Olivia squeezed her eyes shut. "I want you," she breathed, her voice trembling. "I want your hands on me. I want your mouth on me. I want everything."
Emma groaned low in her throat, her hands sliding boldly up under Olivia’s shirt, palms rough and calloused against the silkyskin of her back. She lifted the damp fabric slowly, teasingly, revealing inch after inch of flushed skin.
"You’ve got no idea what that does to me," Emma whispered against Olivia’s throat, trailing kisses down the elegant column of her neck. "Hearing you ask for it like that."
Emma tugged the shirt up and over Olivia’s head, tossing it aside carelessly. Olivia stood there, bare from the waist up, chest heaving, nipples peaked and aching from the cool air and Emma’s scorching gaze.
"Fuck, you’re beautiful," Emma rasped, hands sliding reverently over Olivia’s ribs, up to cup her breasts, thumbs flicking over the sensitive peaks in a way that made Olivia arch helplessly into her touch.
Emma took her time, her mouth following the path her hands blazed, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down Olivia’s throat, across her collarbone, lower and lower until her mouth closed over one taut nipple, sucking gently, then harder, drawing a strangled cry from Olivia’s lips.
"Emma, please, " Olivia gasped, clutching desperately at Emma’s shoulders.
Emma pulled back just enough to look up at her, a glint in her eye. "You want my mouth, darling? You want me to taste you?"
Olivia nodded frantically, the last threads of her control unraveling.
Emma dropped to her knees without hesitation, her hands gliding down Olivia’s sides to tug at the waistband of her shorts. She looked up, waiting, giving Olivia a chance to stop this, to say no.
But Olivia’s only answer was a breathless, desperate "yes."
Emma smiled, a dark and feral thing, and hooked her fingers into the denim, dragging the shorts and Olivia’s soaked panties down in one slow, devastating movement. Olivia kicked them away blindly, her whole body trembling with anticipation.
Emma took her time admiring her—her thighs quivering, her pussy slick and glistening in the soft light filtering through the small cabin windows. She leaned forward and pressed a slow, teasing kiss to the inside of Olivia’s knee, then higher and higher still, until Olivia was shaking, practically begging with soft, incoherent pleas.
"Relax, baby," Emma crooned, her voice a low, seductive promise. "I’m gonna take real good care of you."
When Emma’s mouth finally found her, Olivia nearly came apart on the spot. Emma’s tongue was skilled and relentless as she teased, tasted, and devoured. Olivia cried out, one hand tangling desperately in Emma’s hair, the other braced against the door behind her.
Emma moaned softly against her, the vibration shooting straight through Olivia’s core, making her legs buckle. Emma slid her hands up, gripping Olivia’s hips tightly, steadying her, anchoring her to the earth as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
Olivia came with a broken, keening cry, her whole body convulsing as Emma held her through it, mouth never leaving her, drawing every last shuddering tremor from her wrung-out body.
When Olivia finally sagged against the door, shaking and gasping for air, Emma rose slowly to her feet, licking her lips with lazy satisfaction.
She cradled Olivia’s face in her hands, brushing damp hair back from her temples, and kissed her, filthy and sweet all at once, letting Olivia taste herself on Emma’s tongue.
"You’re mine now, city girl," Emma whispered against her lips, voice thick with possession. "Ain’t nobody ever gonna touch you the way I do."
The air in the cabin was thick with the remnants of heat and sex and something far more dangerous.
Emma cradled Olivia close against her chest, running her fingers lazily through the damp strands of her hair. She could feel the steady thrum of Olivia’s heartbeat against her ribs, the slow, contented breaths as sleep began to pull her under.
Emma should have been exhausted too. Wrecked, satisfied, spent.
Instead, she felt wide awake, buzzing with something she couldn’t name.
She tipped her head back against the wooden wall and closed her eyes, letting the weight of Olivia's sleeping form anchor her. Beneath the familiar hum of desire still simmering low in her belly, something unexpected stirred, a deeper ache that had nothing to do with lust.
Goddamn it.
It would have been easier if this was just sex. Just bodies. Just need.
But it wasn’t.
Not when Olivia had looked at her with those wide, pleading green eyes, not when she'd moaned Emma’s name, not when she'd come undone with absolute, breathtaking surrender in her arms.
Emma hadn’t just taken Olivia’s body tonight.
