by Emily Snow
As I look around the hangar for the driver I was told would meet me, I tug down on the hem of the dress, biting my lip and wondering what Senator Sexy-Ass’s response to it will be. To my surprise, my curiosity is quickly satisfied. I feel a hand on my lower back and warm lips against my ear.
“You look good enough to eat right here,” he tells me. Inhaling his scent, warmth spreads through my veins. I look over my shoulder to find him smirking down at me. He’s wearing sunglasses, but I’m sure the look in his deep brown eyes is just as cocky as his grin. “We should go before I make a fucking spectacle of us both.”
Moisture floods my mouth, but I swallow hard and nod. Walking by his side, I steal a glance at him. And, God, he’s gorgeous. He’s dressed in tan pants and a dark blue blazer that’s open to reveal a white shirt with the top two buttons undone.
“I have to admit, I’m a little shocked you came to pick me up,” I say, and a grin splits his bronze face.
He gestures to the Mercedes SUV that had taken me to his apartment the last time I was in New York. I see AJ—the chauffeur who had driven me around before—standing by the door to the third row. Graham bends his head, tickling my ear with his stubble.
“Unfortunately, my car is still in D.C. and I would look like an ass to my constituents with a fleet of vehicles at my disposal,” he whispers, chuckling at the shiver that ripples through me. “So you’ll have to settle for this.”
I lift the corner of my lips. “Well, at least I know you won’t try anything dirty in the car, just to refuse me once you have me where you want me.”
He hands my bag to AJ, who tells me how nice it is to see me again. “Give us a moment,” Graham instructs him, earning a nod from the chauffeur. As soon as AJ goes around to the trunk, Senator Sexy-Ass whips off his sunglasses and shoves them into his pocket. He frames my face with one hand.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Elle.” Slanting his mouth over mine, he kisses me quick and hard, leaving me just as breathless and light-headed as if he’d gone through several minutes of foreplay and filthy talk. “Just because I didn’t hike up your skirt and kiss your pussy in the middle of a hangar doesn’t mean I won’t find ways to make you come in the car.”
“We’re not alone,” I say through a gasp.
He responds by easing his hand under the flared hem of my dress and shoving my panties to the side. I glance around frantically, wondering if the chauffeur is witnessing every moment of this, but AJ is still at the trunk.
Leaving my panties in their current position, Graham straightens my dress and squeezes my ass. He gestures into the car. “After you.”
I scramble across the seat and he follows right behind me.
A few seconds later, AJ slides into the driver’s seat and looks into the rearview mirror, wearing one of the most professional smiles I’ve ever seen. No doubt he’s seen and heard it all working for Graham and his family.
“All ready, Senator Delaney and Miss Sutton?”
Miss Sutton. I’d almost forgotten that Graham had given the driver my middle name to protect my identity.
“We’re ready,” he answers. I feel his hand on my bare thigh, and it takes all my strength not to react. Flushing, I avert my attention from AJ to look at Senator Sexy-Ass. “I wonder if you can get through this without giving yourself away,” he murmurs.
I pull my eyebrows together. “Get through what?”
The moment the car starts moving, he slides his hand up between my legs. He pumps my left thigh, then the right. “This.”
“You’re not really going to...” My hissed whisper dies away because he moves his hand higher. Using two fingers, he spreads my sex and then circles his knuckles around my damp flesh. My mouth starts to drop open, but I stop myself. I suck on my bottom lip and note the challenge in his expression.
Your move, dove, I can almost hear him saying.
Releasing my lip, I straighten my spine. “Where exactly is it we’re going?”
“Dinner.” He shoves one of his fingers deep inside me, then another. I dig my fingers into his forearm and hold my breath. Lifting my eyes to the front of the vehicle, I’m shocked to see AJ’s eyes are still firmly glued to the road. I glare at Graham, and he winks back.
“And where will we be dining?” Because at the rate he’s going, I’m going to be a wreck before we step foot inside wherever he’s taking me.
“It’s a surprise.” He parts my legs a bit more. Moving one more finger deep inside of me to join the other two that are already driving me into madness, he stares me down intently while addressing the chauffeur. “Eleanor wants to know if you mind turning up the radio. This song is one of her favorites.”
AJ doesn’t glance up. He simply nods. “Yes, sir.”
Honestly, I do like the song that’s playing—The White Stripe’s “Fell In Love with a Girl.” But even though the catchy beat is blasting right in my ear, I can only hear half the lyrics. The sound of my heartbeat and my pulse throbbing in my ears overpower every other sound except for his voice.
“Do you know how amazing you smell tonight?” he asks me in a conversational tone.
“This is so wrong,” I retort through labored breaths.
He touches my face, runs the back of his index finger gently over my cheek, all the while roughly pumping his other hand against my sex, plunging his fingers in and out of my body.
“Are you hungry?” I nod, and he kneads my clit with the palm of his hand. Dear God. It’s hard not to moan, not to cry out, but I maintain my calm demeanor.
“Starving,” I say.
A slow grin builds on his handsome face, and the look of desire in his dark eyes finally breaks some of my control. I shudder. Convulse around his fingers. When I close my eyes and turn my face in toward the hand cupping my cheek, he lowers his mouth to my temple. “We have twenty minutes until we reach our destination.” He pulls his fingers out of my body, smearing my wetness on the insides of my thighs. “You will do that for me over and over again until we get there.”
My body is on fire, throbbing and shaking, but I nod. “I will,” I whisper.
I expect Graham to take me to his Fifth Avenue condo for dinner, but instead, AJ drives us to a small restaurant located in the heart of West Village. My legs shake as I get out of the Mercedes, but Graham steadies me, gripping my waist possessively.
“We’re actually eating at a restaurant?” I ask incredulously. Graham shifts an eyebrow, staring down at me in amusement.
“That’s usually how dinner goes,” says the man who once told me that he normally dines alone after having sex. He guides me toward the entrance. “Don’t walk like that. People will talk.”
But I’m not sure what people he’s referring to because when we get inside the actual restaurant, I discover that the place is completely empty. Waiting by the abandoned maître d’ standing desk while Graham speaks to AJ, I focus on calming my body as I take in my surroundings. With its lush, dark leather seating, mirrored ceilings, and chandeliers, the atmosphere of the restaurant is sensual and stunning. Which makes the fact that it’s a culinary wasteland confusing.
Feeling Graham’s body heat behind me, I turn around slowly to face him. Butterflies rush through my stomach. “Where’s the staff?”
“Celebrating New Year’s Eve with their families.” Resting his hand on my ass, he guides me to a giant booth that’s already set for two—complete with the dinner he’d promised. “This was one of my earlier investments, and I pulled some strings.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Clearing out an entire restaurant is a little more than pulling strings, Graham, it’s—” I gasp because he pulls me to him and hikes up the hem of my dress to rip my wet panties off. He shoves them into his pocket. “What happened to people seeing us?”
“Do you see anybody here?” He kisses me—a deep and sexy dance of our tongues that makes me see stars. Drawing away from me, he lets out a shuddering breath. “The doors are locked. The fucking place is empty. You’re all mine.”
r /> “And here I was thinking you were really taking me to dinner,” I tease.
“You are dinner,” he says. Urging me into the booth, he taps the inside of my left knee. “I’m fucking over waiting. Legs apart, Elle. I want to taste you.”
TWENTY-THREE
ELLE
Somewhere between my shoulder blades crashing against the cushioned seat and Graham telling me just how beautiful my cunt looks tonight—those are his exact words—I come to terms with the fact that I’m in New York. In a restaurant that’s been cleared out just so Senator Sexy-Ass can seduce me. And that Graham’s filthy-talking mouth is now buried between my thighs, lapping hungrily at my core like it’s his last meal.
Is this real life?
If it’s not, if I’m dreaming again, I sure as hell don’t want to wake up and float back down to reality.
“I don’t want you to come yet,” he tells me, pressing one of his knuckles to my clit. He rubs a slow circle, replaces his finger with his mouth, and sucks gently. A broken hum escapes my lips and he growls, “If you’re going to come already, we’re going to have to take this slower.”
Fisting my fingers through his dark hair, I arch my back to meet the powerful strokes of his tongue. I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want anything right now but his mouth and his hand and his cock. “I won’t come.”
It’s a lie, and he chuckles, the heat from his mouth devastating me. “Your voice gets all deep when you’re not telling the truth. We should definitely slow down.”
I grind my teeth. “Oh my God, please...” I cry, but a wave of pleasure washes over me. He taps the inside of my thigh. Then the other. “Please,” I rasp.
He wrenches his mouth from my body. “Please what?” he demands. His brown eyes stare me down, stripping away my inhibitions. “I want to hear you beg, dove.”
“Please don’t stop,” I pant. Not now. I want him too much. Need him. I feel like I’ve waited too long just for him to deny me. Like I’ve been through hell and back for this man that I’ll crumble if he doesn’t finish this time. “Please don’t take this away from me.”
“Why the fuck would I stop?” He inhales through his nose and releases the breath from parted lips. “We’re too far into this for me to even consider that. I just want to savor every part of your delicious body. Slowly. There will be time for quick later, but not tonight.”
Sliding his powerful hands beneath my ass, he boosts my hips to give himself better access to my sex. He explores me with the tip of his tongue, from my clit to my pussy. The muscles in my feet spasm.
“You have no idea how good you taste.” His lips close and meet the opening of my sex. “You have no idea at all.”
“Tell me,” I plead. I fist his hair in my hands. “Please.”
He slides his fingertip into me, moving it in a circle, before pulling it out and licking it clean. “You’re a drug, Eleanor. A fucking drug. You’re so soft.” His voice is low, almost a whisper. “I don’t want this to end.”
I don’t want that either. I’ve never felt anything like what he’s doing to me at this very moment, and I can’t imagine never feeling this way again. I crave Graham. The uncertainty. The kick in the gut when he opens his awful mouth. The way it hurts when his fingers scorch my skin. I crave the sensation in my chest—my ribcage shrinking in on my heart—whenever he turns his eyes on me.
“I want to be inside of you,” he says, pausing after every word to work my body over with a swipe of his skillful tongue. “I need to be inside of you.”
“Then do it.” I shut my eyes, sucking in my belly because I feel the orgasm building. I moan, bang my head into the booth behind it, and then tell him in a voice that pulsates, “Fuck me, Graham.”
Clutching my ass harder, he plunges his tongue as deep inside of me as it will go. I buck my hips. He rolls his tongue deep within my sex in a mind-blowing circular motion, and I shudder, tightening my muscles. He groans in pleasure.
“I need to come.”
He responds to my confession by parting my ass cheeks. “You just think you need to,” he tells me. He gently strokes one of his fingertips over my asshole, pulling a loud gasp from the back of my throat. “No coming yet.”
“I-I’ve never been touched there.”
He laughs. “So you lied to me that night in my car.”
“Y-yes.”
“I already knew that. Just wanted to hear you admit it.” He eases the tip of his finger inside. Drives his tongue deeper into my pussy as I drive my hips up to meet the feverish strokes of his mouth. As much as I try to stop myself, it’s a waste of time trying to hold back the tiny tremors that begin to weigh my limbs and threaten to shatter my body.
“Not yet,” I murmur, squeezing my eyes tightly together. “Please not yet.”
I cry out in disappointment when he pulls his tongue out of me. “Do you want to come?” He blows a harsh breath against my belly button.
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to keep fucking you?”
“Yes.”
He exhales against each of my hipbones, and I tingle all over. “Make up your fucking mind, Ms. Courtney,” he teases. “Do you want to come, or do you want me to continue licking you clean?”
“I want it all!” I shriek.
Carefully—the most patient he’s been since he first touched me with his mouth—he finishes sliding his finger into my asshole. I tilt my head just in time to see him close his eyes and breathe in and out in an attempt to maintain control over the situation.
“Good,” he finally says. He draws my clit between his teeth again, sucking more relentlessly than before. The climax seizes my body, owning me, sending a new sensation through me that makes me go limp. I release his hair. “I’m going to give it all to you, Elle,” he promises.
After he finishes licking and tasting and stroking my body, and I’m no longer quivering so violently, Graham straightens my dress. He apologizes for letting our food get cold. And then, he excuses himself to the restroom. When he returns, we eat in silence, as if the last thirty minutes never happened.
It’s the calm that scares the hell out of me.
It leaves me terrified that this night will end with him giving me the cold shoulder, and I worry, fidgeting with my pearls when AJ picks us up from the restaurant and drives us to Graham’s apartment. But the moment we’re behind closed doors again, he pins me to the wall, knocking the breath out of me.
I curve my body against his. “I thought we were done,” I admit.
“Nowhere near it.”
“I’m glad,” I whisper, and he holds my face between his hands and crushes his lips to mine, kissing me with an urgency that causes me to moan against his mouth. The same mouth that had driven me to spasms earlier tonight. I want it on me again. Kissing me, licking me, touching me.
“I’m going to fuck you, Eleanor.” He inclines his head to one side to search my gaze for any sign of an argument. “I’m going to fuck out four weeks of frustration into your beautiful body, do you understand?” Shivering, I nod, and he continues, “I’m going to ring in the New Year with your pussy squeezing my cock until I come, and then we’re going to do it all over again.”
Bobbing my head, I roll my tongue over my lips. “I’m ready.” I sag against him and tremble when he unzips my dress. It falls in a black puddle on the floor.
The last time I stepped into his bedroom, the cold shades of black and white had intimidated me, but this time I’m prepared. I sit on the edge of his bed, watching him shrug off his clothing and admiring his beautiful bronze body.
I will never be able to read an article or look at Graham Delaney on television again without picturing tonight—the way he looks in the moonlight. The sinewy muscles. That hand carving through dark hair just before he turns to me.
“It’s not polite to stare,” he says.
I suck in a breath as I whip my gaze from his length. “Would you rather I look away?”
“No,” he says. He approaches me slowly an
d leans over the bed. Before I can stop myself, I spit in my hand, wrap my fingers around his shaft, and move my fingers up and down. “Sweet, Elle, but your hand is the last thing on my mind right now.”
But he doesn’t stop me from what I’m doing when I ask, “Then how do you want me?”
“On your stomach, with your ass in the air and your fingers touching the headboard.”
“Are you...” I swallow down the sudden lump in my throat. Even though his finger had been in my ass earlier, I still can’t quite bring myself to say it. “You’re not going to do it there, right?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet, but I will.” He points to the center of his massive bed. “On your stomach.”
Waiting for him on the bed, I’m a mess. A few seconds after I hear the wrapper of the condom rip, though, I feel his erection hot and heavy against my ass cheek. Rubbing his hand back and forth over my sex, he groans.
“Fuck, how can you be so wet all the time?”
I glance over my shoulder at the pained expression on his face. “I can go dry off,” I whisper.
Leaning forward, he gives my breast a harsh pump, rolling my nipple between his fingertips. “Fuck no. It’s amazing.”
“Then don’t complain,” I say. I’m ready to give him another smart-ass remark, but then he trails the head of his cock between my folds, sliding the tip inside me. I already knew he was large, but that knowledge still doesn’t prepare me for the sudden fullness I feel.
“Ohhh,” I gasp.
“Figured that would shut you up.” He holds my waist with one hand, spanks me with the other, and then caresses my stinging flesh. I tighten my sex around him in response. “Turn around, Elle. Ass in the air. Hands on the headboard.”