“Are you serious? Are you fucking serious right now? You attacked me and you want me to go away?”
My grip on Graham’s wrists increases and I look at him fearfully. It was a bad thing that Graham did for me. Bad and potentially problem-inducing and I can’t bear the thought that because of me he could be in trouble.
And not only that, Graham is touching me in front of him. It could be dangerous, right? He could even get fired because Richard knows about the scandal. Richard knows what happened back in Connecticut and I’m pretty sure he might’ve put two and two together by now. He could take away my Graham’s job. He could, because Graham attacked him and there’s this girl here, from Graham’s past, because of whom he left his old job.
But Graham shakes his head once, at me. As if he could read my anxious thoughts. He even jerks me closer to him, making me go flush against his hard and heated body.
Like some kind of a claiming, in front of another man. In front of the world. Like he doesn’t care if there could be problems.
And it gets my heart racing.
Racing, racing, racing.
“Stop,” he murmurs to me. To Richard, he growls, “Richard, go away, all right? We’ll talk later.”
My heart is racing so much that I take a step even closer. I go up on his boots and I smell him. I tuck my nose in the triangle of his throat and hide my face, dragging his scent into my lungs. And he completes his claiming of me by wrapping his arms around my trembling body.
Oh God.
He’s picking me over everything.
Me.
“Jesus Christ,” Richard snaps, moving around now; I can hear the muck crushing under his boots. “What the fuck are you doing, man? What’s going on? She’s the girl from Connecticut, isn’t she? Is she even… fuck. Is she even legal? Do you know how much trouble you could get in, shacking up with a teenage girl like this?”
My heart jumps up to my throat and I fist his shirt. I even think of moving away from Graham’s body and screaming at Richard. Screaming that I am, in fact, legal. I’m eighteen. Graham isn’t doing anything against the law.
But he doesn’t let me move.
He plasters me to his body, tightens his hold. He splays his palms over my back and moves them in circles, as if soothing me.
I feel him turning his head to look at Richard. “She’s none of your concern, all right? Just leave. I’m asking you to leave. She’s scared, okay? Just leave before I do something to you for making her that way.”
The vibrations of his possessive words reach through his chest into mine and almost touch my fearful heart, soothing my heartbeats.
There’s silence after that.
I’m not sure what Richard is thinking or what’s going to happen but I have my eyes closed and I’m hiding away in Graham’s arms.
But for the first time in almost a year, I don’t wanna hide.
I don’t wanna close my eyes and hide my face or wear a cap or sunglasses. In fact, this is the first time I’ve ever felt that it’s okay if the world sees me.
It’s okay if the world sees me or judges me or finds me lacking because who the fuck cares what they think?
Right?
Who. The fuck. Cares?
Who cares if they think I’m not pretty or not special or not worthy of love or whatever?
I think that I’m pretty. I think that I’m special. I think that I’m worthy.
Because of him. He’s been telling me this and in this moment, I completely believe him. So much so that even my anxiety can’t sway me.
This man who has his arms around me and who’s choosing to put everything at risk for me.
“This isn’t over,” Richard says.
Richard’s threatening words fill me with so much strength that even Graham’s arms can’t hold me back. Nothing can hold me or this bright burst of courage and I break our hug. I lean over to look at the angry figure that is Richard.
He’s in the process of walking over to the driveway and I stop him. “He’s not doing anything wrong. I’m eighteen. I want to be here. I want to be with him. And it’s not his fault. Whatever he did. P-people scare me. He –”
Graham fists my hair then. He swallows up whatever I was going to say and forces me to look back at him. “You’re not explaining yourself to anyone. You’re never explaining, understand? You don’t have to.”
I’m panting even though I haven’t said much. It’s not from what I’ve said though. My breathlessness is from what I was going to say.
Only now that I’m staring back at Graham do I realize that I was going to say: he doesn’t know.
That’s what I was going to say. That Graham doesn’t know what I have. He doesn’t know that I’ve got an illness.
I was going to confess and he stopped me from it.
I should be relieved, I know. Strangely, I’m not. I’m restless and I don’t understand.
He not only stopped me but right now, he’s cupping my cheek. His palm cradles it and his fingers reach up to my hair. Again, he addresses Richard, without looking at him. “Richard. Leave. Now.”
I hear Richard scoff but after that I tune him out. I don’t care if he leaves.
I don’t care if he stays to watch.
To watch me kiss Graham. To watch me claim my man, like my man claimed me.
In fact, I want Richard to watch. I want the whole world to watch when I pick him. When I pick my Graham.
I hike up my thigh until Graham gets the message and he heaves me up in his arms.
I wind my legs around his waist and put my mouth on him.
Not only that, I moan too.
I moan into the kiss that Graham returns with equal fervor. He splays his hand on the back of my head and practically presses my lips on his.
I let him do that and devour my mouth while I open my eyes.
I open them and look directly into the eyes of a stranger in almost a year. I look directly at Richard, who hasn’t gone anywhere.
Maybe he was going to but our sudden actions stopped him, Graham’s and mine. And now, he’s watching us with a frown.
But again, I don’t care – I want him to watch – and neither does Graham.
I feel so rebellious in this moment, so wild. So unlike my anxious, shy self.
We kiss and kiss while I’m looking Richard in the eyes, while I’m telling him that my man – my honey – makes it good for me.
He makes it so good, so fucking fantastic that I can’t stop moaning. I can’t stop writhing in his lap. I can’t stop humping his stomach. I can’t stop my pussy from going wet and steamy for him and I’m not even wearing panties. I’m probably smearing my wetness all over his shirt, making it messy.
Most of all I can’t stop acting like a slut.
I’m his slut, I tell Richard.
Who shakes his head like he’s so disgusted by it but his eyes are wide and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and I know that he’s not.
He feels it too.
What we feel, Graham and me. This overwhelming need. This craving.
This thing that’s always been between us, right from the beginning. Right from that first look.
The thing that made us outcasts and ashamed and crazy. Maybe even criminals.
But we don’t care because we’re not doing anything wrong. We never did.
Finally, Richard realizes what he’s doing and gets moving.
He unglues his eyes and his feet and turns around and stalks out of there.
I break the kiss, then.
I pant into Graham’s mouth, “I wanna suck your cock.”
I want to.
I want to tell him what this means to me. What his support and protection, his claiming means to me. What it means to have no anxious thoughts in my head even for a few moments.
It means that I want to love him. I want to care for him. I want to make him feel special and I know he loves fucking my mouth.
He loves it when I take him in and suck on his crown like candy.
In fact, he goes crazy when I do that.
He changes.
He becomes a beast and I want that. I want to change him like he just transformed me. From a shy and anxious girl to this person who looked into a stranger’s eyes and kissed the man she loved.
I claimed him. I stood up for him and this thing between us when I thought I’d never be able to, not ever.
I didn’t let my anxiety win for once and I want to love him for that.
“Please, honey.”
If I thought my words would shock him, then I would be wrong.
They don’t shock him at all.
In fact, he watches me with hooded but knowing eyes. “Having him watch made you hot, huh?”
I blush.
Even though I was the one who started it and I’m the one who wants to keep going.
“Yeah. M-maybe. I just… I just want you in my mouth. Please.”
So I can love him.
I even squirm in his lap. I wiggle and wriggle until I feel it. I feel his cock in the crease of my ass, all hard and thick.
It makes him thrust his hips, jerk off his shaft against my butt. But he doesn’t give in. Not yet.
He presses his forehead to mine and rasps, “You okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You were scared.”
I was. I was until he came along and saved me so epically. Both from Richard and from my thoughts.
“I’m not now.”
I’m so not. Not in this moment.
In this moment, I’m just horny and thankful.
He searches my face. “You sure?”
I fist his hair and rock against him like I can’t contain this need inside of me. To be on my knees right now. To take him in my mouth, to taste him, to smell him.
God, I want him all over me.
“I am. You made it okay. You saved me. You put yourself at risk for me.” That gives me a pause and my anxiety creeps back in. “D-do you think my saying stuff to him and kissing you made things worse? I was just trying to –”
He scoffs, cutting my words off. “I told you. You’re not explaining yourself to anyone.”
“But… will he fire you now?”
Maybe my standing up for him did him exactly zero favors. Maybe my claiming could be his downfall.
He presses our foreheads together. “He’s not going to fire me. And even if he did, it doesn’t matter. There are a million jobs out there, okay? It’s not a big deal.”
“B-but, I –”
“Shh.” He shushes me against my lips. “Look at me, you’re not thinking about it. You’re not fucking wasting your time, thinking about it.”
I swallow and with it, I try to swallow down my fears and anxieties and every bad thought in my head.
And again, they go away for the moment and my desire for him, my love for him comes back to the surface.
“Okay. Okay.” I breathe in deep. “I won’t.”
“Good.”
I shift in his arms, rubbing up against his hard cock again, making it jerk. “I wanna suck it.”
He shakes his head at me, his lips stretching into this sexy smile of his. “Right here?”
“Uh-uh. By the roses. Where we danced last night.”
We did.
We danced in the moonlight. After he woke me up with the slide of his cock inside me, I asked him, Have you ever danced in the moonlight, Mr. Edwards?
When he said no, I brought him out here.
I brought him out by the roses – we have a lot of them now, pink and red and lemony yellow with pale pink edges. I put on my kickass playlist, got on his feet and we danced.
He appeared a little unsure and a little awed at first. And it felt like my heart would strangle itself for him, for all the things he’d never done in his life before.
Before me.
So we danced and danced until that unsure look of his went away and he kissed me, before he brought me back in and fucked me once more.
He chuckles now. “Out there? In broad daylight where anyone can see you.”
I know he’s smiling but there’s this dangerous current in his eyes that tells me he wants it just as much as me. He’s greedy for it as much as me.
I’m not sure what it is, this need in me. Maybe I’m still riding the high after what I did in front of Richard.
But I think it’s more than that. It’s a wildness in me. This recklessness that I’ve never felt before. Not even on my eighteenth birthday when I kissed him. On that night, I thought no one would see us and so I could do it, steal a kiss like I stole his roses.
But this is different. This is something completely new and originating from somewhere deep inside of me.
Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at the discovery, though.
He changes me, doesn’t he? He takes away my shyness and calms down my anxious thoughts. And I change him. I make him bad and turn him into an animal.
So maybe this wildness was always there in me, waiting for him, my beast. Just like his beast was waiting for me, his beauty.
Rocking against his cock that seems to be lurching now, throbbing against the crease of my ass, I whisper, “Yeah. Here. Where anyone can see me. Where anyone can walk in on me and you know what?”
He narrows his lust-filled eyes, his hands going down to my ass and grabbing it. He covers one tight cheek with his big fingers and squeezes. Hard.
“What?” he clips, his voice all tight and rough with desire.
He’s changing too, now. Becoming the beast for me already, his pupils blowing up, his breathing getting heavy, his chest expanding.
“I’ll still keep you in my mouth. I’ll still keep sucking you in the way that you like. The way you taught me. The way where I lick you all over before going back for the crown and sucking on it. Like I was born to suck it. Like all those years while I was sucking on my lollipops, I was just getting a lot of practice so I could suck you when the time came. And I’ll keep doing it until you come. Until you spurt in my mouth, or on my face, or on my tits that you love so much. Or…”
He parts my cheeks with such force, God. I can feel the heat of it all over my body. The stretch of it, the amazing sting.
I can feel the heat of his lust in the way he’s handling me. Parting my pussy and that dark hole of my ass with his hands and rubbing his cock there, rubbing it right up the crease of my stretched out ass.
“Or?”
“Or you can decorate me. You can decorate your baby. You can come on her throat and you can give her a pearl necklace like you did the other day.”
He did. We were in the bathroom and I was sucking him off in the shower, and he came all over me in spurts.
At this, his chest shudders. It shakes and he clamps his jaw.
He’s become so tight and rigid that I think he’ll never move. He’ll never come unstuck, but he does. He walks up to the roses. They cover a lot of ground now, edged by the trees in his backyard.
When we reach our makeshift garden, he manages to growl, “Get my cock out.”
And I scramble to do it.
Clumsily, I get down on my feet and keep going. I keep going down until I’m squatting and my hands fumble with the zipper of his jeans.
By now, I’m pretty used to it, to opening it and getting his cock out, and I do it today as well.
I manage to unzip him and unbutton him and shove his jeans down just enough to free him in a matter of seconds, and then his shaft is out, all big and bad and horny.
I take his pre-cum-soaked head into my mouth and give him his first suck of the day. I moan as his taste hits me like a shot of whiskey or rum that I drank on the night I first kissed him. It goes down my throat like honey, thick and smooth.
My honey’s honey.
That just makes me go insane, that thought, and I hollow out my cheeks as I vacuum him in. I wrap both my hands at his base be
cause I know one hand won’t cut it. I’ve tried. My Graham is huge. He needs both hands to cover him.
He needs them so I can jack him off as I pull at his crown with my mouth. I pull at it so much that Graham groans.
He throws his head back and he grunts up to the sky.
He never makes a sound when we’re having sex.
Oh, he talks to me and makes me insane with his filth but he only lets out an occasional groan or a grunt while he’s inside me and pleasure is really choking him.
But he makes noises when I suck his cock. It’s like he can’t control himself. The Beast is at my mercy.
Even so, he’s an animal and he’ll grab and grope. Like he’s doing right now.
He has his fist in my hair and his feet planted wide. He’s jerking. Not a lot but I know it’s coming. I know a time will come, when I have him halfway into my mouth and I’ll struggle to get him in more. That’s when he’ll take over.
He’ll put his hand under my widened jaw and the other on my head and he’ll open up my mouth even more. He’ll slide inside, along my tongue that he’ll ask me to stick out so I can lick the underside of his shaft.
And then, he’ll slowly fuck my mouth.
Until I go so horny that I’ll begin to bob my head. That I’ll begin to go up and down and fuck him back.
In a second, that time comes and Graham does all of that. He puts his hand under my jaw and the other on my head, all splayed wide, and he slides in.
He stretches my mouth and I peek my tongue out to lick him, while I twist the root of his shaft with both hands. The hands that have gone completely slippery from the pre-cum of his cock that oozes and drips down like my saliva.
He groans when I do that. When I lick him and twist him at the base.
It’s so guttural and if I didn’t know better, I’d think I’m hurting him. But I’m not. His lust-laden words and the jerks of his hips prove that.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he slurs. “Fucking me so good with your cock-sucking lips… Calling me honey… Driving me crazy…”
I preen at that.
I preen and flush with pride and happiness and possession. He is my honey. I called him that. I claimed him in front of someone like he claimed me.
God, that was amazing. I didn’t know I had it in me to do something like that.
DREAMS of 18 Page 27
