Page 11

A strong jaw clenched. The hunger in those dark eyes was undeniable, but the pride remained fiercely intact. Instead of yielding, a cool hand shot up. Fingers wrapped tightly in the neckline of Emma’s tank top, yanking her down until their lips almost brushed.

"Don't play games with me," she warned, her voice dropping so low it was almost a hum.

A thrill shot straight down Emma's spine. She loved the resistance. Emma was used to taking charge, to pushing until the other person melted, and she fully intended to break this stranger apart.

"Impatient." Emma said with a smirk.

She leaned down, replacing her hand with her mouth.

The woman's back arched violently off the mattress. Her fingers flew into Emma’s hair, gripping the strands with bruising force. Emma ignored the pull, focusing entirely on the task at hand. She tasted slick heat, letting her tongue trace a torturous path over the swollen nerve.

"Yes," a broken moan escaped against the pillows.

Emma set a relentless rhythm. She learned the exact pressure that made the older woman’s hips stutter. The taste was incredible—an intoxicating mix of arousal and sweetness that drove Emma wild. She slipped two fingers inside, curling them upward in time with her mouth, creating an assault that left no room for rational thought.

The carefully constructed walls of the stranger's control finally crumbled.

Her fingers slipped from Emma’s hair, catching fistfuls of sheet instead. Her breath hitched, catching short in her chest. Her thighs locked around Emma’s temples, pinning her down as the pulse hit. A raw sound broke from her mouth, her back arching off the mattress, every muscle clenching tight around Emma’s hand.

Emma stayed exactly where she was, swallowing the climax, keeping the pressure steady until the violent trembling subsided.

Panting, Emma pulled back. She dragged herself up the length of the mattress, a victorious smile curving her lips. She expected to find the woman ruined, subdued beneath her.

Instead, she met dark eyes burning with open hunger and relentless focus.

Before Emma could brace herself, strong hands gripped her hips. With a shocking surge of leverage, the woman flipped them over.

The mattress bounced as Emma’s back hit the sheets. The older woman straddled her waist, her hair falling in a cascade around her flushed face. The shift left Emma breathless. Her top instinct flared immediately; she planted her hands on the mattress to push herself back up, ready to wrestle the control back into her own hands.

"Ah," the woman murmured. She moved with blistering speed, catching both of Emma's wrists and pinning them to the mattress above her head with an unyielding grip.

Emma struggled, twisting her hips, but the woman simply shifted her weight, pressing down and trapping Emma completely. Emma pushed back, but she hit a brick wall of effortless authority. It was too much. For the first time in her life, Emma realized she was outmatched, and a dizzying wave of submission pooled in her stomach.

"My turn," the stranger whispered, her eyes flashing with triumph.

She leaned down, kissing Emma deeply, swallowing her gasp. Her body pressed heavily against Emma's, the friction sending heat straight through Emma’s core. She released Emma’s wrists, knowing Emma wouldn't fight her anymore.

Slowly, she trailed her hand down Emma’s stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans.

Emma arched into the touch instantly. Precise fingers found her wetness, sliding deep inside. Emma groaned, her head thrashing against the pillow, but the woman suddenly withdrew her hand.

Emma opened her eyes, desperate and confused. The older woman was kneeling over her, bringing her slick fingers up to her own mouth. She kept her dark eyes locked on Emma’s as she dragged her tongue along her fingertips, tasting the arousal with deliberate relish.

"God, you taste so good," she murmured, her voice a dark purr.

The image knocked the thought clean out of Emma. A dark flush flooded her chest, leaving her mouth dry.

"Please," Emma begged, the word tearing out of her throat. All her desire to be in charge evaporated, replaced by a consuming need to surrender.

"Let's see how much you can take," she whispered, sliding her fingers right back inside.

She set a driving pace that made Emma’s vision blur. She curled her fingers upward, striking the internal cluster of nerves with ruthless precision, while her thumb found the slick bundle outside, circling it with relentless pressure.

Emma sobbed, her hips rising off the mattress to meet every thrust. The sensory overload was absolute. She was absolutely at the mercy of the hands working over her. Every movement was calculated to draw out the maximum amount of pleasure, pushing Emma higher until the tension became a physical ache.

Emma bucked her hips, reaching down to touch herself to speed it up.

A hand clamped down firmly over Emma's wrist, pulling it away.