Chapter 43
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
ASPEN
When Emmett pulls the hoodie away from his face, his stare is deadly. Deadly hot. Any trace of annoyance over the flat tire, the mental fatigue that was clinging to him after the day, melts away until the only thing left is wanting.
And it’s all for me.
My hands slip below the hem of my dress and I hook my thumbs into the sides of my panties before shimmying them over my hips. Bending, I free them from around my ankles and sling them his way.
“Consider those a freebie.”
Without missing a beat, he slips them in his pocket.
“Take off the dress, Aspen.”
I slip the strap off one shoulder, then the other. When it catches on my waist, I take my time working it over each hip, before letting it pool around my ankles.
For a moment, Emmett just looks, his eyes locked and intense.
“Let me thank you for today.”
“And how do you plan to do that?”
“Climb on my face and I’ll show you.”
Just like that, he steals every thought from my head and he damn well knows it. When he whips his shirt off and moves down the bed, motioning me over, I’m helpless to resist.
When I don’t move, he reaches out a hand. “I’m not known for my patience, Angel.”
His palm snags the back of my thigh and then he’s dragging me toward him. “It’s been a long day, and I’m starving.”
My thighs hit the edge of the bed.
“Give me what I crave.”
I don’t resist, lifting a knee to the mattress. “It’s so hot when you beg.”
“You know what else is hot?” His hands don’t leave me, brushing everywhere he can reach as I crawl to him. “Your sweet, wet cunt.”
My face heats about a hundred degrees. “Relentless.”
His knuckles drag along my jaw. “When I want something . . . and I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you.”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
I hesitate, stilling beside him as I overthink the hell out of, well, all of this—what he’s saying, the logistics of it. What he’s asking might be more vulnerable than anything I’ve done with a partner. As badly as I want it, there’s a moment of questioning.
He picks up on it. He always does.
“Straddle my chest.”
I bite my lip, but do as he says.
“Perfect. Lift your hips and scoot forward.”
Again, I follow his instructions.
“Fuck, you’re pretty. All pink and wet, just begging for my mouth.” Puffs of heated breath hit my core.
“Now what?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Now you sit.”
He makes it sound so simple. I’m just supposed to smoother him to death like there is not anything to be shy about. His hands glide over my hips, kneading my cheeks and urging me to lower.
“Sit, Aspen. Give. It. To. Me.” The way he looks up at me and the pointed break between each word snaps my self-doubt.
His mouth is on me the second I give in, his deep, satisfied groan rumbling through me. He’s frantic, and I think I finally understand why it’s called eating. There’s teeth and tongue and so much hunger as he devours me whole.
The urgency is on another level. I’m soaring, climbing higher and higher with each stroke of his tongue.
My moans come loud and fast, and only makes him more enthusiastic. I’m afraid he’s going to pass out. This is most definitely strenuous.
“Emmett,” I cry out, lifting my hips to check in.
His response comes with a slap on my ass, making me yelp in surprise. He yanks me back down, rubbing the stinging flesh as his tongue spears me—fucks me like that all while caressing my ass. Then his hand sinks between my cleft, stroking my back hole with his finger.
“Holy . . . Oh s-shit,” I sputter. “Yes.”
He takes that as the enthusiastic consent it is, letting his palm wander up the curves of my body, wrapping around my throat and jaw until it’s waiting, palm up, in front of my lips. I know exactly what he wants without him having to ask.
I spit, shocked at my complete lack of pause. Then my brain goes offline entirely when he rubs the saliva between my cheeks and starts pressing his finger, breaching the tight muscle just slightly.
Between that and the way his tongue works me, it’s dizzying.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please. More. I’m there.”
So, so there.
I want it so bad. My skin buzzes. My head swims.
I chase and chase, bucking against his face as the pressure from his thumb increases, stretching me. I let my hands join the mix, one plucking my nipple, one circling my clit.
Stars burst and I come hard. It’s almost too much, and yet, I never want it to end, rocking on his face through every wave.
When I still, he helps me shift off him, and I crumble to the bed beside him.
Lying there, my heart pounding, I take stock of him. His face shines with the evidence of what we just did, his eyes are hooded, and the crooked smile that tips his lips is smug. I’m about to smack him for being so arrogant when I see his bandage barely hanging on to his burned shoulder.
“Oh, shit.” I roll, carefully rubbing down the edges of it. “Are you okay?”
He glares up at me. “Never been better.”
“Your shoulder.”
“What shoulder?”
“Not funny.”
“It’s fine. Didn’t even notice.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Did it seem like I was in pain from the way I ate your pussy just now?”
No, it did not.
But I wouldn’t put it past him to hide how he’s really feeling.
“We shouldn’t have . . .”
I’m on my back staring up at the roof and confused how I got there when Emmett crawls over me.
“You’ve never seen me at my best. There are plenty of ways you could hurt me . . . that was not one of them.”
A thrill races through me. I don’t look at Emmett and see a weakness or his past. I see strength through the worst of circumstances.
Emmett pins me down, kissing me hard, his tongue invading my mouth, sharing my taste. He pulls back, the intensity in his stare enough to melt snowcaps.
“Thank you for coming with me today.” Each word is a whisper over my skin, so earnest and grateful that my eyes prickles.
It’s not what I expected, but it does something to me, my heart squeezing in my chest. I’m afraid to speak, though, fearing I’ll say something that will spoil all of this.