Her fingers desperately claw into my shoulders.Her mouth still fused to mine like she’s trying to crawl inside my skin.
And I’d let her.I’d tear myself wide open if it meant she stayed there forever.
"Fuck, Emery," I say against her lips, my voice thick with every filthy, desperate thing I've been holding back."You feel that?"I grind my cock up into her, hard and ruthless, making sure she feels it. "That’s what you fucking do to me."
She rolls her hips again, slow, filthy, a goddamn tease, grinding down on me with one purpose: to ruin me.To break me open right here, halfway up the goddamn staircase, and leave me begging at her feet.
Every step is its own kind of torture.Her heat pressed tight against me, her body grinding against my cock like she knows exactly how to break me. She’s not teasing.She’s claiming. Dragging that sweet, hot pussy over my cock with every slow grind, every breathless moan against my throat.
She’s daring me.Promising me exactly what’s waiting the second I get her flat on her back.
"You keep grinding that sweet pussy on me like that," I growl, voice rough enough to tear skin, "and I’m gonna fuck you right here on this goddamn staircase."
She moans, soft, desperate, needing it, aching for it.
And fuck… if she keeps moving against me, I just might.
Chapter Fifteen
Emery
Hedoesn’tstop.Doesn’tslow.Just keeps moving.One heavy, brutal step after another, like there’s only one destination and nothing, is gonna get in the way.
The bedroom door flies open, crashing against the wall, and the second we’re inside, he kicks it shut, hard.
Then I’m flying.
His hands grip my ass, lifting me off him just long enough to throw me down onto the bed.
The mattress jolts beneath me, and before I can suck in a breath, he’s on me.Crawling up my body, covering me completely.His eyes are wild, dark with hunger, his jaw clenched like he’s one second from losing control and fucking me senseless.
"You’ve got no fucking idea," he says, voice low and rough, "how many nights I dreamt about fucking you right here in this bed," he mutters, sliding his palm up my thigh.Burning a path straight to my core."Every time I wrapped my hand around my cock, jerking it to the memory of you.It was you I'd think of.Your mouth, your moans, the way you used to beg me for more."
My breathing stutters, hips arching instinctively into his touch, desperate for him, for whatever filthy piece of him he’s willing to give.
"I'm not stopping," he mutters against the sweatshirt at my stomach."Not until you're dripping… shaking… mine in every filthy way."His hands slide up under the sweatshirt and then he stops.
A low, brutal snarl rips from his chest.It’s deep, dark, pure fucking hunger.
His eyes snap up to mine, and there’s nothing soft in them, just need.
"Fuck, Em," he mutters, almost to himself, like the realization just knocked the breath out of him. "You’ve been walking around all goddamn day with nothing on under this sweatshirt?"
I bite my lip, trying to hold it together, but it’s useless.He’s already shoving the fabric higher, exposing inch after inch of bare, trembling skin.
His gaze trails down my body—a prayer etched slow into skin—and then he moves.Drops to his knees between my thighs as if it’s where he’s always belonged.
He grips my thighs, spreads them wide, exposing my soaked, aching pussy.
Then he dives in.Mouth buried deep, devouring me with no warning, no slow lead-up.Just raw, relentless worship.
He licks me as if he’s dying for a fix and I’m the only thing that can save him.I moan, clawing at his hair, frantic, until he grabs my wrist, and slams it onto the bed, and holds it there, forcing me to take every brutal, wet stroke of his tongue.
His tongue fucks into me, slow, deep, obscene, and I’m already unraveling.My mind’s gone, body trembling with every slick stroke.
He groans against my clit when I grind down on his face, the vibration shooting through me, dragging a broken moan straight from my throat.
"Matteo—"
