“I wanted to be with you. I blew off all my plans because I didn’t know…didn’t…was waiting for you like some nincompoop.”
He picked up the roses from the bed and started for her.
Desire like she’d never known welled in her throat. She saw him and wanted all of him, all over her, right here, right now. Her heart raced, and her stomach hurt from so much hunger for him she thought she’d fold over.
His lips curled softly into an amused smile, and his eyes glowed as he approached. “The letters said midnight. Didn’t they?” He spoke softly, with quiet emphasis, but she was infuriated and horny out of her mind.
She spoke in a suffocated whisper. “I’m not good with codes, Graves, you could’ve just—”
“I WILL PICK YOU UP AT MIDNIGHT—that’s what it read. I sent the diamonds in order, Chlo.”
“You did?”
That threw her for a loop. She’d been so excited opening her diamonds, viewing them, and receiving the next, that the letters had gotten all mixed up.
“Oh,” she said, feeling inept.
He reached for her and lifted a hand to cup her face in his warm palm, his smile gone. Emotions swirled in the depths of his eyes like lightning, and the desire in them made her pussy get soaked. “Did you have a good birthday?” he asked thickly.
The raspy arousal in his voice and tender touch disintegrated all her frustration until she was left a mass of quaking, vibrant desire. She could barely even swallow. “I am now. Thank you for my gifts. And—” When he extended to her the lovely red roses, an emotion that felt a lot like love unfurled inside her as she clutched them with trembling hands to her chest. “Thank you for these.”
She knew they may only be having sex, but the fact that he was doing all these things for her touched her in ways she’d never imagined.
“You’re welcome.” He took the roses from her and almost as soon as he’d put them down, he went to his bureau and pulled out another several dozen. She swallowed when he grabbed each rose in his fist, pulled, then spread out all the silken red petals over the bed.
He was making…a bed of roses for her…?
Piercing lust assaulted all her senses. She bit her lower lip to keep from moaning in pain, primed and ready and shaking uncontrollably as she watched this exhilarating man spread out each and every rose petal over his bed for her.
She had never expected or imagined anything even remotely romantic from a man like Graves. But the fact that he’d thought of this after showering her all day with diamonds made her want to…die.
Now she would never forget this night as long as she lived.
Now no man would ever compare.
No man would ever hold a candle to him.
Oh, God, she was so screwed.
“I…you didn’t need to do that. But thank you, Graves.”
He set aside the stems and then he started toward her. His walk burst with male purpose, and her heart thumped like a mad thing as she watched. Dadump dadump dadump.
“It’s nothing compared to what you’re giving me.”
His tender words electrified her. Magnetized her. She’d never wanted anything so much, had never been truly willing to die for something.
Her voice barely made it past her constricted throat. “Graves…please touch me.”
“Come here, princess.” He scooped her into his strong, capable arms then easily carried her across the room, toward the bed. She felt him bury his nose in her hair and inhale her, and a wanton shudder racked through her overheated body at the gesture.
When he lowered her at the foot of the bed and purposely let her slide down his deliciously ripped body, Chloe’s eyes widened. His cock stretched out so long and huge against her abdomen, she moaned instinctively and pressed her body into his, undulating suggestively up on her tiptoes.
The way she caught him staring down at her knocked off her breathing pattern.
Graves had never looked at her with such unabashed lust. His flaming eyes promised her that he had every intention of taking her in all the ways a man could take a woman tonight. Liquid heat rushed into her panties. The pain in her breasts intensified, and she licked her anxious lips. “Graves.”
He slid his hands all over her curves as if memorizing her shape while those golden eyes trekked across her face—her nose, her cheeks, her eyes—then he lifted his hand and touched the pad of his thumb to her lower lip as though he wanted to taste her there. With one slow, sinuous swipe, that thumb caressed across her lips, and she bit back a moan as her tongue snaked out to wantonly lick him. “Graves.”
His eyes were fire on her face, his voice a terse rasp. “I want you so much, Chlo.” His features hardened with desire as he inserted his thumb into the depths of her parted mouth.
She latched onto the offering and suckled with all her thirst and hunger. His taste was salty, his eyes almost animal wild as she twirled her tongue around him, pretending his finger was his tongue or his cock. Arousal made her tremble. A wash of cream coated her pussy at the thought of going down on him. She was so wet now she was afraid she would leak.
Graves retrieved his thumb and dragged it wetly down her curves, then his fingers splayed on her buttocks and flattened her up against his hard length, molding her against him. “I want to lick”—he bent to lick her bare shoulder—“and suck”—he gave a hot, hungry suck at her neck—“and fuck you until you scream.”
“Please do it fast, do it now.”
His unapologetic stare glazed with desire as he undid the zipper on the side of her bandage dress with a look that promised her untold ecstasy.
She let him. Had dressed today only with the sole thought, the sole reason, of him undressing her. Her skin pebbled when she stepped out of her dress in her new Agent Provocateur underwear, the thong panties transparent through the lace and almost nonexistent. Her bra was tiny as well, merely covering her nipples with a black lace flower.
The lustful spark in his eyes and the tightening of his face thrilled her as he reached behind her to unhook her delicately laced black bra. Her breasts bounced free, and she ached to hear him say something, but he was without words, looking at her in an almost raw, primal way.
Wobbly on her feet in only her Jimmy Choos and her teeny tiny panties, she nervously extended out her wrists, her voice cottony. “Put your handcuffs on me.”
He stilled for a moment, as though caught off guard by the offer. He shook his head and surveyed her breasts like he planned to devour them. “No, Chlo.”