Her face flamed at the sight of her juices welling from her and preparing her so quickly for his possession.

Pulling her hips toward him and lifting them slightly, Lyrica found herself on her back once again as Graham’s broad hand cupped the dew-rich folds. Parting the swollen lips, his fingers found the trapped, slick heat, groaning in appreciation at the excess.

Lifting his hand, his gaze locked with hers, he lowered it again, patting the tender flesh with a quick little flick of his fingers.

Prickling heat raced over the folds of her pussy. Her clit pulsed in shocking pleasure and throbbed in hunger.

“You like that,” he growled, the sound low, harsh as his expression tightened further in lust. “Let’s see how you like this.”

His hand lowered again, the light tap sending heat racing across her flesh as her hips jerked at the sensation.

She couldn’t bear this. Her clit was throbbing so hard, was so swollen, she swore she could feel air brush against it.

Another tap of his fingers and she cried out, her legs falling open farther, the need for more, for the rising clash of sensations, overwhelming her.

“Do you like it, baby?” he demanded relentlessly. “Tell me to stop.”

“No!” The whimpering denial fell from her lips unbidden. “Oh god, Graham, please . . .”

Her hips lifted again as though pleading for more.

The next tap was heavier, sending a flush of licking flames to surround her clit and tighten around it in impending climax.

Graham’s low, harsh chuckle had her breath catching as she forced her eyes to open, forced herself to stare back at him, anticipation clawing at her senses.

“Oh, I’m not letting you off that easy,” he promised her. “You’re not coming yet, sweetheart. As much as I’d love to watch your orgasm consume you. Not quite yet.”

Panting for breath, Lyrica could see the determination in his eyes, in the hard lines of his face.

“Making me wait to come won’t change anything,” she retorted, though weakly.

It might have had more effect if it hadn’t sounded like a moaning plea.

“We’ll just have to see about that,” he stated, too confident, too dominant. “Want to make a bet on it, baby?”

She wasn’t betting on anything at the moment. She stared back at him silently instead, licking her dry lips nervously as his eyes narrowed on the action.

Cupping her pussy once again, one finger eased between the folds as her hips lifted to him once again. His touch slid through the heavy slickness there until it found the entrance to her vagina.

“Pull your top up.” The order came as his finger found and rubbed at the clenched entrance of her pussy. “Show me your breasts or I’ll rip the bra off next.”

A deep, heavy spasm of pleasure rippled through her womb at the threat.

Hands shaking, she pulled the snug cotton up her torso, revealing the lace-covered curves he wanted to see before pulling it over her head and tossing the material away. Her breathing grew heavier, her heart beating faster as she released the front catch of her bra, almost panting as she struggled to pull the straps over her arms and remove it as well.

Her breasts were swollen, her nipples so hard, so aroused, they ached. After tossing the bra from the bed, her hands moved to the sensitive mounds, cupping them, moaning at the heavy flush that mounted his cheeks as he watched her.

“That’s it, baby. Let me see you touch your pretty breasts. Show me what you like. What you want.”

Drowsy, wicked sensuality flared inside her. She should be ashamed, but it was a distant thought. So distant that the flush that heated her breasts was one of arousal rather than shame. She would consider the other emotion later, she decided. Much later, after she’d followed the sensations racing through her to their ultimate conclusion.

“Show me, Lyrica. Now.” The order was reinforced by a surge of pleasure she couldn’t have anticipated.

“Oh god! Graham!” Swift, brutal pleasure struck at her as she was suddenly impaled by the hard thrust of his finger. Using the pad of his palm to press against her clit, he nearly sent her tumbling into her release.

“Show me,” he growled, lifting himself closer as that wicked, experienced finger rubbed with destructive sensual strokes deep inside her pussy.

Touch herself. That, she was experienced in.

She’d masturbated enough to thoughts of him that she knew well how to caress her own body, knew the pressure to use, where she was most sensitive.

Finding her nipples with her thumb and forefingers, she didn’t bother with slow, gentle strokes. The hard flares of nearly painful need striking at her senses would pay little attention to gentle anything. She gripped the sensitive buds, rolling them firmly, pulling at the exquisitely heated flesh and whimpering as the slightly rough touch sent lightning forks of painful pleasure to strike at her pussy.

Now, this she hadn’t known. Just how much better that pinching pleasure at her nipples could make the penetration of her vagina.

Twisting beneath the rubbing caress inside the clenching tissue as she worked her nipples with quick little tugs and rolls of her fingers, she thought she’d go crazy from the sensations. Rapture nudged at her clit, the need to orgasm burning through her senses even as the need to prolong the deepening pleasure battled side by side with it.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he crooned, the dark sexuality of his voice spurring her pleasure. “Work those pretty nipples. Show me how you want them pleasured while they’re in my mouth.”

Her hips jerked again, twisting in desperation as his finger withdrew. A second later, two returned, broader, hotter, penetrating her with such striking sensations that her body bowed as the rippling spasms of near orgasm shuddered through her.

“Ah, like that, do you, sweetheart? Do you like this?” His fingers twisted, scissored inside her, creating a friction and a pressure that had her fighting to breathe as the fiery lashes of impending ecstasy tore through her.

She twisted, her hips thrusting against him, her head pressing into the mattress, grinding into it as she fought for that one just-right sensation that would trigger her release. Her need for it was a pulsing, burning blaze, growing out of control as it washed through her senses.

“That’s good, baby.” His voice was rougher now, darker. “Let’s see if you like this.”

She was only barely aware of him moving until the rubbing strokes inside her pussy eased.

“Don’t stop.” She couldn’t bear it. “Oh god, Graham, please don’t stop.”

Slowly, the pressure returned, stroking, rubbing, barely moving inside her yet creating a firestorm that blazed through her senses.

It was so good.

It was electric. The pleasure was so intense it bordered pain and she only craved more.

She was begging for more. Thighs spread, her feet dug into the mattress as her fingers roughened her nipples with desperate need. She could feel the perspiration dewing her flesh, feel the slick juices ease past his fingers to spill from the clenched depths of her sex, as fiery sensation erupted over and over again within the sensitive tissue, yet the striking overload of pleasure was never enough to send her into release.

“That’s it, lift that sweet pussy to me,” he crooned as her hips lifted again.

His fingers withdrew.

A desperate cry was tearing from her lips as his fingers impaled her once again just as his lips surrounded the pounding, engorged bud of her clit.

“Graham, it’s so good. So good.” She was panting, fighting for breath as the sensation whipping through her body increased. If it was a firestorm before, it was a conflagration now. Burning, melting through her, building with rapacious intensity.

Flickering strokes of his tongue tormented her clit as it caressed around it, over it. Then it would pause, and rub, just rub, as the fingers buried inside her were rubbing, at the side of the painfully sensitive flesh before resuming the torturous flickering strokes once again.