“Fuck.” The word tore out of me. “Em.”
“Yes.” Her head fell back, exposing the long line of her throat. “God, yes.”
I pulled her hips forward slightly, angling her so I could sink deeper, and started to move. Slow at first because I needed a second to adjust. To process the fact that this was Emily, wet and tight and perfect around me with nothing in the way.
Her body gripped me with every thrust. I felt everything. Every flutter. Every clench. Every goddamn inch of her.
This woman. This incredible, strong, beautiful woman who trusted me enough to tie her up and fuck her in broad daylight. Who looked at me like I was exactly what she needed.
I picked up the pace, driving into her harder. She made breathy sounds that went straight to my cock, her wrists pulling at the ropes with each thrust. I couldn’t look away from her face. Didn’t want to.
“You feel so good.” I leaned in, my forehead resting against hers, my breath mixing with hers. “So fucking perfect.”
“Cam.” My name on her lips sounded like a prayer. She held my gaze, vulnerable and trusting, and it made my heart lurch. “I’m close.”
I slid My hand between us, finding her clit, circling it with my thumb, matching the rhythm of my hips. Her mouth fell open and her eyes went unfocused.
“That’s it.” I pressed harder, fucked into her deeper. “Come for me, Em. Let me feel it.”
She shattered with a cry that echoed across the river, her eyes going blind. Her pussy clenched around me, pulsing, squeezing, and I followed her over the edge, a guttural groan tearing frommy chest. I thrust once, twice more, riding out the waves as I spilled inside her.
For a moment I just stayed there, buried inside her, our foreheads pressed together, our breathing ragged. Her skin was warm and damp with sweat. I kissed her jaw, then her cheek, then finally her mouth.
“Everything okay?” I asked quietly against her lips, needing to make sure I hadn’t pushed too far.
“So okay.” Her voice was soft, satisfied. “That was...”
“Yeah.” I carefully withdrew, immediately missing the connection. “Hold on.”
I worked the knots loose, my fingers moving quickly, efficiently. The rope had left faint marks on her skin. “This doesn’t hurt?”
“No.”
“Good girl.” I cupped her face and kissed her again. Slow this time. Tender. Trying to show her what I felt even though I couldn’t say it yet.
When we broke apart, she smiled. “So. Lunch?”
I laughed and pulled her against me, wrapping my arms around her naked body. She fit perfectly there, her head tucked under my chin, and something settled in my chest.
This. This was what I wanted. What I’d been missing without even knowing it.
“Yeah.” I kissed the top of her head. “Lunch.”
But I didn’t let her go. Not yet.
EMILY
Lacey’s was a wall of noise. Twangy country music, clinking glass, and the roar of the Friday night crowd. Cam’s hand was a warm weight on my lower back, guiding me toward the corner where my favorite people in the world were already three rounds deep.
“There she is!” Hannah was on her feet before we’d even reached the table, beer raised high. “The artist extraordinaire!”
I barely had time to brace myself before I was swarmed. The next few minutes passed in a blur of hugs and congratulations, before Hannah intervened.
“Alright, everyone, sit down so we can properly toast!”
We did as we were told and I smiled gratefully at Samara when she pressed a glass of wine into my hand.
I did my best to ignore the flutter of anxiety already building underneath my sternum.
