Page 80 of Taste of Addiction

“Did you bring enough stuff to keep you busy before class?”

“Yeah. I’m going to journal and try to resurrect my failed article from the grave. Oh, and read more from the book Dr. Saber gave me.”

Graham’s brow furrows. “You’re not going to keep pursuing Tanner, right?”

“I have no time to do that even if I wanted to. I am just going to use what I have and try to get the victims to email me again.” Even though Dr. Williams is pretty pissed off at me, I need to have something if only to satisfy my ego.

“I wish you would just drop this whole thing altogether, but I’m also trying to respect your need to pursue your own career.”

“I appreciate you trying.” I smile brightly. “I know it’s very difficult for you to be dating such a strong-willed feminist.”

“Worst feminist ever,” he says, swooping in to capture my lips. “You need me in your life—like the ocean needs the shore.”

“Or candy needs my mouth,” I counter with a giggle.

“Or your pussy needs my cock.”

My hands run down his chest and settle on his leather belt. He looks mighty fine in his power suit. “That is not false,” I concede.

“And you love it when I boss you around.”

“Only in the bedroom though.”

“Hmm, okay. Want to test this out and see who is telling lies?”

I swallow hard and then nod. “Yes, sir.”

16

“Stand up.”

I place my empty takeout container on the end table next to my hot chocolate and then get up. My hands twist in front of me as I listen to my next directive.

“Strip down to just your bra and panties.”

“Graham—”

“Quit thinking.”

I frown. That is pretty much impossible for me.

“Do it.”

I glance back at the door, knowing that it’s not locked. My heart rate increases as I start pulling my sweater over my head and removing my pants. “What if—”

“Your mouth needs to be gagged.” Graham starts undoing his pants and sliding them and his boxers down to the floor. He kicks them off, and my mouth dries at the thought of someone walking in on us or hearing. It is a thrill I have come to enjoy. The heady feeling of knowing we could be caught mid-act.

When I am wearing just my gray lace and satin bra set with pink trim, Graham sighs and mutters some expletives of approval under his breath that my ears do not quite catch.

“Turn around, spread those legs, and bend to touch your ankles.”

I hesitate but only for a second to repeat his words back in my own head. When my fingers curl around the girth of my ankles, he lets me know with a moan that I must be doing well with his orders.

“All these lies you tell yourself about not wanting to be bossed around,” he starts, “but here you are, my little kitten, dripping from your core with cream that’s meant just for me. I can smell your juices from here.”

I shift my weight from foot to foot to maintain my balance. I hear a sound behind me of what I assume is Graham standing up. A hand cups my mound and squeezes, making me struggle to stay in position from the sudden pleasure surge. He helps me to stand back up, turns me to face him, and then kisses me sloppily on the lips. It is raw. Primal. Our tongues invade each other’s space, and his hands grab at my neck to pull me closer, like he can’t get his fill of me. Like we are each other’s source of oxygen.

Graham pulls away, but just for a moment and then is back on me, his hands grabbing my ass and squeezing so hard that I scream out in unexpected pleasure. “Dance for me,” he directs.

---