Page 100 of Taste of Addiction

“I wish I knew what you’re thinking,” he says, quirking a brow.

“Just thinking that you need a sandwich.”

“A sandwich?”

“Yup. You look so hungry. Want me to call room service?”

“No, Angela.”

He takes a step closer and I reciprocate. Another step. And another. When we are pressed up against one another, I help him unbutton his white shirt, pulling the ends out from the waistband of his pants. He spreads his legs and I move in closer, my breath picking up from the anticipation. I fall to my knees, but Graham grabs me before I can hit the floor. I look up at him in confusion.

“I appreciate the sentiment. But tonight is about you. And your needs.”

“What happens if my need is to get you off in my mouth? To taste you sliding down my throat…”

“My need to claim your pussy is greater. I promise not to disappoint. Are you going to deny me?”

I shake my head. I can’t refuse him now. I doubt I can refuse him ever. He has managed to take my heart hostage so that the beating of it coincides with the rhythm of his own.

“Good.”

Graham stands, removes the rest of his clothes, then starts untying my robe. It slides to the floor, and his audible gasp of approval is music to my ears. I am thrilled he likes what he sees. He always makes me feel like I am the most beautiful girl in the world.

He helps me back up on the bed and props one of my legs up on his shoulder. I am wide open for him. His fingers slip inside me first and stretch my opening with my own juices. I moan as he shocks my body with the sudden pleasure. He knows exactly what to do to get me on fire.

Next, Graham’s mouth descends and licks me from my pussy to my clit. And then repeats that move—a dozen more times.

“Graham!”

“Do not come.”

“What?” I burst out. What kind of nonsense is he speaking of?

“If you come, you will be punished.”

“What the hell?”

I can feel his lips curve from down below into a smile. Oh, the nerve of him!

After several minutes of the slow buildup toward an orgasm, Graham stops abruptly and works his way up to my breasts. His cock settles between my legs, and I thrust upward to grind against him. I need friction, and the loss from his fingers and tongue places me in the desperate category.

“Patience,” he warns.

“Any other day, you want things hard and fast. But today? Nope. You want to make me go crazy.”

He sucks a nipple into his mouth and ignores my whining. I can tell he is having fun and doing things his way. Shocker.

Something hard presses against my entrance, and the vibrating pulses make me jerk up from the bed at the sudden intrusion and my own sensitivity.

“Fuck!” I yell, trying to get away from the pulsing toy. “What is that?” I try to sit up and look at the device he is using on me, but he just holds me down. “I”—gasp—“I”—gasp—“won’t be able to—”

Off.

He shuts the damn thing off!

“That was fun,” he mutters calmly, obviously proud of himself.

“Graham,” I snarl in anger.

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