I shook my head, smiling “Not anymore.”
His laugh was low and soft, the kind that made my knees weaken. “That’s what I thought.”
He kissed me again, harder this time and everything else disappeared. It wasn’t just passion; it was years of love, of familiarity, of knowing exactly who we were when the world fell away.
When he broke the kiss, his breath was unsteady. “Emma, how do you do this to me?” he whispered, his forehead pressed against mine.
“Do what?” I managed, though my voice was barely a whisper.
“Drive me absolutely crazy. Like I have to have you, right now, right this second. Like a hunger or a thirst that I’ve never felt.”
We stood there for a moment, still, breathing each other in. His hands slid down to mine, fingers intertwining, and he gave a small tug, leading me toward the bed. I followed, willingly, the faint smile on his lips the only thing that mattered in that moment.
He sat me down and brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his touch tender again. “You’re everything,” he said simply.
I felt my throat tighten, emotion welling up beneath the surface. “You don’t have to say that,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said softly. “But I want to.”
The bed was soft beneath us, the sheets cool against skin that had been warmed by the glow of candlelight and the closeness of his body.
Dan slid his hand up my dress, grazing his way up my inner thigh, and I closed my eyes against the sensations that threatened to unravel me. His touch was confident, commanding, but never harsh. Every movement was precise, deliberate, meant to draw me closer, to remind me that this was us.
“You feel… incredible,” he murmured, voice low and husky. “I can’t get enough of you.”
My chest lifted in a small laugh, half breathless, half delighted. “You’re ridiculous,” I whispered, though I knew he would take the words as a compliment.
He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of my head, then against my temple, trailing down my cheek. Each gentle contact was like a spark, a reminder of all the ways we had fallen for each other, all over again. My hands found his shoulders, gripping lightly, feeling the strength there.
Dan’s eyes caught mine again, and there was a flicker there. “You know,” he said, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips, “I could get used to having you like this.”
I tilted my head up, lips brushing against his jaw in a playful but lingering kiss. “You’ve had me like this for years,” I countered, voice soft, my heart fluttering.
“Not like this,” he said, voice rougher now, deepened by desire and emotion. “Not like right now.”
The words sent a thrill through me. The candlelight danced across his features, casting shadows that made him look at once familiar and new, as if I were seeing him for the first time and the hundredth time all at once. I felt heat pooling in my chest, a rising awareness of how much I wanted him to take me, right now.
He shifted closer, his hand resting in the small of my back as he guided me down onto the bed. I felt the weight of him pressing gently against me, one hand bracing against the mattress while the other traced a slow, teasing path along the curve of my body, sending shivers through me and making my breath catch. Every inch of him against me made it impossible to think of anything but the ache of wanting him closer, of needing his touch.
“I love this,” he murmured against my ear, the words vibrating through me. “Us. Right here. Right now. No interruptions. No distractions. Just you and me.”
I smiled against his shoulder, closing my eyes. “It’s perfect,” I whispered. And it was. Not because of grandeur or theatrics, but because of the intimacy, and the way he made me feel seen, wanted, cherished.
His fingers traced along the curves of my body, teasing and exploring just enough to make my breath quicken. I could feel the electricity between us, every inch of proximity making it impossible to think of anything else. My chest rose and fellrapidly, a quiet moan escaping as I pressed closer, desperate for his fingers inside me.
“Tell me how much you want me,” he murmured, his voice low, rough around the edges, sending a thrill straight to my core.
I met his gaze, breathless, lips parted. “You know,” I whispered.
His eyes darkened, and a slow, deliberate smile curved his lips. The intensity in his gaze made my heart pound; I could feel his desire, mirrored in my own.
Without breaking eye contact, his fingers teased before sliding deeper. My breath quickened. I tilted my head back, letting the sensation wash over me; a mix of anticipation, need, and the undeniable pull of intimacy. His fingers slid in and out of me with effortless ease; my body welcoming him with it’s wetness.
I couldn’t take anymore and wanted to feel him, all of him deep inside of me. I rolled slightly, allowing him to continue pleasuring me with his fingers while I gently guided him down onto the bed. His eyes met mine, a flicker of hunger and reverence that made my pulse spike. I kissed him, slow and deep, letting the passion of the moment consume us. Every brush of lips, every graze of fingertips, sent sparks coursing through me. It was enough to make me tremble, to make me feel utterly undone.
“You’re so wet for me,” he whispered between kisses, his fingers still enjoying me. “And it’s driving me wild.”
I smiled against his lips, letting my hands wander over him, feeling the heat and strength of him beneath my fingers. The world outside ceased to exist. It was just him and me, moving together in rhythm, letting the tension build until it felt almost unbearable.
