In the bedroom, the rules don’t change—only the stakes.
Which is why I have no problem guiding her gorgeous ass backwards until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed.
Keeping a firm grip on her hips, I settle her down on the mattress’s edge, standing between her spread thighs.
Within seconds, I have her tank top off, unmasking soft skin and a black lace bra that pushes her tits up—high enough to make my cock strain againstmy slacks.
“These yours?” I ask, dragging my thumb across the top edge of the cup.
“The bra?”
“No. These.” I palm them both through the lace, thumbs circling.
She moans when I pinch her nipples through the fabric, and a second later, when I drag the fabric of the cups down, each beautiful tear-dropped breast spills free.
And fuck me.
They’re perfect. Full. And seemingly soft.
I can’t help it. My mouth immediately finds one dark pink nipple, sucking soft and long.
The move is met with a whispered chorus of “Oh my God’s” from Em.
But I want more.
Dragging my teeth over her breast, I blow cool air across the wet peak until she’s practically squirming.
“Christ you’re beautiful.” I reach for her chin, tilting her head up so her gaze is fixed on mine. “Don’t hold back, Em,” I warn, “I want all of you, and I want you to get everything you came here for.”
Her hazel eyes widen, pupils blown, and she gives a tiny, shaking nod.
“Good. Now,” I say, tugging the bra off completely and tossing it aside, “take those shorts off. Panties too.”
I step back and watch, arms crossed, as she obeys. The sight of her sliding those tiny black panties down her legs while maintaining eye contact makes my cock throb harder.
Fuck.
She's bare now, thighs spread, trembling under my stare.
Dropping to my knees, I wrap both hands around the tops of her thighs and drag her gorgeous young body down the bed until her ass is right at the edge, her pussy glistening with her arousal.
“You have any idea how gorgeous you are like this.” I grit, voice tight. “Laid out, open, ready for me?”
She shudders, and I dive in—burying my mouth between her legs like a man starved.
Because Em is a goddamned confection—a treat for my tongue. Made for this.
When she moans loud and thready, I press a flat palm to her stomach to hold her down.
“Don’t you dare come yet,” I warn. “Not until I’m done.”
“Please—Don—”
I flick my tongue faster, then slow again, looking up at her from between her thighs, watching her unravel. When she starts to tremble, I stop.
“That’s it, sweetheart. You want to come?”
“Yes. God, yes—please.”
