Eleven
Libby
Our first trip to the bookstore was phenomenal. It had this old-world charm to it, and we ended up spending almost two hours there. Every book I touched Graham was determined to buy for me, despite my protests. My shelves were quickly filling with romance novels and fantastical love stories between people I lost myself in. He whisked me away to things I’d never experienced. Restaurant I’d never eat in on my own dime and symphonic concerts that took my breath away. But they always ended the same.
They always ended with that beautiful bookstore.
We went so frequently that the owner knew us by name. And every single time I walked in, I made a beeline for the romance department. I wanted to know if they had gotten anything new in or had any rare copies of things I could take a look at. Chairs peppered the dark corners of the bookstore with lamps to illuminate their spots. Graham would always pull up a chair next to me and bring my feet to rest in his lap, then stick his nose in a biography while I began my new love journey. They were my favorite moments with him. When the two of us were reading in that dark little corner by lamplight with my feet in his lap. It felt natural and comfortable to be with him like this. His tie would be loosened and his coat would be draped over the back of the chair. His sleeves would be uncuffed and rolled up, giving me a good look at the throbbing veins and the strength of his muscles.
“Good book?” Graham asked.
I didn’t know I was chewing on my lower lip until he caught my attention.
“Sorry,” I said breathlessly. “Yes. Very good book.”
“Your cheeks look a little flushed,” he said.
I gritted my teeth as a grin spread across his face.
“Let me get it for you,” he said. “You seem… very into it.”
“I can buy my own books, you know.”
“You don’t buy anything with me. Have you not learned that by now?” he asked.
“I didn’t realize I was being trained.”
“Not trained. Simply educated,” he said with a smirk. “Come on. Hand me the book.”
Removing my feet from his lap, I held the novel out for him. The two of us made our way for the register, purchasing the books we held in our grasp. He escorted me to his car and took me home, pulling up to my sorry excuse for an apartment.
“Can I walk you up?” Graham asked.
“You don’t have to ask every time,” I said. “You can just do it.”
His hand pressed into the small of my back as he led me up the stairs. I could feel the heat of his touch radiating through my dress. My hand was shaking as I tried to stick my key in the lock, and his hand came down around mine to steady my grasp.
“Here. Let me help,” he said.
He turned my hand, unlocking my apartment as we pulled the key back. The tension was growing thick between us as I looked up into his eyes. They were darkening. Just like they had at the wedding that weekend. I grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open, then felt a surge of confidence crash through my veins.
I wrapped my hand up in his loosened tie, backed into my apartment, and tugged him quickly inside.
He shut my front door with my back, slamming me against it. Our lips crashed together as our teeth clattered with the heat of our kiss. My hands clawed at his clothes, trying to rid them from his body as he slid my dress of my shoulders. It pooled into a pathetic pile on the floor, his hands palming my clothed tits.
I walked him backwards, straight into my room. Clothes were falling everywhere, lining a trail from the front door to the foot of my bed. His hands grasped my ass and lifted me off the floor, then he tossed me onto the bed as my body fell to the mattress.
He pounced on me, his lips attaching to my neck. I could feel his thick cock throbbing against my thigh, dripping and coating my skin with his precum. My hands tangled in his hair as he moved steadily downwards, kissing and suckling at my breasts. I moaned and rolled my body into him. My heels were propped themselves up onto the edge of the bed. He slid between my legs, his eyes fluttering up to me as he hovered over my dripping pussy.
“Look at me, Libby.”
I rose my head from the bed and eyed him carefully. I watched his tongue dart out, lapping up my slit as my legs jumped. His hands pressed against my legs, spreading me farther apart for him as he blew a stream of cold air onto my clit.
I groaned as my body shook in his wake.
His tongue worked me expertly as my legs wrapped around his head. My hands found the tendrils of his hair, pulling him closer into my body. I ground down into his lips, feeling him moan and groan as my pants turned to whimpers. The electricity shooting through my body was too much, and yet it still wasn’t enough. I felt that fiery sensation burning in my gut. Deep in the pit of my stomach as my fingernails scraped at his scalp.
My back arched from the mattress, bowing like a tightened violin as I came.
“Graham! Yes! I… oh… it feels… yes. Yes. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. More. I need more.”
He hummed into my pussy, my toes curling at the sensation. I dropped to the mattress and felt him release my clit, his tongue lapping me up one last time. I felt his wet kisses trailing up my body as his eyes came into view, and the rational side of me fell to the wayside. I wrapped my hand around his head and pulled him down to me, licking my juices off his lips as he captured my bottom lip.
Effortlessly, he guided himself into my pussy. His hands planted into the bed as our tongues battled for dominance. He rolled deeply, pulsing against my walls and pulling moans from deep within my body. I couldn't get enough of him. I couldn’t get him close enough for my liking.
“Graham,” I said with a whisper. “Faster. Please go faster.”
He sped up his movements as my eyes fluttered open. I saw the way his face was scrunched in pleasure. I took in the way he bit down onto his lower lip. I ran my toes up the backs of his legs, feeling goosebumps trail my every movement. My tits were bouncing as our hips slammed together. The sound of his cock diving between my legs filled my bedroom with the sound of our passion. I kept breathing him in, my lips peppering his strong shoulders with kisses.
I couldn't stop touching him. I couldn't stop running my fingertips along the peaks and valleys of his muscles.
Faster and faster he went, thrusting my body up the mattress. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper into me as my pussy began to flutter. It was happening again. I could feel it. Stars were bursting in my vision as my body quickly gave way to him again. I could feel his movements stuttering. I could feel his cock thickening inside my body. His hands found mine and our fingers intertwined before he pinned them above my head.
“So. Fucking. Beautiful.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks. I arched into him and called out his name, filling the room with my sounds as I came around his cock. He buried himself into me one last time, relinquishing himself to the passion that was overcoming him. His lips captured mine as he groaned, his cock spilling deep into my body. I could feel him pumping. I could feel his threads of cum coating my walls. I could feel the way he was squeezing my hands and the way his tongue couldn’t drink up enough of me.
I wasn’t ready for the moment to end.
I wasn’t ready to give him up yet.
He collapsed on top of me, cloaking my body with his sweating strength. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, feeling him panting into the crook of my neck. Kiss after kiss I placed against his skin, running my fingertips up and down his back.
Then he slid from between my legs and I closed my eyes as our juices dripped from my body.