I kiss the top of her head as I carry her over the threshold of the room, reveling in the cool silk of her hair, inhaling her gardenia scent. She’s the most brilliant, infuriating, giving, sharp, loyal woman I’ve ever met. She makes me lose my mind even as she gives me back my soul. No matter what else happens after this weekend, this is where we’ve been heading, to right here with her in my arms, for the last seven years.
I could do this forever and never get enough. I need to be in her, around her, feel every part of her against every part of me.
Even after last night, it still feels surreal to have Emma like this. But she’s always been my Emma. And she always will be.
I take my time, peeling off her clothes and caressing every inch of her body. The body I’ve been dreaming of for months—hell, for years—until she’s writhing.
I lick, long and slow, on the tip of her nipple. She gasps and almost comes off the bed in reaction. “You’re so responsive, baby. I love that,” I praise. I finally give her relief by taking the sweet bud and sucking.
Her moans take me higher, make me harder, than I’ve ever been before. I try to go slow, making my way down her belly to the place I’m dying for. I inch her panties down as I kiss each patch of skin I uncover until she’s gasping. Her scent there drives me crazier than her moans. I pull back and look up at her face, awash in pleasure—eyes glowing, cheeks pink, mouth parted.
She narrows her eyes and wriggles on the bed, her legs around me. That sensual movement makes me groan. “If you stop now, I will murder you, Sebastian.”
I love her bossy side. “I’m not going to stop until you’re calling me God and coming all over my face,” I retort. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t make you beg first.”
With that, I kiss her exactly where I know she wants me and exactly where I want to be, at the center of that sweet pussy.
I lick and nibble, up and down. And she cries and swears as I do it.
We’re competitive, so it becomes a game. Her trying to hold out. And me using every skill I’ve ever learned to take her as high as she can possibly go. Then stopping or slowing before resuming the torture, holding her on a knife’s edge.
She swears as I finally make direct contact with her clit, circling around it with my tongue, all the while using my finger to drive her mad with slow, shallow strokes. Back and forth. In and out.
I’m a starving man. And I need to eat her like this is my last meal on earth.
With every lick, I drive us both crazy. I can’t hold back from her much longer.
I take her clit in my mouth and suck.
“Sebastian,” she sobs, finally breaking for me. “Please. Please. Please.”
“Thank God, baby,” I may have meant to tease her so that she begged, but I’m the one praying because I can’t wait any longer.
“Give me all of you. Come for me, Emma.” My voice is guttural.
She lies there spread out before me, completely wanton.
“I’m so fucking in love with your pussy,” I say. “Roll over like a good girl. I want to appreciate the view. And I need to be in you.Now.”
Heat flares in her eyes as she pretends to consider my order. “I thought we established you aren’t the boss of me. Anymore.”
“And we established that I am. When we’re in bed.”
She cocks her head. “What about in the shower? In the bath? Or on that lovely antique desk? Who’s boss in those domains?” she asks, breathless.
I stroke my hand down my aching cock, dying for it to be in her.
She licks her lips, torturing me further.
“We can negotiate that later. You’ve teased me all night. Roll over. And go on all fours.”
She complies. I grab a condom from the pocket of my discarded slacks, open it, and slip it on. She looks back at me in sensual promise, her eyes needy.
I run my hands down her sweet ass. She gasps and writhes. When I finally slide into her, it’s the best, most complete feeling in the world.
I move in rhythmic pumps. I can’t get enough of her cries. Of her soft, straining body. Of her tight, wet heat. One hand teases, moving over her clit.
But it’s not enough. “I need to see you,” I beg. “I need to see you when you come.”
