44. Chapter 44
Chapter 44
Zack
I should be exhausted, considering Emilie and I stayed up until almost four in the morning talking about Brooks, my family, and Eliza standing up to her mom, but I'm not. Well, maybe I’m emotionally tired after going through all the family stuff, but whatever toll it took, Emilie’s affection made up for it.
When we weren’t talking, we were kissing. I’m so gone for this woman; I don’t know if I'll ever get enough of her. She’s like an ocean I’d happily drown in.
The last day has been something I never could’ve planned for, with unanswered questions and uncertainty for the future. How are my parents? How will Riley take it? Will Brooks be part of our lives in some way?
There’s no answers for me to find today. These questions, and the ones I haven’t even thought of, will be waiting for me back in New York.
Now, we’re on the dance floor at the wedding reception. Emilie is wearing that fucking dress from our shopping date, dusty purple and flowy. Mitch and Eliza, all newly married and adorable, haven’t left each other’s side since the “you may kiss the bride.”
Emilie’s parents behaved today, and by that, I mean they didn’t really say much. But they didn’t say anything inappropriate or make anyone feel bad, so I think that’s a win.
The ceremony was beautiful, the weather was on point, and the vibes were immaculate. I've not thought a lot about marriage or where I’d want to get married, but right now, it’s hard to beat the beach.
Time with Emilie is hard to beat.
Her arms are wrapped around my neck, her head on my chest, and I pull her close to me as we dance to a slow song. My fingers dance along her lower back and the top of her ass, like we’re the only people in the room.
Fuck, I wish that were true.
“What are you thinking about?” Emilie asks, lifting her head off my chest.
I laugh and look at the ceiling, at the fabric and twinkly lights above us, before putting my eyes on hers. “I was thinking about how this dress looks fucking perfect but I can’t wait until we’re alone and I tear it off you.”
“What if I say you can only use your teeth.”
I find her earlobe, nipping it before whispering, “Game on.”
And then she grabs the back of my neck and puts a crushing kiss to my mouth.
We speed walk back to the room—no complaints here. When I swing the door open, letting Emilie inside first, she turns and stops a few steps ahead. The door shuts behind me as she lifts her arms up slowly with a mischievous grin.
“You can use your hands now if you promise to use your teeth later.” Her voice is devilish and greedy.
My dick comes to life at the sound of her voice telling me what to do .
“Careful what you ask for,” I growl while my hands find the dress zipper along her side. My hands reach over the fabric, touching her bare skin. With a single motion, I rip the zipper and then use another to pull the fabric apart.
Emilie moans in response, and her arms stay where they are. I grab the skirt of the dress, bunching the fabric, before lifting it up and over her arms.
I’m frozen. Taking her in, from head to toe. Her tits are bare, her nipples perfectly pink, and her skin a beautiful contrast to the gray lacy thong.
“What’s wrong?” she asks timidly, looking down at herself and then back to me.
The question catches me off guard. “Nothing is wrong. What are you talking about? I’m just trying to let my brain catch up.” I take in all the smooth skin on display in front of me. The curves of her hips and ass are making me fucking salivate.
There’s too much space between us so I step in closer and she throws her arm around my neck, our lips crashing. I lift her up and she wraps her legs around my waist, like she can read my mind. When she feels my erection against her, she groans into my mouth.
That groan.
The most perfect fucking sound.
My hands grip her ass, the skin soft and tantalizing, and my tongue sweeps across the seam of her lips—it’s like she's the breath I've been dying to take.
I walk her to the bedroom, her fingers tangled in my hair. I bite her lip and she pulls my hair in response.
“You told me to use my teeth,” I tease into our kiss.
I’m at the side of the king size bed when I toss her onto the mattress. Her hands immediately feel up her body, stopping at her perfect tits. When she rolls her nipples in her own fingers, I’m about to come unglued.
I hover my body over hers, my knees pressing into the bed on each side of her thighs. I replace her hands with mine, before my mouth gets to work. Emilie cries out when I flick her nipple with my tongue while squeezing the other with my fingers.
Her back arches off the bed, and her hips try to meet mine when I go from sucking to light biting, changing the pace and the pressure.
Fuck, this is a dream.
Emilie pushes me back and bunches my shirt in her hands.
“Too many clothes,” she whines and then helps with the buttons. I toss my shirt to the floor, and Emilie uses her fingernails to rake down the front of me, her fingers touching my core.
She sits up as I lean back, and she has her hands on my belt. It’s a joint effort when we get my pants unzipped and she puts her hands on the inside of my briefs’ waistband. She teases me, making sure to lick her lips the second my eyes catch hers. My pants are down and it’s just my dick straining against my briefs.
“Off,” she pleads with her voice husky and full of breath.
“Only if you touch yourself,” I barter.
And what does my girl do? She lays back and slowly puts her fingers over the charcoal lace of her panties. Emilie bites her lip and closes her eyes while she rubs over the fabric.
“Tell me how wet you are for me, baby,” I urge, putting my hands on my hips, because I’m about to start stroking my cock or touching her, and I don’t want to rush this. We’ve waited long enough.
Emilie pulls her knees up, bending them and giving me more of a view. Her finger dips into herself, under the fabric, and my mouth is watering. Electricity sparks and sizzles on my skin, trying to be patient.
She moans as she inserts another finger .
“Come feel for yourself,” she baits me without opening her eyes or moving her fingers.
I take my mouth and blow close to her center before biting the top of her panties and pulling them down to her knees, my mouth so close to her clit. She’s still touching herself and seeing her fingers buried inside make me lose it.
I hold myself up but use my tongue with her fingers. She tastes sweet and I'll never get enough of this.
“Fucking soaked for me.” My voice is low and rocky.
Emilie tries to hum a response but her back bucks off the bed when I use my tongue on her clit.
One of my hands runs up her thigh, and I use the other to remove her hand and slowly insert a single finger. Pulling it out, painfully slow for the both of us, I change the position of my mouth and pick up the pace of my tongue.
“More,” she begs.
I insert two fingers this time but still refuse to match the pace of my tongue.
Emilie cries out, “Zack! I’m close,” and hearing her say my name like that has ruined me for everyone else.