Page 27

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Adara

G rahame dug his fingers into Adara’s sides as if ready to shake her. A ripple in the muscle along Grahame’s jaw was all the warning she had before his mouth claimed hers again. Was the declaration of her want not enough? Did men not enjoy when women expressed their desire?

She was not well versed in the language of mutual satisfaction. Nimble fingers rounded the back of her dress to fight with the ties between her shoulders.

Yes, she thought, her entire body sparking with a riot of sensation.

Grahame was everywhere, and yet she wanted more. His mouth took and gave as his tongue slipped through her defenses, swirling, then coaxing. All the while his leg rocked beneath her, the grinding of it a sweet torture against her core.

This. This was what she’d always craved.

The connection, the anticipation of Grahame’s next move.

Hands to his upper arms, she followed a path of sinewy muscle to his rounded shoulders and up over the smooth cords of his neck, as if she could hold him in place forever while he kissed her senseless.

His tongue, the use of his teeth against her bottom lip and the way he dove back for more, made her dizzy.

Yet she gave back everything she could. Each tangle of his tongue with hers, every push of his thigh, Adara was with him, sliding, rocking herself into him, chasing the teasing sensation that built low within her.

“’Dara, Christ,” he muttered as he tipped his head.

Her fingers entrenched themselves into the hair at the base of his neck. There was nothing but Grahame’s mouth and teeth and hands.

As if by magic, the material of her dress sagged open.

Air caressed her back, the tops of her breasts.

Adara’s hands flew up to halt the flow of cloth to the floor.

She never liked being fully exposed. It made her vulnerable, left her cold.

Grahame’s lips did not stop moving. Rather, he released her mouth only to score his own down the arch of her throat.

“We shall go slow.” He sewed the words into her skin as he pressed a kiss to the upper part of her breastbone.

Adara shook her head. Embarrassment had her turning her face from his. It was coupled with the sharp lance of fear. Though Muretta spoke of mutual enjoyment, Adara’s body had only been used. And, teetering on the edge of the contact she so craved, Adara was afraid.

“Give me your eyes, Adara,” Grahame commanded, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger and gently turning her face to his.

A gritty resolve stood in his gaze. His insatiable lips were swollen from kissing, which only made Adara want them on her. Excuses and worries filled her to the brim but did not spill out.

Grahame arched a sandy brow, completely at odds with the smooth caress of his tone as he said, “Where did you go, ’Dara? Tell me whatever it is you are thinking.”

She swallowed, her mind a mess while her lower half screamed for his attention. Grahame did not falter. His thumb began drawing slow circles on her hip. The material of her dress, usually soft, began to feel like the scratch of sand, insistent and eager to be removed. She blew out a breath.

“I…I have never wanted to be with a man. I hate to speak of him now, but I never wanted to lay with my husband. Even the times where I acquiesced to his demands, it was only to get the situation over with.”

Grahame studied her, tipping his head to the side. A full-blown grin widened his mouth.

“What about that could possibly make you smile?” she demanded, tearing her chin from his grip.

Grahame slid his fingers along her jaw, holding her still. The fact that he kept his grasp loose only bolstered her need for him. He wouldn’t trap her, wouldn’t force her into anything she did not want.

“It is a good thing I am not he,” Grahame said as he bent to skim his lips over hers.

The feather-light touch on her swollen skin caused a pulse of need to slam through her.

He lifted his head to continue. “I’ve got you, ’Dara.

I won’t push, but I won’t let up, either.

Too much of your desire has been squandered.

Today, you learn that you are in command. ”

Adara’s mouth dropped open. Grahame gripped her by her backside and brought her flush with his body. The thick ridge of his desire prodded her, insistent. He still wanted her. In the face of her…lack, he was right there with her. She forced out the words that somehow colored her cheeks red.

“I know what is required of me, yet I may freeze. I may not feel good for you. I…I may be broken. Or unteachable. Or…”

“Nothing about you is broken, ’Dara. Even like this, you please me more than any other woman I have been with.

It breaks my heart that you had to endure your first husband.

But, enduring isn’t something you will do ever again.

Anyone else we’ve lain with is in the past and does not deserve our attention. ”

The words loosened something inside Adara’s chest.

Grahame’s white teeth flashed as he said, “I would love nothing more than to teach you, if you wish.”

Something dormant inside her blinked awake. His words soothed. A laugh clapped from her. She let the dress slip a little. Grahame’s eyes wandered, as if unable to resist a peek.

“Your breasts were smaller when I knew you before. And, indeed, I was trying my best not to be a lecherous bastard last night, though I believe I failed. May I see how they’ve changed?” he asked.

His finger hooked over the neckline of her dress and brought it to her waist. Her breasts popped free, nipples puckering as the room’s warm air skimmed them. The black centers of Grahame’s eyes grew.

“They have changed, have they not?” she jested.

Mute, Grahame nodded. As if unable to stop himself, hands moved to cup both breasts. Callouses, rough and delicious, scored her skin as they weighed her flesh. A low moan broke from Grahame.

“I must taste them,” he murmured before doing the opposite. Straightening, he withdrew his leg from beneath her, supporting her with a hand around her arm so she’d find balance. With a nod to the bed, he reached for his tunic and ripped it over his head.

Adara claimed her own eyeful of Grahame’s naked torso before she obeyed. It was as if he spent his entire life in the sun without a tunic. Shadows settled in the dents between the roped muscles of his middle. It was obscene. And she drank it in.

“I am happy to remain here for you to ogle at,” Grahame said, flexing his chest muscles in a one, two motion, “but if you’re going to do that, I want your hands on me. Or mine on you. I’m not picky.”

Biting her lip against the fluttering in her belly, Adara released the dress.

Grahame watched, rapt, as the cloth slipped down her middle, over her hips and thighs.

White teeth dented his bottom lip as a hungry grin spread along his mouth.

A shiver coursed through her at the wicked glint in his eye.

With a raised brow he toyed with the lip of his trousers, running a hand over his front while stretching the waist wide with the other.

Adara practically salivated at the sight.

“Lay down on the bed.”

The gravel in his voice made her slick.

With a coy smile she said, “You have watched me unwrap myself. It is only fair that you offer me the same courtesy.”

A low chuckle escaped him. “I’d never deny you, Lady.”

With a flourish, he shoved his pants and underthings to his ankles.

Adara watched with rapt fascination as his manhood bobbed at her.

She stared, memorizing the map of veins and ridges presented to her.

The crown was nearly purple with need, the tip weeping.

Adara gulped. She had seen him in his entirety on their wedding night, however, there hadn’t been opportunity to drink him in.

Grahame was magnificent. A sculpted piece of art.

And yet, the piece of him that protruded at her was…

large. She frowned. Elvin had been nowhere near Grahame’s girth and length.

“’Dara,” he said, his voice full of gravel, “if you look at me like that one moment longer, I will not be responsible for succumbing to my baser instincts.”

For less than a heartbeat, she considered daring him to show her what he meant. But a wariness had bled into his features, as if he were straining hard against himself to remain still. He wanted to treat her right. It made her move to the bed, as requested.

The mattress dented against her weight as Adara threw back the comforter then settled herself among the bountiful pillows.

Like an animal after prey, Grahame prowled on all fours toward her.

Catching her foot, he kissed her ankle before placing it against the outside of his hip, patting it once as if to tell her not to move it.

Then he was sliding between her thighs, layering himself over her so that his arms supported his weight.

Eye level with her breasts, he allowed himself a satisfied sigh before dipping his head and clamping his lips over her left nipple.

Adara arched off the bed at the wet, hungry sensation of his mouth on her.

She gripped his head in both hands, fingers threading themselves into his brassy curls.

A deep hum from his mouth vibrated into her chest as he sucked then nipped then swirled his tongue around the bud. A spinning warmth ratcheted inside her.

“Grahame, yes. Teach me how to feel good,” she moaned, trying to rub herself against him.

Teeth flashed and pulled, then Adara was bereft as he moved to her other breast, her nipple seared with delectable pain.

His hips began to move as if by their own accord, pressing her into the bed.

Slick with want, Adara mumbled something incoherent about needing him.

Grahame chuckled darkly, glancing up at her with his mouth still on her breast.

“Greedy thing. First lesson: though you are wet for me, I need you wetter. Trust me,” he murmured as he lifted himself to slide a hand between them.

Adara’s mouth formed an O of surprise as a finger slid over her slit.

It swirled the moisture from her entrance around once, twice, then roved upward, circling the bud at her center.

All the while, his mouth didn’t stop sucking and pulling and laving at her nipple, causing a riot of pleasure.

The warmth climbing within her spread through her middle, her arms and legs, tightening in the way she’d only experienced with her own hand.

When Grahame placed the heel of his hand against her bud and rubbed, a gasp of pleasure wrought from her.

“There, now, My Lady. Come for me,” he said. He licked from one breast to the other, leaning back slightly to allow for the movement of his hand. The loss of him chilled Adara for just a moment—until the heel of his hand rubbed a second time then was coupled with the insertion of a finger.

“Yes, yes, Grahame. Don’t stop,” Adara moaned, gripping the bedsheets. Eyes clenched shut, she had to hang on, lest her soul wander away with the pleasure that poured through her.

“That’s it, ’Dara. You’re doing so well,” Grahame coaxed in a tone she’d never heard before. It was wine and smoke and stinging hot. His finger thrust in, then out; his hand’s heel grinding propelled her higher into a sensation that nearly made her buckle.

“Grahame, I…” Adara bit her lip against the dive of his hooked finger into a spot that made her see stars. It was sublime and too much all at once. Never had she tasted the riot of this pleasure, and she was suddenly worried she’d only scrape the edge of it, unable to fully enjoy.

“Don’t fight it, ’Dara. No matter the time it takes, this is for you,” Grahame murmured around her nipple.

Another finger joined the first, stretching her in such a delicious way.

And when he curled them? Her doubts shredded, her entire being a vessel.

With a final rub to her apex, pleasure howled through her, relentless.

It was sharper than she’d ever experienced, unbridled in a way that made her limbs quake.

Kisses dotted her hair, her forehead, her cheekbones as Grahame continued the movements of his fingers until the wash of her trembling subsided.

Slowly, Adara opened her eyes. Grahame was staring.

Hunger had stripped his features raw. Though, rather than draw his hand away and thrust into her like she expected, he kept his fingers inside her.

Languidly, as if they owned every moment in the world, he twisted, allowing his thumb to circle around the outside of her opening, just above the tender parts.

Small waves of comforting pleasure lapped at Adara.

All the while, he looked into her eyes as if her coming all over his hand was the answer his soul had been seeking.

She cleared her throat. “Well. Thank you for that.”

Grahame’s answering smirk made her swoon.

“You’re welcome. Now, if you would be so kind, Lady , as to kiss me again. Lesson two is about to begin.”