"We should probably get ready," she says eventually. "Appointment's in an hour and a half."
"Plenty of time."
"For what?"
I roll her onto her back, settling between her legs. "For this." I kiss her neck, then her collarbone, working my way down. "We can be quick."
"Quick is not romantic."
"Quick can be very romantic." My hand slides under her shirt—my shirt—finding warm skin. "Trust me."
"I do trust you. That's the problem."
But she's already arching into me, already making those soft sounds that drive me crazy.
"Ten minutes," I murmur against her skin. "Give me ten minutes and I'll make you forget we have anywhere to be."
"Five minutes," she counters. "I need time to shower and—oh God—"
I've found that spot on her inner thigh that makes her lose her train of thought.
"What was that about needing to shower?"
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"No, I don't."
She’s beneath me now, flushed and breathless, her legs falling open on the bed. Her hair fanned out against the pillow, wild and dark. Her breath catches as I kiss a line down her neck, her collarbone, her sternum.
“Don,” she warns, “we don’t have timefor—”
I kiss her, hot and hard, trying to swallow whatever protest she has left. My hand slips between her thighs, fingers sliding through the slick heat already waiting for me.
“Jesus, Em.” I stroke her firmly. “You’re soaked. That doesn’t say you’re in a hurry to leave, sweetheart?”
She arches into me, a whimper escaping her throat.
“It says you’re fucking starving for it.” My voice drops, I drag my tongue down her throat, over her chest, nipping her breast through the fabric.
Her breath catches as I suck her nipple through the cotton. “You’re obsessed.”
“Damn right I am.”
I shift lower, kissing over her belly, my hand never leaving the rhythm between her thighs.
“This pussy,” I murmur, “was made to be fucked by me. And you know it.”
Her hips jerk. “I—we have to—“
“Shh.” I push two fingers inside her. Deep. Slow. My thumb presses up, circling her clit just right.
She’s already panting, golden eyes wide and glassy, one hand gripping the edge of the headboard as I pump my fingers into her, watching the way her skin flushes from her chest to her ears.
“You’re already close, aren’t you?” I rumble against her throat. “Always so fucking needy for it.”
Emma moans, hips tilting to chase every thrust, her thighs trembling on either side of mine. I pull back slightly and stroke her with the wet glide of my thumb.
