He curses, his hands slapping the wall behind me. His body tightens beneath my hands as I massage his thighs, then reach up to his waist and chest.
He thrusts gently into my mouth as I press kisses up his length, my tongue sucking on his tip.
“Emmy, fuck, stop, stop . . .” He pulls me back up and hits me with his lustful eyes. “Once we start fucking, we aren’t going to stop. No breaking-the-tension shit. I’m going to have you every day we have together.”
“Promise?”
He smirks. “I don’t have a condom, but I’m just back from a physical. You?”
I nod. “On the pill too.”
“So, we’re doing this?”
I kiss him, and finally he touches me again, his hands palming the back of my skull as his lips devour me.
He’s a man possessed, giving me deep, passionate, hungry kisses that make me weak.
I am lost in him, in this deep need to have him inside me.
His hand touches the top of my mound as a finger glides inside me, testing the wetness. “Dripping for me.”
“More.”
He finger-fucks me, and I gasp out with each exit, itching for more of him, for endless touches. When his thumb brushes my clit, I writhe against him.
He picks me up in his arms, my back against the wall. He thrusts inside me, deep and hard as I cling to his shoulders.
“Emmy,” he breathes as he squeezes my ass. His mouth sucks on my piercing, his scruff making excited tingles erupt over my skin.
There’s no resistance as I accept him. He swivels his hips, finding a new angle, and I adjust. He takes me roughly, checking my eyes for guidance.
“Do you know what it’s like to fuck you face to face?”
“No,” I say around a moan.
“A dream, darling. A fucking dream.”
Sensations spiral over me, a voracious need. And when he uses his pelvis to grind against my clit, I scream, trying for more, to get to the zenith.
“Graham,” a voice says from the door, and I gasp, my eyes flaring wide when Brody pokes his head in.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out,” Graham yells as I dip my head behind his chest to hide.
“Sorry to intrude. Emmy, dear, when we go out the door to leave, does it lock behind us?”
“Um, yes,” I say, my face burning with embarrassment.
“I thought so but wanted to check. Bye, turtledoves. Enjoy.” I hear a chuckle; then the door shuts again.
“You okay?” he asks me with a tender expression.
I nod as his hands move to each breast, playing with my nipples, then up my waist, each touch creating new waves. My breathing grows shallow until I’m dizzy. My legs tighten around his waist.
I shudder as he toys with my nub, pressing down with each stroke inside my pussy.
Over and over.
He fucks me.
Harder.
Wild.
Voracious.
Deep thrusts.
Like he’s trying to crawl inside me.
Until the imprint of the drywall must be on my back.
My body winds tighter and tighter, the sensations building until I’m about to burst. I glance down to watch him slide in and out, my hips thrusting to meet his. He growls, a deep sound, and it makes me skyrocket. My hands claw at his neck as I pull him in for a kiss and dance toward orgasm. It rises and rises, then shatters into beautiful shards, my pussy clenching around his cock as ecstasy tingles under my skin, in my veins. I call out his name, and he groans, kissing me through the vibrations.
“My turn, darling.” He kisses me hard, his hands digging into my hips as he repositions us and increases his rhythm as he pushes inside me with faster thrusts. I can barely keep up, my fingers around his neck as I hang on.
He groans out my name when he comes. Heavy breaths come from his chest as he grapples with the aftereffects, his body shuddering.
Maybe all we have is sex, chemistry, and pheromones that neither of us can resist.
But maybe it’s something more.
I don’t want to be temporary. I don’t want to be pretend. I want him.
He pulls out of me and stumbles to the couch with me still wrapped around him. He kisses my shoulder as I lean on him, snuggling under his chin. I feel his lips brush my hair.
I pat his arm. “That was great, Creamy.” I giggle when he huffs out annoyance. “You may as well accept the nickname. Mine is Darling, and yours is Creamy.”
He twists a strand of my hair around his finger. “You wanna go home and do this again, only with a bed?”
“Mine or yours?”
“Who cares?”
I laugh. “I have to be back at seven to get the store ready.”