by kj lewis
“Yo, bud.” Adam’s words stop our exploration. “Use your room,” he says to Graham.
I laugh climbing out of the pool to dry off.
“You coming?” I ask as sweet as I can, laughing at the face Graham gives me. I know it will be a few minutes before he is able to get out of the water.
Grabbing a Diet Coke out of the fridge I head up to my room to shower the chlorine out of my hair. I’m not sure how long I have been in there, but the shower door opening behind me pulls my eyes up. Graham gets into the shower, his eyes distant. He pulls me to him and thrusts his tongue into my mouth. I draw him in like air. He pushes my back against the wall and his tongue starts the dance again.
We really need to talk, but I can’t make myself stop. His mouth works its way down my body in a pattern of kisses and love nips, his tongue darting out to soothe the bite. He takes his time with each of my breasts, sucking and rubbing my nipples while his hand massages the other one. I could orgasm by this action alone. Just when I think that is his intention, he drops to his knees. My hands fist his hair as his mouth works its way across my stomach and down my hips. He spends time on each thigh, finally making his way back to my sex. It’s more sensitive than usual after waxing and he moans his approval when his tongue maps across it. My legs shake, his hands coming to my hips to support me. He runs his nose up and down my “v”, taking his time. I’m impatient and try to urge him along.
He shakes his head chastising me.
“I want to memorize your smell.” He sticks his nose between my legs and inhales deeply. It feels vulnerable, but also cared for at the same time.
Lifting one leg over his shoulder he drinks me in. My hands fist in his hair. He likes it when I tug. His name on my lips makes him smile as he continues pulling back each time I’m about to come. Its heaven and torture mixed into one.
“Graham,” I beg, and he has mercy on me, catching my body as fireworks shoot off behind my eyelids. He continues to devour all my body will give him.
Once he knows I won’t fall, he slowly moves up my body, his weight helping me stay in place. Our breathing is labored and we stand there, just being with each other. My body finally surfaces back to this planet. I turn his back to the wall. His lips roll into a knowing smile as my hand begins to move up and down his imposing length. His breathing quickens, an exhale whistling through his teeth. It’s intoxicating to know I have this effect on him. I can’t help but wonder who else has had this effect on him. For the first time, I realize I do actually have a jealous streak. I push that out of my mind and continue working his cock.
My eyes meet his and I see the challenge in them. I drop to my knees eager to taste him. I realize once I have him there, that I maybe should have spent a little more time working my way down, but I’m still learning and my greed overcame the best of me. The rise and fall in his chest tells me he doesn’t mind, and his hands find my hair.
I run my tongue under his length and suckle just below the head, circling to the tip and working my way back down to his sac. I lightly apply suction with my mouth while gently massaging him with my hand. My tongue darts over the small landing just behind his testicles. He tugs my hair letting me know that he likes it. I start the whole process again, this time moving him to the back of my throat and out again. I push him to the back of my throat again and hum. His knees shake and I know he is close. I pull my mouth all the way off him, kissing and licking his darkened tip.
I take both of my hands and gently roll him back and forth. I give a slight tug as my hands slide to the end. I look up at him through my eyelashes and ever so slowly, I put his cock in my mouth to the back of my throat again, concentrating on breathing through my nose. I succeed and am able to hold it there a few seconds longer than usual. Not moving my eyes of his, I put my hands behind my back and hold my mouth in place, submitting. Being vulnerable. Giving him charge over the pace. Letting him fuck my mouth.
“Emelia.”
The reverence in his voice reaches my heart. His eyes turn a midnight blue as he places his hands on the side of my face and begins setting a pace. Fucking my mouth. I can tell he’s about to come and I increase the suction, giving him the permission to come in my mouth. He pushes to the back of my throat two more times before he stops. His come shoots onto my tongue and down my throat. He continues fucking my mouth, milking himself through his orgasm until he has nothing else to give.
His legs tremble. I move up his body, supporting him with mine. We stay there with the water running over us. Neither of us say a word. Once he has his breathing under control, he cups my jaw and kisses me.
What was that? That was not fucking. It was passionate. It was intimate. It was knowing.
Graham looks as bewildered by the experience as I do. It’s time to lay our cards on the table. We’re naked in the shower. We can’t hide.
“We need to talk,” I begin.
“Yes, we do. You left last night without telling me.”
“I told you. I sent you a text. I think the words you are looking for is that I left last night without your permission.”
I let my comment sink in for a minute. He doesn’t respond.
“Are you a dominant?”
“I told you already. No. Yes, I have rules that I want the women I’m with to follow. No, I don’t do contracts. I do use toys to heighten your experience, and I do want to punish you when you break the rules, but only to pink your bottom, never to mark you. Remind you who’s in charge.”
I look at him, pretending I need clarification about who he means.
“That would be me, Emelia. I am in charge,” he clarifies, challenging me not to inject a smart comment here.
“I’m this way whether you choose to attach a title to it. If that makes me a dominant in your eyes, then so be it.”
I purse my lips in thought. “Do you want me to be your submissive?” I ask.
“I want you, period.”
“As an affair? For six weeks.”
“I don’t know that I will ever have my fill of you, Emelia. Every time I think I can make myself walk away, something pulls me back for more.”
“Did you see Colleen last night?”
“Yes. She told me you left before I saw your text.” He looks perplexed.
“Did she tell you who I met last night?”
He shakes his head, wondering where this is going.
“Alex Russo.” I study his response, but he gives nothing away. “He propositioned me with money for sex. He said you wouldn’t mind. If you did, you would have a collar on me.”
I see the clouds brewing in his eyes. I don’t say anything else. I wait him out, which doesn’t take long.
“Emelia.” I hear the uneasiness in his tone.
“Graham. Did you give me the necklace because you wanted me to have a beautiful necklace, or was it a temporary collar like you give your other girls?
His not answering is my answer.
I turn off the water and step out of the shower, toweling myself off. I don’t say anything. I pull on his sweats and a black tank top. His eyes follow me.
I sit and braid my hair in pigtails and move to my room. He walks in soon after in shorts and a Giants t-shirt. He sits on the bed and watches me with unease as I tie a ribbon around the package I wrapped earlier. There’s a knock at the door.
“Dinner is ready,” Lucy announces.
“What good is giving me a collar to show ownership if I don’t know it? I want to belong to you, Graham. I am certain of it. But I don’t want to be owned. And I can’t be what you need. Add the time-frame restrictions and my own shit that I bring to the table, and I think we need to call this exactly what it is. You have been right from the beginning. You knew it. I just didn’t want to admit it. This is and was an affair.”
I move around the desk and stand in front of him, leaning down to press a light kiss to his cheek. He still hasn’t said a word, and his expression is giving nothing away. I can tell I’m losing my grip and exit the room to head
to the kitchen. Once in the hall, I exhale, trying to lock my shit down and move forward.
The table outside is set. The sun to set soon. I pull on my Jackie O sunglasses. Their large frames make me feel protected, like I will make it through this with my emotions intact.
Lucy has gone to announce dinner to Graham again. We take our usual seats around the table minus Becca and Matt. Ruth is to my right and Graham has arrived to take his seat across from me, next to Lucy. He’s quiet.
The rest of the family is oblivious and buoyant in their conversation. I watch Ruth who winks at me. Jules sets a Diet Coke in front of me, and I expect push back from Graham. He doesn’t say anything, nor does he acknowledge it.
He speaks when spoken to, as do I. I doubt the family is any wiser.
“I feel extra blessed to have each of you here today. My family,” Ruth says squeezing my hand, and I bite my lip to keep it from quivering.
“Darling,” she says to Ben, “We have so much love to be grateful for. Would you say a blessing?”
Ben studies his wife with love and admiration for a moment. His right hand reaches out to Jules and his left one to Lucy. One by one we hold hands around the table. Adam squeezes my hand as he folds it into his. Ruth tightens her grip she already has. Ben says a prayer of blessing.
My eyes are on Graham. He knows I’m struggling to hold my emotions together. He nods slightly at me. I know it’s his way of comforting and letting me know I can make it through this dinner. It’s enough to undo me, and I am so grateful that my eyes are covered. Tears well but don’t fall.
Adam pokes me each time he passes me food, causing me to punch him in the arm. It’s like a usual family meal. Love and laughter and stories.
After dessert, I hand Ruth the gift I had been wrapping earlier.
“I wanted to give this to you and Ben before I leave tomorrow. I cannot thank you enough for your kindness this week. How much care you have shown me. It filled a place that has been void in me for a while now. It’s just a little something to show you the gratitude I feel for you both.”
I look back to Ruth, and she swipes away a single tear that has fallen down her cheek.
“Mom, you are so sappy,” Lucy gently teases.
Ruth laughs, removing the wrapping. She stops when she sees the picture I framed of her and Ben. She stares at it before turning it to Ben for him to see.
“When did you take this? It’s beautiful.”
She turns it over to find the message I have written on the back.
Ben and Ruth, Words cannot express what y’all mean to me. Thank you for being the kind of people who make an impact on others. When I first saw this picture, I was mesmerized by the beauty of both of you. As I studied it longer, I realized it’s the beauty of the love you have for each other that is shining through so boldly. May your love and family continue to be bold in the lives of others. With love, Emme.
“Emme. It’s…” Tears begin to follow the single one that fell a moment ago. Ben moves to her end of the table placing a hand on her shoulder. Her hand coming up to rest on his. He reads the message I have written and kisses Ruth’s head in a show of support of her emotions. Ruth never finishes her sentence, but leans over and kisses my cheek like only a mother can, laughing at her own tears.
She hands the frame to Adam and it makes its way around the table. I’m embarrassed and touched by the response to the note I’ve written. Graham reads it and excuses himself from the table.
The rest of us help in clearing the dishes and cleaning up, everyone expressing wishes I would stay another day. I make polite excuses of course and let them know that they will see me in the city.
“Adam or Jules, would you mind driving me to Jackson’s? I was hoping to save them a trip in this direction.”
“Sure thing,” Adam studies me for a minute. His face softens and he kisses the top of my head. “I’ll help you get your things.”
Her hips sway and slide down over my rigid cock. My breath leaves my body in a rush of air. My hands rest on her thighs as she lifts and lowers herself on and off me.
Her chin is raised, her hair falling long and thick down her back. I watch as she takes her pleasure from me. Her hands knead her breasts, pinching her nipples when I direct her to.
She’s a goddess. An enchantress.
She was meant for this. Meant to be mine. Meant to be possessed by me.
Her mouth parts and her tongue licks the plump curves of her lips, wetting them as her pace quickens. She’s close. I know her body. I know every inch of her.
I want her.
I need her.
She is mine.
The tips of her fingers skim her skin as she slides her hands to her neck, lifting her hair onto her head. Sweat glistens between the globes of her breast. I move my hands to her hips, my grasp firm and possessive. I direct her movements, driving myself deeper inside of her, my hips meeting hers on each thrust.
“Graham.” She breathes my name like it’s music to her. She’s close. Three, maybe four more thrusts and I know she will be coming over me.
“Come, Emelia.” I command her body, pushing it over the precipice she has been perched on. Her hands fall to my chest and her beautiful large brown eyes open and spear my soul, making contact with mine. She sees me, all of me, and before I can control it, I’m coming long and hard inside her. Her eyes never leave mine. She doesn’t back down.
She is mine.
I wake with an ache in my dick and semen in pools on my stomach. I haven’t had a wet dream since I was a teenager. My breathing is long but shallow, and my cock is still hard, almost painful to touch. To finish what the dream started, to find some temporary release, I close my eyes and imagine it’s Emelia’s hand touching me, her lips wrapped around me. It’s all that is needed to send me over the edge.
It’s been two weeks since the Hamptons. Two weeks since she called me on my shit and walked away. Two weeks of this miserable abyss.
A woman has never had this effect on me before. My attention to business has been completely lacking. I’ve been snapping at my staff. My family. Everyone. I thought Adam was going to deck me yesterday when I snapped at Jules, Emelia’s best friend.
The first week back from the Hamptons was difficult enough, but I survived it. The second week has been utter torture. Sitting across from her in meetings, watching her interact with other men. Watching them eye-fuck her. Christ. I nearly put my fist into that fucker’s face yesterday.
And yet, she seems fine. Totally unaffected. Oblivious to the havoc she has caused in my structured life. The destruction she left in the wake of her storm.
I’ve never had to fight for a woman, much less a relationship. If I said ten words to the girls I fucked, it was a loquacious event. We both knew what we brought to the table: I brought money and connections, they brought sex. All I wanted. But Emme, she doesn’t care about my money or connections and I want her around all the time. Not just for sex. I’m thirty. I have an organization to run. I still have things I want to accomplish. A relationship complicates that. I’m not sure I would even know how to have both at the same time.
The heat from the shower distracts me and I find a moment of peace without thoughts of her controlling my every breath. I can do this, I think. I can. As I rinse off the body wash she left at the beach house, I know. I know I’m lying to myself. Emelia is mine and today is the day I take charge. This will go much easier if I take control. If I had taken control at the beach, I wouldn’t be so tormented. She’s just so damn stubborn. I don’t know that I have ever met anyone as obstinate as she is. It’s fucking sexy.
No wonder she’s all over the place, Taylor. You’re sending her so many mixed signals.
Smith is waiting for me. He’s kept his thoughts to himself, but I feel his frustration at how I have handled Emelia. It’s irritating. Irritating because he’s right and because I care. We ride in silence to the office, and when Smith stops at the front door, I take a moment to regain the composure I lost si
nce I first sat next to her on that plane. Today, I will rectify that mistake. I’m taking control. I walk through the doors of the empire I’ve built, make my way to a pillar across from the elevators, and wait.
It’s no time at all before I see her and fuck me. Her hair is pulled up, errant strands hanging loose framing her face. What little make-up she wears just accentuates how naturally stunning she is. Her hips sway seductively as she teeters on four-inch heels. Her sheer blouse shows a lace structured bodice underneath. Her skirt is what pinup dreams are made up of. Tight, the high waist lying flat over her stomach, the taper at the knee highlighting her curves. Very sexy secretary.
As she enters, she greets the staff by name, something some of my senior staff can’t do after years of working here. She has been here a week and already she knows the people who work the door, the desk, and security. I hear her asking Sarah about her daughter. Her genuine smile tugs at my heart, and whatever Sarah tells her makes her laugh. Her laugh is genuine and attentive.
She steps away from the crowded entrance to locate her badge. Adam made sure her card had access her first day in the building, but I already know she won’t take the elevator reserved for me and my immediate family.
She locates her badge and Magda, one of my custodial staff, drops some supplies she is carrying. I watch several men’s steps falter when Emelia smooths her hand down the back side of her skirt when she squats to help Magda pick up the supplies, addressing her by name. Duncan in legal stops to offer her a hand as she stands. Oblivious to his intentions, she says thank you and makes her way through security. He can’t take his eyes off of her ass as she walks away. I make an unreasonable mental note to fire that fucker.
Troy discretely stops her after the security check and feeds her the line I gave him. She enters my private elevator. And so it begins…
Words really don’t do justice for the love I have for each person that helped encourage me along the way. There is no way this would have happened without you!