GRAHAM’S TONGUE DARTS OUT, SKIMMING his bottom lip. He’s pinning me against the loveseat with a hand on either side of my face. “You drive me crazy,” he says, narrowing his eyes. “I try so hard to be on my best behavior around you and you just whittle me down. Every fucking time.”

“Well,” I tease, wrapping my legs around his waist. “I think your ‘best behavior’ is subjective.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And you know what I mean.”

My heels locked at his back, I squeeze my thighs around his waist and pull him closer to me. His lips hover over mine but they don’t touch.

“What exactly do you mean, Mallory?”

I wind my fingers in his hair and tug gently. “I mean this is the Graham I like best. I like seeing you like this.”

“Struggling to keep myself together?”

“Exactly.” Lifting my head, I flick my tongue against his lips. I can feel the heat of his mouth, the taste of his desire. “Don’t try so hard,” I whisper.

“It’s futile anyway,” he says. I barely hear the words as he pulls back. “Stand up.” He climbs off the loveseat, stripping off his shirt. “Now.”

My stomach clenching at the intensity in his eyes, I’m on my feet before I realize I’ve moved.

“Take your dress off. Everything. I want you completely naked.”

The air brushes against my skin as the linen covering my body pools at my feet. As I step out, I watch Graham and almost gasp.

He’s standing in front of me, his cock in his hand, watching my every move. “Bra. Off.”

With a shaky hand, I unclasp the back and throw it at him. He catches it and presses it to his face.

“Now what?” I stand before him, not a thing on my skin. My hair drapes around my shoulders, and despite the fact I’m standing completely naked outside under the watchful eye of this sexy CEO, I don’t feel a bit nervous. Just . . . admired. That feels better than any orgasm, any accomplishment, any nice words ever spoken to me.

Graham sits again, his legs spread. He’s in complete control, managing the situation not with words or power, but with his eyes. That’s all it takes. He strokes his cock up and down, all the while not breaking eye contact with me. The flames of the fire dance beside us, the heat tickling my chilled skin.

“Come here,” he instructs.

I take the few steps to him, but before he can say anything more, I drop to my knees.

“Mallory . . .”

Gripping his cock at the base, I look him dead in the eye and flick my tongue against the head. His chin lifts, the muscles in his neck flexing as I stroke his length, letting my tongue trail down his shaft.

He clutches the armrest, his arms tensing and giving me some serious arm porn. I can feel the knot in my core igniting faster than I can attempt to control it, burning hotter with every minute.

I pull his swollen head into my mouth, sucking it like a lollipop. He growls, lifting his hips in reaction. I take him as deep as I can, then pull him out to the tip, flicking it with my tongue.

“Fuck, Mallory.”

Taking his balls in my other hand, I squeeze them just enough to let him know I have them. As I pump him into my mouth, I feel him harden even more as my hand slides up and down him. He’s so thick I can barely get my entire hand around him.

Although my body screams for attention, my clit pulses between my legs, watching him react to me is worth the torture. His eyes squeezed shut, his frame trembling under my control, is unbelievable.

Just as I find the tempo I know will have him losing control, he reaches forward and takes my face in his hands. He guides me away, his cock making a popping sound as it releases from my mouth.

Falling back on my heels, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Why did you stop me?” I ask, catching my breath.

“I’m not getting off in your mouth. Stand up.”

As I get to my feet, he rustles in his pants behind me. I hear the tear of a package. When I turn around, I see him rolling a condom down himself. I flash him a confused look because we didn’t use one last time. “I always use a rubber,” he says. “You caught me off guard last time.”

He tosses the wrapper on the coffee table. “Now bend over the love seat. I want your ass up in the air.”

Climbing up, I rest my arms over the back of the loveseat. The wicker bites into my arms. Widening my knees and tilting my hips up, I feel the chill of the air on my heated pussy.

Looking behind me, I see Graham standing a few inches away.

“I could look at this all day every day.” He puts a hand on the globe of my ass. “This is perfect.” He smacks it lightly, just enough to sting. When I yelp, he laughs. “Just a warning, sometimes people are out on the golf course at night walking their dogs. They can’t see us—that I promise. But they can hear us. You might want to keep it down.” He snickers, getting behind me and wrapping an arm around my front. One finger touches my clit and I gasp. “Or not.”

His cock slides into me in one swift thrust.

“Oh my God!” I bend forward again, my hands winding over the wicker. My hair all falling to one side, I lean back against him. He pulls almost completely out and then pushes all the way inside me again. “Fuck, Graham. Do that again.”

He does. Once. Twice. Three times. By the fourth time, I’ve moved my hips so the tip of his cock hits my G-spot perfectly. He’s so damn hard, so solid, that every penetration is almost an action itself.

One hand digs into my hip. The other reaches around me, applying pressure to my throbbing clit.

“My God,” I groan through clenched teeth.

“What do you want, Mallory? Do you like this?” He pushes into me harder. “Is that what you want, baby? You want me to fuck you so hard you can’t think of anything else?”

My breasts bounce, my head dipped, as I push back on him. He growls behind me, the intensity of his thrusts coupled with the expertise of his fingers, is sensation overload.

“Ah,” I cry, leaning back. Working my knees farther apart so he can go even deeper, I think it can’t get any more intense. Until he works one hand to my nipple and presses it roughly between his fingers. “This. Is. Amazing.”

The words are almost incoherent. Even I can barely hear them over the sound of our bodies and the white noise bounding through my ears. But I do hear the voice from somewhere past the pines.

“Is that you, Landry?” A male’s voice projects from the area on the other side of the tree line where the golf course is.

“Ah,” I gasp, covering my breasts with my arm. Graham pushes it away with a chuckle, not breaking stride.

“Don’t,” he whispers against my ear, picking up his pace. “Is that you, Paul?”

“Yeah. How are ya?”

He wraps an arm around my front and pulls me up so that my back is against his chest. He leans us both forward just enough to perfect the angle.

My nipples harden as the air tickles them and the exhilaration of the man’s voice sounds again. I can’t see him, but he sounds close and I wonder if he can see me. Graham doesn’t seem to care, just continues to drive himself into my body and bring me closer to the peak.

“I’m good,” Graham says, his voice so controlled you’d never know what he was doing. “How are you?”

I don’t hear the response. My body bounces on Graham’s cock, his hands roaming my body, demanding contact. I wrap my arms up and around his neck and arch my back, needing the release that is so close I can taste it.

His lips find the crook of my neck and he kisses me, nibbling the soft skin behind my ear. That does it.

“Graham,” I mutter, cradling my breasts with one arm. “I can’t stop this . . .”

“Let go, baby,” he whispers. He drives into me, hitting the spot I love like he’s done this a million times. I hear his voice calling goodbye to his neighbor while my world spins wildly out of control.

“Shit!” I cry, biting my lip to keep from calling out too loud. My body tenses around his cock, squeezing it as I feel my body shake. My knees go weak, threatening to collapse. Graham’s arm winds around my waist and holds me up, his fingertips searing into my skin. “Oh. My. God.”

Trembling as the orgasm hits me in full force, I feel his lips against my neck. “Damn it, Mallory,” he groans. Fuck!” He shudders against my back, his cock pulsing as he finds his mark. There’s no way to see his face and I hate that I can’t watch him, see what I do to him.

As I struggle to catch my breath, I feel a single, light kiss press against the skin right behind my ear. “You good?” he whispers.

“Yes,” I breathe, getting my wits about me. The air seems colder now, my body so much more exposed.

Without even seeing my expression, he seems to know what I need. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

He scoops up our clothes, takes my hand, and leads me in the back door.