“You like that?” he murmured low and soft.
“Uh huh.” She finished on a gasp as he pinched the sensitive tips.
His hands dropped to the zipper of her jeans, and the buzz of the metal teeth as he dragged it down was loud. He eased her jeans down off her hips and hooked his fingers in the edges of her panties, tugging them down until her ass was fully exposed.
“Bend over,” he commanded.
She complied without thinking. The rustle of cloth was her only warning before he pushed the head of his cock into her swollen sex. He kept one palm on her lower back, holding her down as he worked himself deeper through a series of slow thrusts. Sophie buried her face in the coverlet of his bed, her hands clenching and unclenching in the soft fabric. With each thrust he filled her, stretched her, and she basked in the spreading bliss. He leaned over her, his arms caging her shoulders, his panting breaths spreading over her neck. He pumped into her, changing his strokes, teasing her, keeping her pinned and only able to beg in breathless gasps for more or harder. He always gave her what she asked for, but always pulled back when she was ready to explode.
“Emery, please!” she begged.
He leaned back, gripped her hips and started pounding into her. The slap of flesh on flesh and the sounds of their lovemaking filled the room. Sophie could barely think beyond the moment. His possession, his passion. It was everything she wanted and needed. There was no separation between them, not an inch of distance. They were as close as two people could ever be.
Her climax was so close; she was ready to burst. If he slowed down one more time she’d die. Emery suddenly changed his position and penetrated her from a different angle. She buckled under the supernova of pleasure. He came seconds after, uttering a harsh cry of his own release. He collapsed on top of her, and both of them bent over the bed, but his weight wasn’t an unwelcome one. His ragged pants by her ear increased the tingling of her aftershocks, enriching the small ripples of the tiny climaxes that followed. He was still buried deep inside her and semi-hard.
“Ready for round two?” She couldn’t resist the urge to tease him and wiggled beneath him.
Emery let out a half-laugh, half-groan. “You’re going to be the death of me.” His chuckle vibrated against her back and she couldn’t resist a feline smile.
“Me? I’ll be lucky if I can walk after this,” she half-heartedly protested.
“If you can’t, I’ll carry you.” He brushed her hair back from her neck and placed a kiss where her pulse beat beneath her skin.
“I wish we didn’t have to go to the party. I’d rather stay here, just like this,” he murmured. Her heart gave a funny flip in her chest. The truth of his words filled her with warmth, yet it was tinged with disappointment that it wouldn’t come to pass.
Emery finally straightened and pulled out of her. Sophie, sweaty and loose-limbed, quickly darted into the restroom to clean up. A smirk curled her lips and she restrained the urge to laugh. He’d turned her inside out, made her a wild and wanton creature, and it suited her. She could never go back to being the quiet, reserved woman she once was. That old Sophie Ryder was gone and she was never coming back.
Thank God. She was finally getting to live her life. Emery refused to let her keep herself hidden away. Funny…he was the recluse, but he’d opened his own heart, dropped his walls to let her in and she’d been forced to do the same in order to love him.
“Come on, Sophie.” His voice echoed across the bathroom marble.
He appeared in the doorway, already fully dressed again and looking devastatingly handsome. If a person really could look like a million dollars, he could, in the best way. The refined, tailored suits and the silk ties, made him a thing of masculine perfection enhanced by the natural virility and sensual appeal hidden just beneath the layer of clothes. She’d seen him naked, gloriously so, and he was all man, all primal energy suffused with the sexual appeal of natural warriors of old, like the sort of man who’d throw her over his shoulder and haul her to bed. After seducing her beyond her sanity. He was so damned good at that.
A smile flirted on her lips and he noticed.
“What’s that for?”
“Hmm?” she asked.
“That little grin.”
“I was just thinking, it’s so easy for you to get dressed.” She grumbled as she finished cleaning up and walked back out to the bedroom. She was completely naked and yet for the first time she didn’t feel vulnerable or exposed. She didn’t have to worry about disappointing him with her scars. He’d kissed each and every one with a tenderness that had nearly ripped her in two.
“It may be easy for me, but I guarantee you’ll look better.” He leered until she burst out laughing. She was still giggling when she reached for her panties and bra. He was suddenly behind her, surrounding her with his strength as he caught her wrist, stilling her.
“No underwear. I want you bare tonight,” he whispered into her ear. His husky tone was like drinking whisky when it burned in all the right places.
Her body burst into flames all over again. She released the lacy pair of panties and fingered the barely there bra. It wouldn’t have provided much cover anyway. The dress’s fabric was thick enough that she supposed she could get away with going braless.
“Thank you, Master Emery,” she teased.
He smacked her bare bottom, leaving a little sting that he rubbed away, which only made her want him back inside her.
“You know…if I was more of a dom, I’d demand that you call me that with respect and expect it. You’re lucky you’re not dating Royce or Wes. They’re both far stricter about those things. I know you’re not submissive enough for that.”
“Lucky me.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Yes, lucky you…” he murmured. “I do like the sound of that. I think I’ll start insisting you call me Master more often.” He moved away from her as he picked up her dress and held it out.
