Chapter Sixteen
Kade
I know better than to touch her, but I want to help ground her in the moment and tell her I’m not turning her down for lack of interest - I’m interested, for sure - but out of some deep-seated need to protect her.
My hands hover over her skin, the urge to touch her growing stronger with every breath she takes. I can see her heart beating and feel the heat of her body, she’s so close to me.
It”s clear in the way she looks at me with those sky-blue eyes burning with need, that Emma Riley is tempting beyond reason.
“Kade.” Her voice is soft, yet there”s a steely edge of determination to it. “I know what I want.”
Her words are all the permission my frayed self-control needs. But still, I hesitate. She”s Alex”s little sister; off-limits. And there”s this unshakeable feeling that she hasn”t done this before. I need her to be certain, need her to understand the gravity of crossing this line. If we do this, there’s no undoing it.
Yet, when she squares her shoulders and rises up on tiptoe to press her lips to mine in a way that leaves no room for doubt, I feel myself losing the battle waging inside me.
“Emma,” I whisper against her lips.
“Shut up, Kade.” Her fingers comb throughmy hair and I groan at the sensations.
In a swift motion, I lift her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist, and she clings to me as our kiss deepens. Every movement is hungry and demanding and so damn good. I press her against the wall, loving how she moves. Her hips shift as if trying to encourage me - not that I need encouragement. Every motion of her body is a silent plea for more, and I know without a doubt she wants this as much as I do.
“Bedroom,” she says, the word ending on a gasp as my teeth scrape her throat.
“Bedroom.” I follow the gesture of her hand and try to keep the lust flooding me under control.
We move together through her home, my feet carrying us both toward her bedroom as she kisses me again. With every step, I”m acutely aware of her body against mine, the heat, the connection that”s been building between us for what feels like a lifetime.
As we cross the threshold, I lay her gently on her bed, trying to remind myself to go slow and be gentle with her. I hover above her, savoring the sight of her hungry expression and the anticipation.
“Are you sure?” I ask once more, lowering my head to rest my forehead against hers.
“More than anything,” she whispers, arching her back and lifting her lips to mine.
As I pin her to the soft bed, my mind races as quickly as my pulse. Her skin is flushed with desire, and her eyes are begging me to keep going, but I have to pause, have to be responsible.
“I don”t have any condoms,” I say, needing to check in with her. With a smile, I drag a knuckle down her cheek, “I wasn’t prepared for this.”
Her brow furrows for a moment before she smiles, a hint of mischief dancing in those sky-blue depths. “It”s okay. I have a birth control implant.”
Surprise flickers through me. “But you—”
“Have never done this? True.” She cuts me off and a soft laugh chases her words. “But birth control isn’t only for preventing pregnancy,” she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw as her gaze locks onmine.
“Condoms aren’t just for preventing pregnancy, either.” I’m shocked at how easy this conversation is to have with her. “You should always use a condom, regardless.”
She presses her lips into a thin line, her look telling me she doesn”t need a lesson from me right now, but I worry about her. “I”m well aware of STDs and STIs, thank you. I’m pretty sure I’m clean and I trust you wouldn”t risk sleeping with me if you had anything.”
I nod. She’s one hundred percent correct.
She lowers her voice. “Your pillow talk needs work.”
Her unexpected comment makes me laugh. Even now, when everything feels so intense, so critical, she finds a way to keep things light. It”s one of the countless reasons I”m drawn to her, why I”ve been fighting this battle within myself for so long.
“Guess I”ll have to practice,” I say, and press my lips to hers in a tender kiss.
Pulling back, I let my hands roam over her body, deliberately slow, skimming the hem of her shirt before lifting it gently. I move, my lips following the upward path of her shirt and she rises up on her elbows. Together, we free her of the shirt, then I reach around to free the clasps of her bra, my gaze on hers as I silently tell her she can stop me any time with a word.
When her shirt and bra are off, I take a moment to admire the expanse of her pale skin, shining silky-smooth in the soft glow of her bedroom light.
“Kade,” she whispers, her teeth clamping down on her lower lip.
“Emma Riley,” I whisper back, gently working her pants down her beautiful thighs. Each piece of clothing that falls away reveals more of her, and I commit every inch to memory. The curve of her waist, the rise of her hips, the way she shivers under my touch.
“More.”
I comply, wanting nothing more than to worship her completely.
“Patience,” I say, kissing a trail down her stomach, tasting her skin here and there.
Her soft breathing turns to gasps, and I savor the sound.
I kneel on the floor beside her bed as the last barrier between us skimps past her ankles to the floor. My breath hitches as I take in the sight of her, naked and sweet.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers, it”s all the urging I need.
I lean in, my lips and teeth finding the softness of her inner thigh. She gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair, a quiet plea escaping her lips. Her taste is intoxicating. Slowly, attentively, I explore her with my lips and tongue, savoring the way her thighs tremble and every breathy moan that spills from her.
She tastes like summer and sunshine, like sin and sweets, like my favorite dessert, and I can’t get enough as I run my tongue in long strokes before focusing on the bundle of nerves that makes her whole body tense.
She whimpers, then says, “Please.” I love the way she sounds when she begs. The sound, her words, wake something primal within me.
“Shh, just enjoy it,” I say against her, my voice barely above a whisper. I focus on her pleasure, letting my senses guide me as I bring her to the brink.
I feel the moment my tongue pushes her over the edge; her body arches into mine, gasping moans break from her lips, and I hold her through the pleasure, worshiping her with every flick and swirl of my tongue until she melts onto the bed, spent and breathing heavy.
She exhales as if that’s all she can manage. Her eyes are dazed, her cheeks flushed with the aftermath of pleasure.
“Look at you,” I say, my voice thick with need. “So beautiful.” I trail a finger down the side of her face, watching as goosebumps rush down her arms and across her ribs. “I”ve thought about this, about you, for so long.”
A smile crosses her lips. “Tell me,” she breathes the words, her fingers reaching for me, tracing idle patterns on my arms.
“Every touch,” I say, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, “every kiss,” another to the inside of her other leg, “every dirty dream...” I plant a kiss on the still-pulsing heart of her and she whimpers.
“Show me,” she says, a playful spark lighting up her features.
“Patience,” I tease, even as I ache to give in to her.
I let my fingers skim up her belly, along the valley between her breasts, up to her collar bone as she shivers beneath my touch.
“Please.” She’s pleading with me again, but I”m not sure what she’s asking for, but her voice is filled with a longing I feel wearing down my self-control.
“I want to touch, taste, and kiss every inch of you,” I whisper. “I want to savor every moment.” I’m not in a hurry.
“Then don”t stop,” she says, and there”s a note in her voice that tells me she”s ready for whatever comes next.
“Never,” I say, and I mean it. I know I shouldn”t be making promises, but I want her for good.
I trail kisses down her body, each one leaving her trembling, small whimpers escaping her lips as I touch, taste, nibble, and kiss every inch of her skin before positioning myself over her.
When I finally slide into her, she grips me tight, a perfect fit that steals the breath right out of my lungs. The world narrows to just us, Emma and me, moving together. Her wide eyes are locked on me as I pause, giving her a moment to adjust.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my lips brushing her earlobe.
“Better than okay,” she whispers.
Her hips tilt and her words give me the green light to keep moving. I pull back and push into her, the breath wringing from my lungs as I kiss her neck and nibble on her earlobe, loving how she responds to me. Her heavy breathing and the way her nails dig into my arms leave me wanting more.
As I thrust, her body welcomes me, clenching around me like she won’t let me go. Her back arches and she gasps. I know she”s close again, so I chase her pleasure with mine, determined to give her everything.
I feel her come undone. Her fingers rake through my hair, then grip my shoulders as her body shudders, leaving me on the brink as she squeezes me in a rippling motion that feels better than anything I can remember.
If I keep moving at this pace, it’s going to be over sooner rather than later.
I slow my movements, determined to extend the moment. Her eyes flutter open, a silent understanding passing between us. “Don”t stop...” she whispers in a half-plea, half-command.
“Don’t worry, I won’t. Not yet,” I say through gritted teeth, focusing all my willpower on not reaching my own edge just yet. Her body is still spasming, and her gasping breaths only heighten the pleasure. She’s so beautiful - I’d love to watch her orgasm all day, every day. But I’ll settle for as often as she’ll let me.
I pull back out of her and she gasps, reaching for me as if to pull me back in. But I need to stop now or we’re going to be done for good.
I move off of her and lay back on the bed, trying to talk myself down as she sits up, watching me with that hazy passion of hers. My control frays as she winds her fingers around me, exploring with gentle curiosity that sends waves of heat and desire through me.
“Emma...” I say in warning, but she”s already leaning forward, replacing her hand with her mouth. Her bravery knocks the wind out of me, and for a moment, I”m stunned, lost in the sensation and the sight of her. Her lips grip me as her tongue swirls around the tip, leaving me almost cross-eyeing as I try to hold back.
“What?” She pulls back just enough to say, her sky-blue eyes dancing with mischief. “I was curious how we taste.”
Damn. How the hell am I supposed to hold back with her?
Her words, her touch, her daring—it”s almost too much. But then she”s back, her mouth hot and eager, her hand stroking in tandem as if she’s done this before. A guttural groan rumbles from deep within me, and I thread my fingers through her long, curly hair, marveling at how quickly she adapts, learns, takes control.
“Emma, you”re...” Words fail me; there”s only the sensation and the undeniable truth that she has unraveled me completely.
She pulls back, and crawls over me, her body a sight that leaves my mouth watering. Then she throws a leg over me and grabs me, guiding me into her and sliding down the length of me with a stunned look in her eyes.
I grip her hips, keeping her from moving, because I’m there. “Emma, if you keep going...” My voice trails off, but I think she understands my meaning.
She looks at me, that mischievous glint still in her eyes, and then she”s lifting before lowering slowly, taking me in inch by inch. The view from here is breathtaking—Emma, looking like a goddess, riding me with unabashed wonder lighting up her face.
Her hips buck and shock fills her features as words leave her lips, “That feels so good.”
As she moves, riding me with a wild abandon that leaves me breathless, I feel her tense up and know she’s already at the edge again. There”s no holding back now; her rhythm is relentless, natural, as if she’s made for this—to ride, to take, to conquer. Her eyes lock on mine, wide with the thrill of newfound power, of pleasure, of satisfaction. I”m captivated by every movement, every soft moan that leaves her lips.
“God, Emma, you”re incredible.” I reach up, palming her breasts and earning another gasp from her.
She smiles, a flash of triumph, and then her belly tightens. She clenches around me, her orgasm crashing over her, and it”s all I need to let go, to join her in that blinding pleasure.
I lower my hands to her hips, holding onto her as we both ride out the ecstasy. Then she collapses into me and suddenly, we’re a tangle of limbs and heaving chests. The world outside this room, this bed, dissolves into nothingness. All that matters is Emma—her warmth, her scent, the quick breaths that fill the silence.
I trace my fingertips down her spine, feeling the goosebumps rise under my touch. She shivers, and I hold her closer. The taste of her lingers on my lips and the room cools our overheated bodies.
“Did I... was it good for you?” she whispers, uncertainty flooding her words.
“Better than good,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You are amazing, Emma Riley.”
She snuggles against me, her breath tickling my skin. “I didn’t know it would be like this,” she whispers.
“Me, either,” I say. And it”s the truth. With Emma, everything feels new.
But as I hold her, savoring the quiet intimacy, darkness creeps into my heart. This kind of joy, this perfection—it can”t last.
Reality is waiting, ready to slap us down for our actions. I push those thoughts away, focusing instead on Emma”s gentle curves, the way our bodies fit together, the undeniable rightness of this moment.
“Stay with me,” she whispers, her words almost too quiet to hear.