Page 32 of Until I Found You
“Yes, something’s wrong. It’s wrong how bad I want you, how bad I fucking need you right now,” I say, running the palm of my hand over his chest.
His skin breaks out in goose bumps, as my finger traces his abs down to the edge of his boxer briefs. Wrapping my hand into the front of his jeans, I pull him closer to me.
He doesn’t expect it, and I love how bold I feel. How it takes him by surprise, but I note the glimmer in his eyed telling me how much he loves it.
“What’s more wrong is what I’m willing to do to make you put me out of my misery.”
He lets go of the door, causing it to slam shut behind me, and just like that his hands are on me.
Wrapping his hands in my hair, he pulls my head back giving him access to my neck. He runs his nose along the column of my neck, whispering how good I smell and how much he wants to taste me.
He licks and nips his way up my neck and over to my ear.
“You need me to touch you, Halle?” he asks.
I’m so close to begging him that I’m half tempted to climb up his body and wrap my legs around him, just to feel some friction relief.
Pressing my back against the door, I run my hands over his chest again down to where his dick is straining against the front of his pants.
Wrapping my palm around him, he lets out a string of expletives before he grabs my arm and holds it above my head.
“Don’t move,” he says, holding my stare. “Cause I need you just as much as you need me.”
I know Graham would never do anything to hurt me. That thought would never even enter my mind.
“This is about you,” he sighs, running his hands down my arms over my chest. He squeezes my breast over the material of my dress. I can feel my nipples straining against the lace of my bra, begging for him to touch them.
“Where is the zipper?” he asks, as I turn my body to an angle showing him where the zipper is underneath my arm. He slides it down, careful not to ruin the material but urgent enough to not waste any time.
As soon as he sees the lace material of my bra, he whispers “fuck” to himself again before glancing up to look me in the eyes. He knows I wore this for a reason. Even if I told myself I wasn’t going to give into him, there was always the chance that I would.
I knew how much he loved seeing me in lace and I loved seeing the look on his face when he did.
Letting the dress fall to the floor, I watch as Graham’s six-four frame kneels in front of me. Kissing a path over my stomach, down to the apex of my thigh and back up to the lace material of my panties.
His nose grazes a path over the top of my mound and the slightest bit of contact is enough to make my legs feel like jelly beneath me.
The level of care he showed a moment ago is gone now, as he reaches out and rips the material away from my body. My jaw drops, as my panties fall to the floor along with my dress, before my eyes find Graham’s once again. I can’t be mad when I see the look of hunger and desire written on his face.
He is waiting for me to say something, to reprimand him for ruining my underwear. When he realizes it isn’t going to come, he smiles as he moans and whispers, “Good girl.”
Running his callused hand up my legs and over my thigh, he picks up my left leg and begins tracing kisses from my knee up the inside of my leg. Just before he reaches my pussy, he begins the descent back down my thigh again.
He does that several times before I feel like I am about to come out of my skin, but not once do I move my arms back down. Nope. I want to continue to obey his commands, to be his good girl, not wanting to find out what will happen if I don’t.
I want him to put me out of my misery. To put out this fire he’s started in me, that only he will ever be able to put out.
When he gets close to my pussy again, my pelvis begins seeking him out. Wrapping his hands around to my ass, he holds me close to him as he feathers a breath over my heated skin.
His cool breath on my wet skin leaves me whimpering, as I squeeze my eyes closed and tilt my head back against the door.
With one swipe of his tongue, I can see stars dance in front of me, as I start chanting his name praising him for how good he makes me feel. One of his fingers enter me, just barely, as his tongue continues to flick over my clit. Slowly, expertly.
One minute his finger will be there and the next it’s gone. He knows what he is doing. Giving me just enough of what I want before taking it away. It is maddening but feels incredible all at the same time.
My orgasm starts to build from the moment his tongue touches me, but it is his finger slowly entering me and disappearing that keeps me on the brink. It’s as if I’ve been left hanging on the edge of the cliff, waiting to fall.
I keep chanting his name and begging him “please” when his finger slowly enters me again, curling just enough. Just like that, I feel my body catapult over the edge leaving stars flashing before me as the aftershocks of my release jolt through me.
It is a good thing he has a hold of me, or I would’ve fallen over, left in a puddle on the floor of his hotel room.
Moving to stand, I can see his cock aching to break free from the confines of his jeans. I reach out for him, but he stops me. Grabbing my hand, kissing it as he lifts me up in his arms. My body relaxes into him, wrapping around his neck.
I mumble a soft “thank you” as he lowers me onto the bed, feeling the soft cotton of the bed sheets.
He bends down and presses a kiss against the edge of my mouth before whispering, “no, thank you,” as my lids fall heavy, closing over my eyes.
