stealing her breath in a kiss that had her pulse thundering and her lungs struggling even more. “But you let me in, Firefly. You gave me a glimpse, and you need me and, fuck, but I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Her magic bucked in the back of her mind, a tightening coil that threatened to burst outward, that urged her to loosen her control and let it flow free.
Perhaps if she hadn’t been quite so desperate, she would have recognized the signs.
Perhaps she would have been able to control herself, to grasp on to the niggling in the back of her mind and pull it forward, tease out its meaning.
Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.
Because those were all hypotheticals.
Because in that moment, she didn’t find control or question the desire she felt.
In that moment, she let go.
Probably because he reached around her and unclasped her bra, sliding the lace down her arms and tossing it to the side. Maybe also because he slid calloused palms around to her front, up her torso, and cupped her breasts.
But mostly because . . .
She wanted him and this might be the only chance she’d get to have him.
Decision made, she snaked a hand down his chest, slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs and gripping the hard length of him.
“Now, Graham. Please.”
He made a sound she didn’t know how to describe. Half-animalistic, half-need. All scorching desire—or maybe that was just her.
Her need. Her desire.
Her—
She gasped when he bent his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth. No warning. No finesse or gentleness. This was a beast released, a man past his edge, and . . . it was fucking glorious.
He brushed her hands off his cock, and though she missed the hard length of him against her palms, what he did next was even better.
Namely, lifting her off the desk long enough to strip her out of her panties before setting her back down and kneeling between her legs. “Yes?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the inside of one thigh.
“Hell fucking yes.”
He smirked, and she realized that she’d said that aloud, but before she could feel any embarrassment—and frankly, if she were being truthful with herself, there wasn’t any embarrassment. Need, yes. But not shame.
Not with the way Graham was looking at her.
Then there were no more thoughts of emotions or how he was looking at her or regrets or anything that wasn’t pleasure.
Because it was a fuck-ton of pleasure.
A fuck-ton.
His tongue traced up, dipping into the crease of her thigh, making her shiver. Then . . . he kissed her, gave her the absolute best kiss of her life, and it wasn’t on her mouth. He dipped closer, circled her clit and sucked deeply, sliding a finger through the wet heat of her before slipping it inside.
“Oh fuck,” she gasped, already pathetically close.
Or maybe not so much pathetically, as timely.
They had spent a God-awful number of years on foreplay, and tonight . . . well, she might be naked, but they had spent more time talking than hurtling toward orgasm.
Though, that wasn’t the case now.
He sucked and her head fell back, eyes unseeing as he pressed the flat of his tongue to the bundle of nerves, making her thighs clench instinctively around Graham’s shoulders. Thankfully, the forceful move on her part didn’t dislodge him or deter his efforts.
Instead, he just clamped a palm on either knee, spread her wide, and redoubled his efforts.
Tongue circling, fingers sliding in and out.
All the while, she wound tighter and tighter and tighter . . . until he did something incredible with the tip of his tongue that had her gripping the edge of the desk, writhing against him, and—
Exploding.
Or that’s what it felt like anyway. Her every nerve wound taut, threatening to snap and then they did—going suddenly loose and lax as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through her.
It was more tsunami that lapping swell, ripping through her, sending her adrift in the wide-open ocean before she finally found an anchor.
In Graham.
In his warm palms on her knees, in the gentle strokes of his tongue, the slightly roughened callouses on his fingertips.
In the way he coaxed her down from the peak, back into reality, and lightly cupped her cheek. His lips on hers were soft, a slight tang from her on his tongue as he trailed it lazily across hers.
Lazy kisses. Gentling.
Patience.
So much patience even though he was hard and pulsing against her stomach.
“Look at me, Firefly,” he murmured.
She didn’t even know that