His smile fades as he studies my face, clearly caught off guard by my sincerity. “I promise,” he whispers.
The rain pours outside as we stand a few inches apart in this delicate moment. His eyes on me and mine on him, unspoken words hanging in the air between us. I know they won’t be spoken, not yet.
“Do you mind if we don’t…play the Domme thing tonight?” I ask.
He reaches up to brush a strand of wet hair out of my face. I let out a shaky breath as he touches me.
“Whatever you want. Does this mean I can kiss you without needing permission first?”
My heart skips a beat in my chest. “Yes.”
Leaning forward, he softly pulls my lips toward his, tracing the shape of them with his tongue before sliding into my mouth to find my own. I don’t push or demand control, but we dance a fine line of dominance, each of us giving and taking and meeting somewhere in the middle.
With a couple steps, he has me pressed against the side of my car. His hands lift the back of my shirt as my skin presses up against the cool, wet glass. I shiver as his fingers explore my body, but as I feel his touch crest the soft rolls of my waist, I tense.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling away from our heated kiss.
“Nothing,” I reply, quickly covering up my discomfort as I pull him back down.
With a groan, he grinds against me, his hard length pressed to my core. I spread my legs for him, giving him more access as his other hand lifts one of my thighs. Everything in me lights up with need, but a moment later, a car drives by, and I’m reminded that we’re basically dry humping in my open garage for everyone to see.
“Inside,” I gasp against his mouth. I shove him toward the door, and we barely break contact as he stumbles backward. We only make it into the living room before he picks me up and deposits me on the couch, lying flat on my back as he climbs over me.
“We could have made it upstairs,” I say breathlessly as he lifts my shirt over my head and presses his lips to my stomach.
“Nope. Too far,” he replies, kissing circles around my belly button.
Chills run up my spine from the way his soft lips feel against my skin. I can’t remember the last time anyone even touched my stomach, let alone ran their tongue just above the seam of my pants, which is what he’s doing now. And it feels like heaven.
I keep waiting for him to move to a more erogenous area like between my legs or my breasts, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses his way up my sternum and along my collarbone.
“I love this spot right here,” he whispers, pressing his lips to the divot at the base of my throat. His warm breath against me is making everything so sensitive, and I feel every one of his touches all the way to my core.
When was the last time I let someone just touch and explore me like this? Sex has always been a means to an end, never something I took the time to really enjoy before.
“Beau…” I breathe his name for no particular reason, other than to remind myself that this is really him. Emerson’s son.
Reaching for the hem of his shirt, I drag it over his head and stare at the soft planes of his chest, the curve of muscle around his shoulders and the ridges of abs that lead to the perfect V above his shorts.
He’s so perfect, so beautiful, and I’m torn between wanting him in a frenzy to fuck me and wanting to savor this moment.
His mouth doesn’t stop at my collarbone but travels around my shoulder and down my arms. His wet tongue glides across the tender flesh of my upper arm, sending a warm wave of pleasure through me. I let out a moan, and he doesn’t stop, covering my body in exploratory kisses.
“Don’t you want to…” My voice trails as he lifts up from my body and stares down in confusion.