The Crush (64)
“We seem to like this position,” I whispered against his mouth. Then I nipped at his lush bottom lip.
Emmett stole my mouth in a fierce kiss, a groan rumbling out of his chest. With my back braced against the slider and my chest naked, he was able to coast his hand and palm and fingers over my skin.
He made tight circles with his thumb, swallowing the whimpering moans I made into the kiss. My hips churned restlessly, and he broke away to suck at the skin on my shoulder.
“Here?” he asked.
I quirked an eyebrow. “You trust the strength of this slider?”
A slow, devastating smile spread over his face. “No.”
“Inside then, buddy. I’m not getting a splinter in my back from this house if you want to test the wall either. Your ass would be the one plucking them out.”
Emmett laughed, taking another sweet, lush kiss before he tugged the slider open.
We tumbled inside, my feet touching the floor when he set me down. Rotating our positions, I shoved Emmett back onto the couch, where he immediately shucked off his shorts and boxer briefs.
I tugged my underwear off and stood between his legs, stark ass naked. He leaned forward, settling his big hands over my hips, pressing featherlight kisses over my stomach and along my ribs. I wove my fingers into his hair and sighed. When he pulled back and spread his arms wide along the back of the couch, Emmett did nothing for a moment except look.
There were certain moments in a woman’s life when all it took was the expression on her man’s face, and she felt like a fucking queen.
I did this to him.
I had his restraint hanging by a thread. His hands fisted on the couch. His eyes hot and his jaw locked tight.
“Take what you want,” he said.
There was so much power in those words, something he was conceding to me. He might not be handing me all the control because I had a feeling once his hands were on me, the giving and taking and submitting would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.
But what I wanted—more than anything—was to make Emmett feel good. Take the same care with him that he’d taken with me this whole time.
When I sank to my knees, his chest expanded on a mighty inhale.
He cursed my name in a low moan, gathering my hair into a tight fist.
I explored his body, using my hands and mouth and tongue, and when my palm spread over the tight drum of his stomach, and I felt the muscles lock tight, I knew he was close.
I slowed my movements, my eyes locking with his.
He was so damn beautiful. His head dropped back for a moment, brow furrowed and teeth bared in a fierce clench. But his gaze never left mine.
Giving him pleasure, it was a high I’d never experienced before. Because I wanted to. I didn’t need to. It wasn’t expected of me.
I didn’t know how much of him I’d ever get or how long I might have to wait before I saw him again after this.
And that unexpected pang of tenderness had me climbing up his lap, splitting my legs on either side of his hips and gripping his face tight in my hands so I could kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.
Emmett wrapped his arms around my back, the tight embrace making it hard to breathe.
Just like that, with his hand guiding me down over him, I took Emmett inside. When I settled fully over him, our foreheads pressed against each other, Emmett sighed my name.
I started to move, just slow rocking motions of my hips.
He kissed me, sweeping his tongue through my mouth. His hands locked around my hips, and he started to move along with me.
Up when I came down, again and again, his movements became more of a fierce snap than a gentle roll.
Sweat beaded along my neck as we rocked in that position, the pleasure building and growing and changing until my fingers tingled and my toes curled up. When he sucked at my chest, the sharp jolt of pleasure tossed me headlong over the first shuddering cliff.
He watched me with rapt attention, never stopping the pulse of his hips.
“Again,” he whispered.
Turning his great big body, Emmett settled me on my back on the couch, and with my thighs locked high on his sides, he snapped his hips in a relentless pace, whispering all manner of things into my ears until I did as he asked, flung helplessly back into a white, sparkling explosion behind my eyes.
It wasn’t until he groaned my name that I realized he’d joined me there.
I wrapped my arms around him, kissing the sweat-slick skin of his shoulder.
Somehow, he pulled us up like that, sweeping me into his arms.
Emmett wasn’t done with me. Not by a long shot.
He carried me into the bathroom off my bedroom, depositing me onto the counter while he started the water in the shower. He kissed me while we waited, slow and sweet and decadent. My hands slid over his upper body, and my eyes pricked with tears when he hummed happily at the touch of my tongue to his.
When the glass was fogged with steam, he took me by the hand and led me into the shower. Instead of pushing me against the tile, Emmett directed me under the heat of the water. I tipped my head back to soak my hair while he poured soap between his big hands, creating a thick lather as he rubbed them together.
“Turn,” he said, and I complied instantly.
The man took his time, over my shoulders and down my arms, along the curve of my waist, and up over my breasts. But he didn’t make any move to instigate anything else. He kissed my shoulder as he made sure all the bubbles were clean from my body, pushing the hair back off my forehead so he could skim his lips over my cheekbones, my forehead, and the tip of my nose.