▪️O C T A V I A▪️

My chest rose and fell in shallow breaths while I lay beneath Graham.

I could not help but marvel at the sight before me as his handsome face hovered inches above mine. Graham's expression was intense and focused. His broad shoulders, the way his muscles rippled with every movement, he was everything I had ever imagined, and yet, so much more than I could have ever dreamed.

We were both naked, our bodies exposed to each other in a way I never thought would be possible. But here I was, under him, feeling a wave of warmth spread through me as his gaze dropped to my lips.

I shifted slightly, my hand reaching up to trace the lines of his face, my fingertips grazed over his chin, enjoying the feel of the light dusting of reddish hair which made up a short beard. Graham did not flinch or pull back. He simply closed his eyes at my touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips, as though my hands were doing more than just touching his skin, I realised that they were comforting him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. His lips brushed against my forehead, then my nose, before gently claiming my lips in another heated kiss.

I could feel my heart racing in my chest, the warmth of his touch making everything inside me feel alive. The way he looked at me, so gently and attentively, made me feel as though I was the most important thing in the world to him.

My breath hitched as I pulled back slightly, my face warming with the vulnerability I felt. I opened my mouth, unsure of how to ask, but the words came out anyway, shy and soft.

"Graham, could you touch me?"

It felt strange to ask, to voice the desire I felt for him, but the truth was, I knew what to expect. He had already promised to follow my lead, to do whatever I wanted, and that gave me a sense of reassurance. Still, the shyness lingered, and my heart raced with the vulnerability of asking. But I trusted him completely, and in that trust, I found the courage to speak the words.

"Are you sure?" Graham asked, his voice low and steady.

He was not rushing me, was not pushing me—he was waiting, giving me space. I could feel the weight of his question, the understanding that once we crossed this line, there would be no turning back. He needed to be certain that I was ready, that this was what I truly wanted.

"Yes, I want you to," I answered and he smiled, a tender, reassuring smile that made my chest tighten with affection.

"You're amazing," he murmured, before leaning down to kiss me again, slower this time, as if relishing every moment.

When his hand moved down to gently rest on my waist, I felt a rush of warmth spread through me. Every touch felt like a spark and I squirmed against him as I felt his hands gently explore, his touch sending warmth through me. His lips moved to my neck, and I could not suppress the small gasp that escaped me as his touch sent a shiver down my spine. He pulled away just enough to look at me, his eyes full of tenderness and something deeper, something raw.

"I want to make you feel good," he whispered, his voice husky.

I nodded, unable to speak, too caught up in the sensation of his hands gliding slowly along my sides. His lips trailed lower, brushing across my skin with reverence, each kiss sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through me. I gasped when his mouth reached my collarbone, the feeling new and electric, thrilling in a way that made my pulse stutter.

He paused there, nuzzling gently against my skin before moving lower, his hands framing my breasts like he was memorizing their shape. His thumbs brushed over my hard nipples, and I shivered, surprised by how good that simple touch felt. Graham watched my face carefully, gauging every reaction, as if he wanted to learn everything I liked without me saying a word.

Then his lips followed; soft, slow kisses over the swell of my breast, his tongue flicking gently at the peak before drawing it into the warmth of his mouth. I gasped again, arching toward him, and his arm slipped beneath my back to support me, holding me as if I was something precious.

When he moved to my other breast, giving it the same attention, I let out a quiet moan while tunnelling my hands into his hair while I tilted my head back. He did not rush; he explored, tasted, lingered, as though he was in no hurry to move on, like every part of me was worth appreciating. And with every kiss, every soft pull of his mouth, I felt myself relax further, melting into him.

"Oh Graham..." I moaned.

"That's right, love, enjoy," he said while his mouth moved lower.

He grinned as he pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh—slow, deliberate, reverent. The warmth of his mouth against my skin sent a wave of anticipation curling through me. Then he looked up, and my breath caught.

There was something in his gaze that made my stomach flip, something that made me feel like I was the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment. They were full of heat, yes, but also care, an unspoken promise that he would go at my pace, that I could trust him completely.

It was not just desire I saw there. It was devotion.

"Don't be afraid to be loud," he murmured. "I want to hear every bit of what you're feeling. Let me know what you like."

I swallowed, my breath catching as his lips moved lower again—slow, deliberate, as if every inch of my body was something sacred to be unwrapped. His hands parted my thighs gently, reverently, and I trembled beneath his touch.

Graham looked up at me once more, those stormy eyes locking with mine. He did not speak; he did not need to. The message was clear in his expression: You're safe. I've got you.

Then I felt the first brush of his lips against the crease of my thigh, featherlight but purposeful. My breath hitched. His kisses trailed closer, and closer, until his mouth found the very centre of me. The first touch of his tongue made my hips lift involuntarily, a gasp slipping past my lips before I could stop it.

His movements were slow and exploratory, each flick and swipe across my clit drew out a new sound, a new sensation. I could feel how focused he was, like every reaction I gave was something he was memorizing, collecting, cherishing. His groan vibrated against me, deep and low, as if my response was exactly what he had been waiting for. The sound sent a shiver through me, and I could not help but arch into him more, craving the sensation of his touch, his mouth, everything.

His hand came up to steady me as my body bowed toward him, and when I glanced down, I saw the intensity in his eyes, the way his jaw flexed as he deepened his rhythm.

"Graham..." I whimpered

I did not recognize the sounds coming from my own mouth, soft and unrestrained, and I did not care. I could barely remember where I was, all that existed was the warmth of his mouth, the relentless pull building in my core, and the quiet, reverent way he worshipped me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And in that moment, I believed I was.

When the rush of my orgasm hit moments later, I felt no shame. There was no hesitation, no embarrassment about how quickly he had brought me to that moment. Instead, all I felt was a deep sense of gratitude and awe for how effortlessly he seemed to understand my body, how he knew exactly how to make me feel this way, completely consumed in the pleasure, in the warmth of him while my body shook.

When he lifted his head, his gaze met mine, so full of warmth, so full of everything that we had shared in this moment. I felt like I was floating, weightless, caught somewhere between the earth and the stars, wrapped in something so pure, so real, that it left me breathless.

He smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made my heart skip a beat. "You taste incredible," he rasped before his tongue licked me once more. "I could spend forever savouring you," he continued, his breath warm against my skin. "You're perfect."

I could not help but smile, feeling a flutter of both shyness and excitement at his words. "You make me feel like I am," I whispered, my voice trembling just a little.

"You are," he said softly, almost reverently. "Every inch of you."

Graham then moved up to lay next to me, his presence overwhelming yet comforting as his body settled beside mine. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet rhythm of our breathing, the intimacy of the shared space between us. Then, he leaned down, his lips softly brushing against mine in the most tender of kisses.

As our mouths met, I could taste myself on his lips, a reminder of everything we had just shared. The sensation was unexpectedly intimate and my heart fluttered as I kissed him back, slow and deep, enjoying the way he responded, the way his lips moved against mine with a reverence that made me feel cherished, adored and in that moment, I wanted him to feel it too—feel what he made me feel.

Graham made me feel so loved that the words were at the tip of my tongue.

I wanted him to experience the warmth, the depth, the way my heart raced when he touched me, the overwhelming sense of connection that seemed to wrap around us both. I wanted him to know just how much he meant to me, to show him that every touch, every kiss, had left an imprint on my soul.

"My turn..." I said and slowly moved to shift the dynamic between us.

He caught my gaze and he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, urging me to stop. "You don't have to, Octavia," he said quietly, his voice deep with sincerity. "I didn't do it for anything in return. I want you to feel good, but I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything."

His words washed over me like a soothing balm, making my heart swell. He did not want anything from me, not in that way. It was about giving, about trust, about sharing something real between us. I could see it in the way he looked at me, this was not about a trade, a balance of favours.

Even though his erection stood tall, firm and undeniable, I could feel the restraint in him, the way he was holding back. I knew that Graham was letting me lead, ensuring that I was ready, letting me decide the pace.

His chest rose and fell with each breath, a subtle reminder of his desire, but his eyes remained steady, warm, and patient. He wanted me, yes, but he wanted me, not just my body, and that thought sent a wave of heat rushing through me. For even though his body was clearly responding to our closeness, he was focused on making sure I felt safe. His control was both impressive and deeply arousing.

"I want you to feel good," I whispered, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He smiled softly, his hand brushing against mine, "I feel great, truly. Seeing you like this, knowing I'm the one who made you feel that way, that's enough for me."

His words melted me, but there was a playful spark in me that would not be ignored. I leaned closer, my lips hovering near his ear while my hand moved down to gently grip the base of his shaft, "Well, then, I guess this will be even better."

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he looked at me, "You're dangerous, you know that?"

"Only to those who don't know how to handle me."

"Of that, I have no doubt," he replied, his voice filled with both admiration and anticipation.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the flutter in my chest as I positioned myself lower. My hands were shaking slightly, not out of fear, but from the sheer intensity of the moment. I had never done this before, but I had thought about it many times, wondering what he would taste like. I wanted to give him the same pleasure he had given me, to show him that I could make him feel as cherished as he had made me feel.

I hesitated for just a moment, my gaze flicking to his. His eyes were hooded with eagerness, but there was something else there too—trust, warmth, and a sense of patience. It gave me the confidence I needed.

"Tell me what you like," I whispered.

He smiled, "Just be you, Octavia. That's all I need."

With that reassurance, I leaned down, my breath shaky but determined. I kissed the bulbous head gently first, appreciating the salty taste of him on my lips, the sensation unfamiliar yet somehow comforting. His body tensed beneath me, but the quiet sighs he let out kept me grounded, reminding me that this was safe, that he trusted me just as much as I trusted him.

"Fuck, your lips feel incredible..." Graham groaned, his voice thick with desire.

I opened my mouth carefully, taking him in slowly, feeling the weight of him on my tongue. The initial unfamiliarity made my heart race, but his words of praise made me feel braver, steadier. I moved cautiously at first, feeling him fill my mouth as I adjusted, tasting him fully. The sensation was intense, but each quiet hum of encouragement from him kept me moving forward.

"Just like that, love, you're amazing," he murmured again, his hands gently guiding my hair, giving me control, but also letting me know he was right there with me.

I shifted, finding a rhythm, each movement met with his soft groans, making me more confident. The sounds he made, the way his body seemed to respond to me, made me feel more attuned to him. Wanting to try and take more of him, I angled my mouth and gagged slightly.

"Take your time..." Graham whispered, his voice low and loving. "There's no rush. I'm right here."

I could feel the intensity of his gaze, but he never once pressured me. Instead, his praise kept me moving forward.

My hands continued to explore his body with a mixture of awe and curiosity, as though I were mapping out every inch of him. I could feel the heat of his skin under my fingertips, the way his muscles tensed with every touch. After experimenting a bit, I was able to take him deeper, not all the way that I would have liked but I was becoming more familiar with each slow, deliberate movement.

As I continued, he let out a quiet breath, his hand threading through my hair, urging me on with a gentleness that made me want to give him everything.

The tension in his body built with each movement, each breath becoming shallower as he fought to keep himself under control. His hand moved to gently cupped my chin, guiding me to look up at him, and I felt the heat of his stare sear through me. Every part of my body tensed, a shiver running down my spine as I was held entranced by the intensity of his eyes.

"Octavia..." Graham's voice was thick, trembling at the edges. "I'm—" His words were cut off as a gasp escaped him, his breath hitching in the intensity of the moment

For a brief moment, I thought he might pull away.

His breathing came in shallow, uneven gasps, the kind that trembled with intensity, as if every inhale was a struggle. I could feel the way his chest rose and fell, the rhythm erratic, as though he was fighting to maintain control.

"I'm so close. I won't be able to last much longer," his hand on my chin tightened slightly.

But his touch, though firm enough to keep me close, did not hold me captive. He was giving me the choice to pull away, but of course I did not. I moved with more intention, more certainty, letting him know that I wanted to taste him.

When it happened, it was sudden—a deep, raw release, his body shuddering beneath the weight of it, a low, strangled moan escaping his lips as he uttered my name. The warmth spread across my mouth before I did my best to swallow his release down.

As each wave of heat hit the back of my throat, I felt his body tense, every muscle going tight, before relaxing again, caught in the aftermath of his release. But I did not stop. Even after he was done, I continued, gently moving in rhythm with him, making sure every last trace of him was gone.

He let out a soft grunt, his hand gently cupping the back of my head, guiding me through the slow rhythm. The intimate sound of his breathing filled the air, deep and laboured, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. I could feel the vulnerability in him, the way he surrendered to me completely, and it only made me more determined to savour this moment with him, to make him feel as cherished as he had made me feel.

After a few moments, his hand trembled as he cupped my face, pulling me gently away, his chest rising and falling in quick succession as he tried to catch his breath. I moved up to lay next to him, my forehead resting against his, letting the quiet stillness settle around us, feeling his heart race in the aftershocks.

"You're incredible," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with a raw sincerity, as if he had no words to fully express what he felt.

Before I could respond, his lips found mine, tasting the aftermath of everything we had shared. The kiss was slow, languid, and full of unspoken words. It was a gentle exploration, a reaffirmation of the bond we had just deepened, the connection that was blooming between us. There was no rush now, no need for anything more. The heat of the moment still lingered in the air, but there was something even more powerful in the way our lips moved together, something that went beyond the physical, beyond the touch.

Even though in the back of my mind I thought that we may have had sex tonight, I realised that we did not need to go further. Not yet, anyway.

As our eyes locked, a silent understanding passed between us. I could feel it, Graham knew I was on the edge, that I was ready to go further if he pushed. He could easily take my virginity tonight if he wanted to, guide me across that threshold. But he did not.

Of course, not.

What we had shared in this quiet space, just the two of us, was more than enough for now. I could feel it in the way he kissed me, in the way he held me, and in the soft, steady rhythm of his breath against my cheek.

I held his gaze, a soft smile tugging at my lips. Whatever happened, whenever we chose to take the next step, without a doubt, it would feel just as right then as it did now.

After a moment, he brushed a stray curl from my face before whispering, "Stay right here," and he gently kissed my forehead.

My cheeks hurt with how much I had been smiling tonight.

He got up and walked toward the bathroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. "Let me clean you up," he said softly, his voice tender as he carefully wiped away the remnants of our intimacy.

Graham then held me close, his arms wrapping around me with a tenderness that sent warmth spreading through my chest. I nestled into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against my ear.

"Goodnight, my love," Graham murmured, his voice soft and reassuring.

"Goodnight," I whispered back, feeling my eyes flutter shut, the weight of the day finally lifting as I drifted off in his embrace.

————— ▲ —————

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone.

The space beside me was warm, but Graham was nowhere to be found. My mind, still foggy with the remnants of sleep, tried to piece together everything from the night before. The memories came flooding back—the kisses, the intimacy, the connection that had felt so perfect. But now, in the quiet of the morning, there was only the gentle rustle of the sheets and the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

I sat up, wrapping the blanket around myself, and glanced around the room.

It was then that I noticed a note on the side table next to me. Picking up the small piece of white paper, I read the familiar handwriting.

"Good morning beautiful,
I hope that you don't wake up before I return, but in the event that you do, I ran out quickly to get your favourite breakfast from the bakery that you like, I'll be back soon ❤"

I read the note again, a small smile spreading across my face.

It was the kind of gesture I had not really expected, but somehow, it felt so him. Graham always knew how to make me feel special, even in the little things.

I let out a soft sigh, feeling a warmth in my chest as I leaned back against the pillows. The quiet of the room settled around me, and for a moment, everything seemed perfectly still, calm and content.

Graham had taught me things about my body last night that I had not known were possible. My skin felt like it was on fire as the pleasure surged through me. The way he spoke to me, his seductive accent adding an intoxicating layer to every word, had my legs trembling with need.

I had been ready to lose my virginity, but I knew that there was no rush. We had all the time in the world. Until then, I would enjoy spending more time exploring each other's bodies.

It was not lost on me, though, that despite everything we had shared, his fingers had not entered me. Even though his hands had touched and caressed me, he had not fingered me. Graham had only used his mouth, his lips, his tongue—each sensation completely overwhelming in its own way.

In some strange way, it made me feel even more treasured.

And though I could not deny a part of me longed for more, I also appreciated the slow build, the way he took his time with me, savouring every moment. I knew when the time came, it would feel just as right as everything else we had shared.

For now, though, I was content. We had all the time in the world.

Sitting up once again, I noticed my handbag resting on the bench at the end of the bed. I stood up, walked over to it, and pulled out my toothbrush, heading for the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, then took a quick shower. When I came back into the bedroom, I spotted my discarded panties on the floor. I reached inside my bag and pulled out the fresh pair I had packed, feeling the soft fabric between my fingers.

As I slipped them on, I carefully folded the old ones and tucked them into the side of the handbag, before I moved to pick up Graham's sweater from last night. I slipped it on over my bare skin, the soft material falling to the top of my thighs. I closed my eyes for a moment as I inhaled his scent from the fabric.

As I worked my fingers through my messy curls, trying to tame them, I was startled when the bedroom door suddenly opened and Graham walked in, a tray of breakfast with familiar-looking things that instantly made my stomach rumble. My eyes lit up at the sight of him and I could not help the way the skin of my cheeks tingled.

"Aww, you're up. I was hoping to kiss you awake," he smiled before resting the tray of food on the bed and leaned in to kiss me.

I sighed as his lips met mine, the taste of his breath deliciously warm and rich like the mocha he had been drinking.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him closer. Our kiss deepened, and I pressed myself into him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. As he held me, I could not help but realize how much this new level of closeness had brought us together.

I pulled away slightly, my smile tugging at the corners of my lips, "So, what's for breakfast?"

He grinned, a twinkle in his eyes, "Your favourite."

"You spoil me too much."

Graham kissed me again, then whispered against my mouth, "You deserve to be spoiled."

I smiled softly, my heart fluttering in my chest. There was something comforting, almost protective, in the way he spoiled me, and it made me feel cherished, like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

The rest of the day was spent in each other's arms.

We curled up together, talking about everything and nothing at all. I could not help but notice how his gaze never left me, making me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

But as the day came to an end, I knew he had to walk me back to my dorm building. He seemed reluctant, his hand gently brushing against mine, as if trying to hold on to the time we still had together. He did not pull me in for a kiss, but the longing in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

When I entered my dorm room, a soft giggle escaped my lips. I still could not believe I had spent the night at Graham's place, let alone everything that had happened between us. The way his hands had touched me, the way his mouth had felt on my body, I could still feel the echoes of it all.

I had almost told him I loved him last night, but I had held back. It did not feel like quite the right time, and I did not want to rush it.

As I set my bag down, I noticed I had a few new texts from Emily. I smiled and quickly pulled my phone out, dialling her number. The phone barely had time to ring before she answered with a squeal.

"Tell me everything!"

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A/N: Almost 5k words, I hope that you enjoyed it.