“Should stay on. Because I’m sexist enough to admit I’ve got this amazing fantasy about you, with these legs of yours, and some sexy heels, and nothing else. Gorgeous,” he muttered as he rested her on the couch lengthwise. “You’re just too damn gorgeous.”
She felt more than gorgeous as he worshipped her with his mouth. She felt powerful. She’d taken her future into her own hands, no longer a victim of circumstance. No longer powerless. Formidable.
He covered her, his erection pressing into her thigh. Because it pleased her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and let the heels dig, just a little, into his backside.
Graham growled and covered her breast with his mouth, sucking hard on the tip while his hand massaged the other breast. His cock prodded and ran down her slit, seeking entrance without guidance. She reached down to help, but he shook his head.
“No, wait.”
A small part of her wanted to argue back. Assert the dominance she’d so newly discovered. Be the force. But the other, wiser part of her whispered, It’s okay . . . because he’s going to make it good. So good. So very, very good . . .
Not weak to give in to pleasure. Just smart.
So she let the torment continue. The thick, fat head of his penis glided through her folds, almost without purpose as he licked and sucked and nipped at her breasts. The occasional, infrequent contact with her clit left her guessing, then experiencing zingers when she least expected it.
When she didn’t think she could last any longer—couldn’t take the madness another second—he arched his hips up and drove into her.
Her eyelids burst with a cacophony of color. Arching into him, pushing hard with the heels of her feet, she urged him into a fast pace to keep up with her growing climax. It was a snowball rolling down the mountain, too long ignored, and was immediately upon her.
A few more thrusts and she burst, screaming his name and loving the harsh way her own name fell from his lips before he collapsed with her. As spent, as exhausted, as completely used as she.
Power. It was a beautiful thing to take back one’s own power.
*
“WHAT made you decide to come over?” Graham combed through Kara’s hair with his fingers, watching as the silky red and gold strands flowed between them like water.
She’d jumped back in the shower with him after their romp on the couch. He’d been sticky with sweat, and after he’d just gotten clean, he’d needed to start over. She’d volunteered to join him. He wasn’t about to argue.
Now she lay with him, naked but for the sheet that covered her in the cool bedroom. Her makeup was long gone, but her hair was dry, thanks to piling it on top of her head in the steamy shower. It fanned across her pillow—and he thought of it as hers, officially, now—to create a beautiful auburn backdrop to the woman he loved.
“I just . . . I felt good, and I wanted to share it with someone.” Her smile was soft, as were her eyes. “You know that feeling? When you’ve got so much hope, so much positivity in you, and you can’t sit still another second, because it’s wrong not to let others in on that sort of thing?”
He kissed her forehead. “Sort of. Hearing you explain it is fun though. What’s the good news?”
“Not yet.” Mouth firm, she shook her head. “Let’s get you through the All Military games first, and then when you get back, we can lay it all out on the table.”
“I wish you were coming,” he said, and regretted it instantly. Her face fell, and her eyes started to shine with unshed tears. “I understand though,” he added quickly. “I do. I’m not mad. Just . . . you know. You’re important to me. Zach, too, but of course I get why he can’t come.”
“We’re a set.” The words were quiet. “That’s just how it is, for now.”
The fact that she’d mentioned sharing positive news with him after the All Military games gave him hope she would be open to the next bit he was going to share with her. “I want to tell you something. And the reason I’m telling you is because I don’t believe in keeping things from you. I was going to tell you when I came back, but you’re here now, so . . .”
She sat up a little, pulling the sheet higher around her breasts. “You’re scaring me, Graham.”
“Nothing to be scared about. I saw Henry today.”
“You . . . what?” He could tell he’d shocked her. Not just a surprise, but a total shock. “How did you even . . . what did you . . . ho-how?”
“I got his contact info from Tasha. Good lawyer, by the way. On top of it. I can tell she wants to rip the guy in two, legally speaking . . . she’s just waiting for your say-so.”
“I haven’t had the ability to do it before,” she mumbled, scrubbing her hands over her face. “You went to his house? To, what, confront him? Yell at him? Oh my God.” Her eyes grew wide, a little frightened. “Graham, tell me you didn’t beat him up.”
“No.” Offended, he sat back. “Why the hell would I beat him up?”