Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
EMMA
He lowers me to the floor as I slide my hands down his shirt, slowly unfastening each button. His jaw is tight as he watches my progress, his gaze dark. When his shirt is finally gaping open I allow myself to stare unashamedly at him, taking in the smooth muscles of his chest, the ripples of his stomach, that line of hair that runs to his pants, disappearing behind his waistband.
“Can I take your top off?” he asks. He sounds a little like somebody’s strangling him, even though my hands are way too busy tracing the lines of his pectoral muscles.
I nod and hold my hands up as he pulls the cover up over my head, discarding it on the floor. His shirt quickly follows, and we’re both standing there, half exposed.
His eyes drink me in.
“When I saw you in this bikini earlier I nearly exploded in my pants.” His voice is husky.
I smile. “That would have made a super uncomfortable bachelor party.”
“I shouldn’t have gone,” he says. “I should have dragged you back here and thrown you on the bed.”
My lips part. “And then what would you have done?”
He leans forward to trace the outline of my breasts. Then his fingers slide to my back, the tips brushing my skin as he unknots my bikini.
“What I’m about to do to you now.”
“Then I’m glad you didn’t,” I say. And for a moment he looks uncertain. “Because I like it now. Here. It’s how it’s supposed to be.”
His gaze flickers to mine and then he pulls my bikini top off, exposing my breasts to the cool airconditioned room. His eyes are wide, needy. I love how he looks at them. At me.
Like I’m a work of art he’s desperate to own.
“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” he says roughly, cupping the swell of my breasts with his warm palms. My nipples are so hard it’s almost painful. Then he brushes them gently with the pads of his thumbs and it makes me arch my back for more.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Please what?” He barely touches them again. So I push my chest harder against him.
“Are you going to make me beg?”
He gently kisses my lips and I swear this one is even hotter than the last. “I want you to tell me what you want. I want to give it all to you but you have to tell me.”
“I want your mouth on me,” I tell him. “I want to feel your tongue against my nipples. I want your teeth scraping against them.”
His gaze is warm. “Everything,” he tells me, echoing my words earlier. “You get everything. You just have to ask.”
Oh this man is a giver. And I don’t think I’ve heard anything more erotic in my life. Maybe because I’m a giver too.
“Take your pants off and kiss my breasts.”
His smile is wider. “Gladly.” He unbuckles his belt, his fingers deft as he slides the pants down his thick, muscled thighs, kicking them off until he’s only wearing a pair of dark shorts, the thickness of his erection outlined at the front.
Before I can reach for him he lifts me up and throws me onto the bed, then crawls over me, his eyes on mine before dipping his head to my chest.
And… oh…. God. His mouth is everything. It’s warm and teasing. He sucks and licks and bites my nipple, his other hand playing with my other breast, like he’s a man who likes to be fair. I tangle my fingers in his hair, my nails scraping his scalp as he continues to suck with the right amount of pressure to send jolts of electricity into my core.
I start to roll my hips, need making me seek out pressure against the achiest part of me. I find his thigh, so I start to grind against it, as he moves to my other breast, his lips soft, his tongue insistent, his teeth gentle as they scrape against me.
“Brooks.”
He looks up. He looks almost dazed. Like my breasts have hypnotized him.
“I need…”
“What do you need.”
I take a deep breath. “I need to touch you.”
The smile he gives me is so unexpectedly dazzling it makes my heart ache. And I take it as a yes, sliding my hands down his rock hard stomach, my fingers teasing the waistband of his shorts before I push them down, feeling the tautness of his skin, before I curl my hands around him.
Oh, he’s big. And so hard that he feels like perfection in my hand. I give him a pump and he lets out a groan, then starts to kiss my breasts again.
I’m not sure I ever want him to stop. But he does and I let out a complaining sigh before he pulls out of my grasp, my hand feeling empty, and moves down my body until his mouth is pressed against my stomach.
His hands pull my thighs apart, before he pulls at the strings on my hips, until the bows unfasten and the little triangle at the front and back are useless at covering me up.
“I fucking love this bikini,” he tells me.
He looks up, his gaze catching mine. I nod and he smiles.
Then the smile dissolves as he takes a long look at my body. Naked and exposed to him. He kisses the soft skin of my inner thigh, then the other, before kissing my hips.
I slide my fingers into his hair again. I love how silky and thick it is. I love the way he groans when I scrape my fingers against his scalp.
I could so easily love him.
Oh, the truth of it hits me like a mack truck.
Before I can think about it anymore, he reaches out to touch me. The tip of his finger traces the seam of me, until I part for him.
“Tell me where you want my mouth,” he says gruffly, still looking at me there.
“Between my thighs,” I whisper.
“Be specific.”
Oh, he’s a little bit bossy. I bite down a smile. “On my pussy.”
“Good girl.”
At first I can barely feel him. And I know he’s doing it on purpose. Teasing me, making me rock against him. Making me beg.
And I’m not ashamed to beg. I want to. I love the way his jaw tightens when I do. The way he looks at me like I’m the biggest prize.
“I need you,” I whisper.
“You’ve got me.”
Oh, could this man be anymore perfect? My eyes roll back as he runs his tongue along me, tasting me, then closes his mouth around my clit.
My own lips part as he sucks, his hands holding my thighs apart as he eats me like I’m his favorite meal. My breath shortens as he pulls me between his teeth, his tongue lashing at me, his mouth sucking me until my fingers are scraping against his scalp as I groan out his name. As though he can feel how close I am, he slides a finger inside me, groaning as I clench around him as he continues his onslaught of my clit.
A second finger follows. And I’m on the edge of delirium right now. Every cell inside of me feels like it’s vibrating with need. Pleasure coils in my stomach, ready to unfurl at the slightest touch.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, as he curls his fingers, his knuckles hitting a spot I didn’t even know I had. “Please don’t stop.”
“Not planning on it,” he murmurs against me, as he pushes his free palm down firmly on my lower stomach. At first I think it’s to stop me from squirming, but then he twists his fingers inside me again, his mouth so beautifully teasing as he sucks at me, and the pressure of his hand on me sends my senses soaring.
My eyes are so wide I’m not sure they’ll ever shut again. The build up to pleasure is unimaginably good. My nipples are hard, my skin is on fire, and every part of me is on the precipice.
And then I start to fall.
I call out his name as I arch my back, even his hand on my stomach is no match for the electric spasms rocking my body as my orgasm erupts through me. It’s not just confined to one place. It’s all over me. In my voice as I cry out, in my skin as it tingles with delight, between my legs as he gently sucks me until I regain my breath.
I lace my fingers into his hair again as he looks up at me. His lips glisten with my pleasure.
“I need you,” I tell him.
“Still got me.” His eyes don’t leave mine as he climbs over me again. He kisses me with lips that still taste of me and I don’t care, because I do need him. Everywhere. I don’t want to stop kissing him. I don’t want to stop feeling his weight on me.
I reach for him, feeling the silky skin of his cock stretched out over the steel core. He lets out a low groan as I run my thumb over his glans, a wet bead of precum clinging to him.
“Condom,” he murmurs. “I need to get one.”
And it’s stupid, but the fact he brought it up first. The fact protection isn’t a discussion, it’s a prerequisite almost slays me.
For the first time in my life I feel like somebody is taking care of me. My throat feels so tight I can barely breathe.
“There are some in the drawer,” I tell him. “They must have put them in every tent.”
He reaches over, pulling out a foil packet, before ripping it open. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“Absolutely.” I reach for him, kissing him softly. He lets out a little sigh against my lips as he rolls the condom on. Then he kisses me again, tenderly, his tongue taking its time to taste mine, as I feel the thick head of him nudging against me.
My heart hammers as I feel myself part for him. He blows out a mouthful of air.
“So damn good,” he grunts, when he’s only partially inside me. “Give me a moment…”
I kiss him again. I’m not sure I can ever stop. I want to hold him forever. I want to feel him inside me forever. “Fuck me,” I whisper in his ear. “Fuck me hard.”
“Jesus, Emma. You want this to be over before it’s begun?”
“We’ve got all night.”
He dips his head until his brow is pressed against mine, our eyelashes fluttering together as he slowly slides himself in to the hilt.
I’ve never been so full before. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same person again. I feel like I’m changing beneath him. A caterpillar metamorphing into a butterfly.
“I adore being inside you,” he murmurs, as he pulls out and thrusts in again, his body pressing against me in all the amazing ways. And yes, I’ve only just come down from one orgasm, but I can feel another starting to burn within me. What if I never stop?
But this has to be about him. This man who never opens up yet right now looks so sensually vulnerable it makes my chest ache.
“I adore you being inside me,” I whisper, as he thrusts once more and it sends my pulse soaring. “Don’t ever stop.”
“I’m not sure I can promise that,” he tells me, kissing me again. “I’m about two seconds away from coming so hard I’m not sure I’ll be able to see for days.”
I smile beneath his kiss. “Come for me,” I whisper. “Come in me.”
“You first. Touch yourself.” He takes my hand, slides it between us, then puts his own on either side of my shoulders, lifting himself so we can both look down and see him sliding in and out of me. I reach down and start to move my fingers against myself, but I don’t really need to. Because in less than a minute I’m tightening around him, telling him I’m coming.
Feeling the whole world burn around us.
“Emma.” It’s a growl and I love it. A second later he joins me in oblivion, his body stilling above me as he starts to spill inside me. He leans down, kissing me, his eyes wide open as they stare into mine.
And I was right. Nothing will ever be the same again. I’ve never felt so connected. So adored. So desirable.
Being under this man feels like I’m on top of the world. And I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that.