With heavy lids, he inhaled sharply as he leaned forward, closing the small space left between them. She tried to match the fiery stare swarming inside the deep gold of his pupils, but her gaze fell to his bottom lip instead. So she closed her eyes.
“But that’s the problem, Emma. I don’t want to be friends.” Hisvoice was close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her skin. Then calloused fingers touched her face, and her eyes flew open again. His gaze was still locked on her, but the heat in his eyes had changed slightly as his thumb grazed her cheek.
“What do you want?” she whispered.
“I want you.”
For a moment it felt like time had stopped.
Her breath hitched. Her fingers splayed against the wall behind her for balance, for reassurance that this was real as her mind replayed his words over and over again.
He waited, his face so close she could almost taste the sweetness of his lips on hers.
She blinked slowly, staring up at him through her thick eyelashes. Her mind and body reeled at his words.
I want you.
“You want me?” It came out like a question, as if saying it out loud might make it real.
His head fell forward. He braced his hands on the wall above her as his eyes closed, as if he were confessing his worst sin. “When I look at you, I can barely control myself.”
It was only when those words left his lips and filled the small space between them that she realized this wasn’t a dream. This was real. Knightley wanted her. And suddenly something ignited deep inside her.
“Then… look at me,” she responded, her voice surprisingly low and steady.
A moment. Then his head slowly lifted, his expression shifting from surprise to triumph to something much more carnal as his hand came up to cup her jaw, holding her there, his eyelids heavy.
“Emma,” he whispered, almost to himself.
God, her name on his lips. It was the best sound in the world.
“Yes,” she whispered back.
He leaned in and kissed her. She gasped as his tongue gently teased her bottom lip, parting her mouth open, sending a shot of electricity to her heart, her head, her core. She didn’t expect to moan so loudly, but when their tongues brushed together, when his hands bracketed each of her arms to pull her closer, she couldn’t help it. Her body melted against his and she gripped at the fabric of his shirt for support, pressing him flush against her. A groan escaped his throat in response and a triumphant thrill ran up her spine. God, she never wanted this to stop. Never ever—
Then he pulled back suddenly, letting out a shaky breath as he rested his forehead on hers.
No, don’t stop. Don’t stop.
Their breathing was loud and erratic, their hearts pounding rapidly in sync. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but all Emma could think about was his lips on hers again.
“Emma, I—”
She crushed her mouth to his, cutting him off as her hands pulled at his strong arms, bringing his body flush with hers once more.
Whatever anger or confusion had been weighing on Emma only moments before was redirected, fueling the spark. She wanted this, and so did he. George Knightley wanted her. She couldn’t think beyond those words running on repeat in her mind. Every time they did, she could only feel the burning ache taking over her body, the heat quickly rising from deep within her belly.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. Then he pushed his hips forward to pin her to the wall, one hand securing her small frame while the other tilted her head back so he could kiss and tease her already swollen lips.
His nimble fingers moved, quickly untying the wrap belt of her dress. He kissed her bare shoulder before letting her clothes fall to the ground. Standing there in her boots and matching black underwear and lace bra, she should have felt exposed, vulnerable. But she only felt alive as he sucked in his breath.
“You’re killing me, Emma,” he whispered as his hands caressed the soft skin of her stomach. Then he leaned forward again, his lips grazing over her collarbone. She was barely aware of the whimpers escaping her parted lips.
She began to fumble with his belt and he chuckled, stepping back to undo it himself. Then he pulled off his sweater and stripped down to his boxers. A thin sheen of sweat was visible above his brow and on his torso, showing off his tanned skin as he stared at her, his breathing erratic.
God, he’s so gorgeous, she thought, squeezing her legs together. Her hands acted on their own, reaching out to touch his chest. She skimmed her palms over his hard abs and downward, feeling him tense and inhale sharply. Unable to stop herself, her fingers went lower while her eyes followed. She heard him groan, his eyes locked on her, his breath coming out in short pants now as her thumb grazed over the skin just under the waistband of his boxers. She could see his hardness, thick and prominent underneath. She started to slide her hands under the material, but he was faster.
In one swift move, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her up against the wall, holding her in place with his strong body, her legs easily wrapping around his waist.
