Smolder (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, #29)(52)
I kissed Graham’s bare chest carefully, leaving a perfect imprint of my red lips on his skin. He sighed again, and Jean-Claude kissed the side of his neck, oh so gently. Graham’s eyes fluttered closed, and I felt the effort in his body not to shudder again. I couldn’t help myself; I flicked my tongue across his nipple, and he cried out. I kept his shirt bunched up underneath his shoulders, as Jean-Claude stood over us both. There was a moment when the leather of his boots prevented him from touching Graham’s back, and the power contracted again, until he touched Graham’s hair, and then the power flexed outward again.
Loud enough for the crowd to hear he said, “It is time he lost his shirt, is it not?”
“Yes! Take it off! Take it off!” The crowd chanted it as Jean-Claude reached over Graham to touch my hands where they held the shirt in place. He placed his hands over mine and it felt amazing to touch each other directly, as if hands meant so much more than normal. I gazed up into his cobalt-blue eyes and I knew what he wanted me to do. He slid his fingers underneath the cloth and lifted as I leaned in to lick the other nipple. Graham’s arms went up without being asked, and Jean-Claude stripped the shirt off him to fling it into the crowd. I rose up from his chest to find Graham’s face inches from mine, his brown eyes wild with need. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss him. It was gentle and he did not kiss me back but stayed still under my touch as if he was afraid to move, afraid I’d stop if he was too eager. I traced my hands on either side of his face and whispered,
“Kiss me.”
Jean-Claude stood above us stroking Graham’s hair and called out to the crowd, “Has our good wolf earned a better kiss than that?” The crowd roared its approval. The chant became “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”
I kept my hands on either side of Graham’s face as I tilted my head up toward him. He made a small eager sound and then he bent over me, and our lips met. He made a soft sound against my mouth, and then he kissed me. He wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off my knees so that I had to wrap my arms around his bare shoulders to help hold me in his embrace as we explored each other with lips and tongues, he was so eager. He’d wanted permission to touch me for so long. It was as if his eagerness was contagious, so that when his arm tightened around my back and his other hand slid downward to touch my ass I didn’t say no. We weren’t getting out of our clothes, Jean-Claude was right there, we were onstage, and I suddenly felt safe, in control of the uncontrollable. I wrapped my legs around Graham’s waist too high for anything serious, but I’d forgotten how short the dress and how small the thong, and suddenly his hands were on my bare ass, holding me in place as if I needed
the help to stay in place around his body, but tentatively as if he wasn’t sure it was okay. I had a moment of thinking Either grab my ass or let me go. Jean-Claude knew what I was thinking, feeling, so he said, “Grab her ass like you mean it!” He called it out to the crowd, and they shrieked their eagerness. Graham tried to hesitate, but I kissed him harder, using just a touch of teeth against his lips, and he grabbed my ass so hard and sudden that it was my turn to make a small, surprised sound. I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck and he took that as the invitation it was to move his other hand down to dig his fingers into my ass, but my extra arm movement had raised the short skirt up so that he touched bare skin where the thong didn’t cover.
He froze for a moment, breaking away from the kiss, searching my face for outrage, for a no. I said, “This may be the only chance you get, I’d take advantage of it if I were you.”
He finally allowed himself the eager smile he’d been trying to hide, because he was afraid I’d back off, but not tonight. I smiled at him, willing him to be as eager as we needed him to be. He stared straight into my eyes from inches away and filled his hands with my bare ass, cupping and caressing, so that I wound my legs around his waist, pressing the front of me in the thong against the front of him in his jeans, and found him as hard and eager as I could have wanted. Jean-Claude had moved out of the way of my spiky heels, because he’d known exactly what I was going to do. He kept his hand on Graham’s shoulder as he moved to the side of us. Graham’s hands convulsed, digging his fingers into my ass, pressing me tighter against that hard center inside his pants. The suddenness and the force of it made me cry out and wrap my legs tighter around his waist, driving myself tighter against him. He shuddered, closing his eyes, shoulders bowing as he fought to control what he wanted to do next.
“Do it.” I whispered it against his face.
“I want to fuck you.”
“No,” Jean-Claude and I said together.
“Then what?” he asked, and he sounded wild, trapped and too eager to think clearly.
I knew exactly what I wanted. “Grind me into the stage.”
“Won’t that hurt you?” That he thought to ask when his body wanted me so badly gained him points.
“I want to feel you on top of me, Graham, pushing that hard, solid piece of you against me.”
He didn’t ask again, just straightened his knees and took us to the ground with my legs wrapped around his waist and the dress up around mine, the thin thong all that was between me and the roughness of his jeans. In the right head space, I like the sensation, and I was in that head space. I let go of his shoulders so he could raise himself up above like he was trying to do a push-up with me in the way. It pressed him tighter against me and I loved it. The crowd’s screams seemed distant as I stared up into his face above me. I stared down the bare length of his chest to his waist still safely in his pants. Jean-Claude leaned over me to whisper into Graham’s ear, and just seeing them both above me sped my pulse and made me want more.