Chapter 33
Emma
He called me baby.
How can he possibly think I could sleep when he’s holding me like this? And maybe I did when I was sick from the effects of the concussion, but that was then.
This is now.
Electricity buzzes through my body.
If I hadn’t already been half out of my mind for him, his admission that he can’t sleep either and his slow, devastating smile would have taken me the rest of the way.
He shakes his head. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”
“But I’m—” Anything else I was about to say flies from my brain when he stops me with a kiss.
Our second kiss. But the first one that’s just for us.
I thought it might be a desperate coming together, but instead his lips brush over mine in soft aching sweetness, uncertain in their reverence.
A testing. Again. And again. Each swipe lingering a little longer.
But when his tongue flicks out, I can’t hold back. I rub myself against him reflexively, open my mouth on his, and moan, every part of my body aching.
With that movement, with that sound, something in him breaks free.
I’m ravished. I’m ravaged. It’s no longer just a kiss. It’s a claiming, his hands everywhere at once. And sweet Lord, I want it all.
We finally tear apart to breathe, and I stare back at him, dazed shock in my eyes.
He watches me with an intensity that has me back to shy, back to feeling like he’s seeing every part of me, every light and shadow, all I am and all I carry, in a way that no one else has. My body is shivering with anticipation.
He must sense it because he rolls over so he’s above me and runs his knuckles gently along my cheek. “You’re nervous,” he says with a piercing stare.
I nod.
His finger traces my lips. “Why?”
I breathe out a strangled laugh. “This feels so… big,” I admit. “We’ve known each other for so long. And I know everything is changing anyway, and I know this doesn’t have to mean anything but—”
“Fuck that. This means something, Em,” he says roughly as he tilts my chin up so our eyes clash, mine uncertain and his fierce. “Don’t you dare ever think differently.”
“It—it means something to me as well.” It’s scary admitting it. But I’m working on being less cautious and more brave.
At my words, his eyes close. And though it doesn’t seem possible, I wonder if he feels as overwhelmed as I do.
“You don’t know—” He breaks off. “I’m bad at words. I’m just going to have to show you,” he says, and then he’s kissing me again as if I’m all that’s tethering him to a world that’s spinning out of control.
When we finally break apart, panting, he gently lifts my shirt, revealing skin inch by slow inch.
I can barely breathe. I’m amazed that after all these years we’re here, in this moment.
His breath catches when my breasts are finally revealed. His gaze, hot and needy, brands me. My nipples are so tight it’s almost painful.
“Baby,” he says raggedly. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
I gasp when his mouth connects with the tip of my breast. He takes that little bud in his mouth and sucks. Wet heat pools at my center, and I wriggle desperately beneath him. Needing his mouth everywhere.
And bless him, it’s as if he can read my mind because he kisses and licks his way from one breast to the other as if I’m his favorite meal.
And all the while, one of his large hands makes its way down my stomach to play with the top seam of my underwear, so close to where I need him, but still so achingly far away.
I pull off his shirt, admiring the naked chest I reveal.
I’m obsessed with the way the low light plays against the valleys and planes of his muscle, leading down to an impressive eight-pack.
I trail my fingers over every bit of skin on display.
And in the name of being brave, I continue my path to his boxers.
He sucks in a breath when my hand reaches him through the fabric. He’s intimidatingly large. Emboldened by his response, I rub firmer.
“Careful,” he groans, closing his eyes. “You have me way too turned on already.”
“Good.” I reach in to touch him.
He grabs my wrist and drags it above me. Next, he does the same with my other arm. “I have one rule.”
“What is it?”
His brow arches in amusement. “Emma always comes first,” he says, then he drags my panties down, slowly, slowly, kissing every inch of skin that’s revealed.
When I’m bare for him, he positions himself more firmly between my legs, extending my knees apart so he has an even more intimate view. I shift away a bit, biting my lip, feeling vulnerable.
But his eyes are anchors holding me in place, looking up with a fierce possessiveness. “You’re so gorgeous. So wet, baby,” he praises. “And I’m going to make you even wetter.”
There.
“Oh God, do that again,” I beg, forgetting all about any insecurities, closing my eyes at the sensation of his fingers on my most intimate skin.
And then his mouth replaces his fingers. Just the touch of his tongue on my inner thigh has me jolting up. Each lick gets closer to my center and I’m squirming in desperation.
“When we had meetings at the kitchen table and you wore those pencil skirts, I imagined doing this to you.” His voice is darkly erotic.
He’s circling my clit now, with light little licks that tease but don’t give me relief.
His tongue flicks closer and closer to where I want him most. I make a little noise, a mix of all-consuming pleasure and frustration.
He keeps me balanced on the precipice.
When I think I can’t take any more, he pulls back, looking up at my desire-drunk face. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispers.
And then he finally, finally devours me in long, deep, wet strokes of his tongue.
I moan, closing my eyes at the intensity of it. I’m so high, the pleasure is almost painful. “Please,” I beg.
And that one word is all he needs. He pushes a thick finger inside. It fills me, but it’s not enough. He pushes in and out in rhythmic pumps as he alternately licks and sucks.
When his lips connect with my center and he tongues me, I gasp and almost pass out.
And then I’m beyond everything. Beyond thoughts, beyond words, beyond embarrassment and propriety. I ride his face. His talented fingers and tongue tease and fill me until I reach heights I’ve never been to. I cry out, exploding into a thousand pieces, a thousand tiny stars.
When my atoms finally realign and I’m able to draw a breath. When my mind can form a thought, when my eyelids work well enough to open, I see that Sebastian is staring down with a smug, satisfied expression.
“Hi,” I say shyly, shakily. My whole body is tingling.
“Hey.” He grins, still hovering over me.
His eyes turn serious, and he touches the indent at the corner of my mouth. “You have this one tiny dimple when you smile. It makes me crazy.”
The intimacy is almost too intense to bear, so I look up at the ceiling in an attempt to gather actual thoughts.
Then I laugh.
“I can’t believe I’m going to lecture you on what’s appropriate, but it’s not a great time for laughter right now. You’ll make me insecure,” Sebastian murmurs, his mouth quirked up.
“Sorry, sorry,” I say on a giggle. “I’m still a little nervous. It’s you and me. And the naked people on the ceiling staring at us.”
Sebastian turns to glance up. “They really do look like they’re watching. It’s creepy.”
“Can you perform with an audience?” I tease.
His laughter rings out. “It’s not a problem, if you can't tell.” I can feel his enormous erection through his shorts. It makes my sated body pulse in awareness. How is it possible to be turned on and completely satisfied at the same time?
“Take these off,” I demand, dragging down his shorts.
“Come here,” he mumbles, twisting us around until I’m lying on top of him.
I never imagined that sex could be like this. Being swept away by passion. And then laughing like kids. The most erotic experience. And the most fun all combined in one.
God, he’s so hard and big. It’s making me crazy. I need him in my hands. In my mouth. Deep inside me. “This feels a little one-sided. I’m usually the doer. The giver. The overachiever.”
His lip tilts up in the half smile I love. “Are you saying you didn’t like what I just did? Because I have evidence all over my face that says otherwise.”
Laughter erupts from my lips. “I can’t believe you said that.”
I shift so I can reach out and run my long nails down his torso, stopping before I reach his dick. It jumps, as if begging me to reach out. Instead, I circle the sensitive skin around it.
He moans. As a reward, I stroke the length of his shaft. Next, I tease the tip, skin on skin. He’s a combination of silk and steel.
I play with the pre-cum until he’s writhing beneath me and I’m desperate to taste him. I lean down and lick him like a lollipop.
“Fuck, baby,” he mutters. “Your mouth feels so good. But this is going to be all over before it even starts if you keep doing that.”
He flips us over again until he’s leaning over me. Our eyes connect. “Are you sure, Emma?” he asks, suddenly uncertain. “We don’t need to do this. We can wait if you aren’t ready.”
My hand reaches out and I touch my finger to his mouth, as if to stop his words. “I’m ready. I want this.” No amount of nerves or shyness on my part or some sort of misguided scruples on his are going to stop us.
“I want this too,” he says, and my heart turns over at the reverence in his voice.
He reaches over to the nightstand, rips open a condom and puts it on. I watch him, waiting, wanting.
Then he returns and teases me until I’m writhing for him. I gasp as he slowly pushes, all the while never breaking eye contact.
“You’ve ruined me,” he grates out. “I’ll never be able to get enough of this. Of you.”
We’re connected, whole and completely. It’s in the delicious, decadent fullness of his body in mine. But it’s also in the way my heart fills with warmth. It’s in his eyes that close, just for a second, and reopen with wonder. It’s in the mingling of our breaths.
He starts moving in a powerful rhythm, in and out, coming back to me each time, harder, stronger, closer.
He’s everywhere at once. His hand in my hair, his tongue in my mouth, his other hand on my clit between us, and his dick claiming in the most intimate of possessions.
My eyes drift shut. We’re separate, but one. And God help me because this feeling is everything I’ve missed my entire life.
With deep thrusts, he sets a pace that makes me more desperate than I’ve ever been.
“Fuck, Sebastian, yes,” I moan, rocking up to meet him over and over, not able to get close enough. Needing to be merged on an atomic level.
I’m desperate to make it last, to feel this throbbing bliss forever. But I’m too high, balancing on the edge of shattering. It’s like trying to hold back the tide or the coming of the night. Our movements get wilder, less coordinated, and I’m seconds from crashing around him.
“Give me it all, baby,” Sebastian cries.
The wave of it breaks, flinging me into a place of more pleasure and joy than I’ve ever known, the most brilliant flare of a temporary star. His name is on my lips as he follows me across the high of our joining and onto the other side.