes me against him, and then his hands go exploring. “I’m barely awake,” I murmur, arching my back involuntarily as his fingers graze my nipple.
“Half-asleep orgasms are the best kind,” he counters, his other hand traveling lower, under the waistband of my panties.
And I assume teacher knows best, so I give in.
Half an hour later, both of us spent, we hop in the shower. And while Graham is sure to touch me anywhere and everywhere, it’s more tender than erotic. And soon I’m in oneof Graham’s t-shirts, oversized and reaching my knees, sitting at the kitchen counter while he makes me breakfast. It’s Saturday, so neither of us have work, and since it’s still early, it’s safe to assume Harrison won’t be back from Caitlin’s anytime soon.
“You like your eggs scrambled?” Graham asks over his shoulder.
“Sure,” I say.
“Good, ‘cause that’s the only way I know how to make ‘em.”
I smile down into the mug of coffee that I’m holding. I’ve been practically smiling ear to ear all morning. We should probably talk. About what happened last night. This morning. What we want to happen next …
But something in me doesn’t want to break this perfect moment.
“You said the book’s coming along well?” Graham says.
I straighten in my seat, nodding, even though his back is turned to me. “Yeah, I’m really speeding through it. It’s coming a lot more naturally now.”
At this, Graham shoots me a wicked grin over his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”
I roll my eyes. “Iwrote it.”
“I’m just a muse, I know.” He feigns a dramatized expression of humility and goes back to cooking.
I giggle. I take a sip of coffee. “I’m to the whole ‘declaration of love’ part,” I go on. “Trying to figure out how to word it. What to say. The outline wants it to be the male main character, but that’s about all the instruction I have.”
Graham turns off the stove, reaching into the cabinet for plates. “He could say something along the lines of how he thinks about her all the time. How she takes up all his brain space.” He chuckles, not looking at me. “That she’s home and adventure all bundled into one.”
I wag my head. “A little cliché, don’t you think?”
Graham shrugs, plating the eggs. “Sometimes things are cliché because they’re just true.” He spins around, setting a plate in front of me. His gaze meets mine, then darts away.
“Have you ever been in love?” The question leaves my lips before I have the time to decide whether it’s smart to ask it.
Graham’s gaze is back on mine. Serious, surprised, but also vulnerable. He cocks his head to the side, thinking. Really thinking. “Maybe,” he finally settles on. And it feels heavy. Heavier than it should.
“Maybe?” I echo. “How could you not be sure?”
