Her breathing was ragged, matching mine as she leaned down to kiss me again. Hot. Demanding. Overwhelming.
I gritted my teeth, every muscle in my body locked tight as I fought for control. We had agreed on slow, but right now, with her moving against me like this, slow felt impossible.
When she took my hand and pressed it against her breast, it was all I could do not to lose it completely. “Jesus, Em.”
She shuddered, her hips stuttering against mine. For a second, just a second, I felt her sink deeper into it. Her eyes fluttered closed, her lips parted, and she was right there with me, chasing the same edge.
Then something shifted.
I felt it before I saw it. A tension creeping into her shoulders. A hitch in her breathing that wasn’t pleasure anymore. Her rhythm faltered, then stopped altogether.
She went still. Completely, utterly still. The heat that had been building between us cooled so fast it left me dizzy.
We were done.
Biting back a groan of frustration, I slid my arms around her and pulled her close. She came willingly, burying her face against my neck, her hands fisting in my shirt.
“I wish I wasn’t such a fuck up.” The words were so low I almost didn’t catch them.
“You’re not a fuck up.” I pressed a kiss into her hair. “You’re fine.”
“I’m not.” Her voice was muffled against my skin. “And you’re a damn saint, I swear.”
She stayed there for a heartbeat longer, her body tense against mine. Then she exhaled a long, trembling breath and pulled back, her eyes not quite meeting mine as she climbed off my lap.
The loss of her warmth was immediate and brutal.
She stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around herself, looking smaller than she had any right to. I wanted to reach for her, to pull her back down and hold her until that haunted look left her eyes.
But I knew that wasn’t what she needed right now.
“I’m just… I’m gonna go.”
“Okay, sweetheart.”
Her movements were jerky as she gathered her things, shoving her feet into her shoes, grabbing her phone from the coffee table. In the entryway, she dragged the door open and paused, turning back to me with a stiff smile.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
The door clicked shut behind her, absurdly loud in the quiet of my house.
I dropped my head back against the couch and closed my eyes, my hand sliding down to adjust myself. This was going to be a long night. I was wound so tight I thought I might actually snap.
With a frustrated groan, I hauled myself up and headed upstairs, into my ensuite. My mind replayed every moment of the last twenty minutes. The way she’d tasted. The sounds she’d made. The feel of her body against mine.
I imagined her here with me, imagined pulling her shirt off. Pressing my lips to her skin.
But instead, I was alone, taking care of myself in the bathroom like a goddamn teenager.
I stripped down and turned the shower on, stepping under the harsh stream. Water pounded against my back, too hot to be comfortable, but I needed it. Needed the burn to match the frustration crawling under my skin.
Pressing my forehead against the tiled wall, I wrapped my hand around my aching cock and let the images take over.
Emily. On top of me. The way she’d looked, cheeks flushed, pupils wide.
I groaned, stroking harder.
