Page 33 of Burn the Script

I shimmied up the bed. Graham crawled after me. My head landed on a pillow, and a cloud of his scent sent me reeling, grabbing at his arms to pull him closer as he licked a line from the base of my cock to mole on my sternum.

When he caught my nipple between his lips, I rasped a warning. “Don’t bite them. I hate it.”

With our fingers tightly entwined and pressed into the pillow, Graham lived up to his promise of exploration. His limber back hunched while he feasted on my neck and chest, coaxing needy noises out of me. He freed a hand, and my strained moan was loud when he buried his face in my armpit and gave my cock a few slow pumps before tugging on my balls. A rogue finger slid between my butt cheeks, grazing my hole. I tensed.

“Off limits?” he asked.

“No. And it’s ready for you.”

“Show me.” As he shifted to a kneeling position, I brought my knees to my chest, showing off my waxed ass. Awe and helplessness rumbled through his chuckle. “I’m not gonna survive you.”

“Then enjoy me while you can.”

With a fiendish grin, he lay on his stomach. The second his warm, wet tongue swept my taint, I discovered Graham’s other hidden talent. Research studies should be conducted on the ravenous way he devoured all of me—the over, under, and in-between. The most ungodly sounds poured out of him as his lips, tongue, and fingers turned my rigid spine into hot liquid. My legs trembled, and my dick throbbed. And I may have been running a fever.

Once Graham had reduced me to a pitiful, whimpering puddle, he climbed to his knees again and smirked. “Still with me?”

A grunt was all I could manage as he opened the nightstand drawer. When his hand came away with lube and no condom, my shaky legs dropped to the mattress like lead weights.

“For the record, you look very relaxed,” he said, straddling my thighs.

His balls perched on top of mine while he poured lube into his palm, and I wondered how I ended up pinned beneath a man who embodied sunlight. A good man with a yoga body and adoration in every look he cast my way. I must have stumbled into someone else’s life.

The reality of this being my life hit me when he took us both in hand. I lifted onto my elbows, and his slow, sensual motions held me in a trance as he worked our cocks with languid strokes.

“We look good together,” he said, breathless and stunning with hair falling into his eyes.

“Kiss me.”

The words had barely left my mouth before his lips sought mine. We stretched out and rubbed our bodies together in an uncoordinated dance of slick skin and wandering hands. I left no part of Graham untouched, and he left no part of me feeling undesired. We writhed and rolled until I was grinding on top of him, nibbling on his earlobe.

“Fuck me,” I rasped.

He pulled his head back as far as the pillow would allow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Condom?”

“In the drawer.”

Halfway propped against the pillows and headboard, Graham sprawled out like a lazy starfish with a massive grin on his face while I hurried to get him sheathed and lubed. If I wasted time or stopped to think, I wouldn’t go through with it.

“Damn. You’re really horny for my big, juicy dick,” he said.

My busy hands froze, and I groaned, eyes squeezing shut. “Please, for the love of god, never say those words again.”

His whole body bounced beneath mine while he laughed. “Sorry. I’m not the best at dirty talk, but it got you out of your head.”

“No, you’re not. And thank you.”

Fighting a smile, I reached behind me to guide his big, juicy dick to my hole. There were patience and reminders to breathe on his part and lots of cursing on mine. Finally, his cock popped in. I clung to the headboard, one-handed, while sucking air through my gritted teeth.

“Fucking hell, you feel bigger than you look.”

“We can stop.” The strain in his voice and the strong fingers gripping my thighs told a different story. He wanted one of us to move.

Shifting my hips to test my low pain tolerance, I shook my head. “I’m okay, but go easy. I don’t like it rough.”

“You’re in control.”