Her breath hitches, but she nods, just a small tilt of her head, like she’s giving me permission.
I lower my mouth to her breast, keeping my eyes locked on hers as I wrap my lips around the stiff peak of her dark nipple. She exhales shakily and moans as I swirl my tongue around the sensitive bud.
Her tits require worship in the highest form, and that’s what I do, biting and sucking as her hips jolt, desperate for friction.
Meanwhile, my hand trails down her stomach and between her thighs.
Before I touch her, something nags at me. I pause, stroking her inner thighs.
“Have you been with a man before?”
She pushes onto her forearms, spluttering. “Eli, please tell me you’re not the kind of man who expects virginity.”
Do I want to think of any man—or woman—touching her? No. I want them dead. All of them. I want to erase every hand but mine.
“No,” I say. “But your ex is a woman. So… have you been with men too?”
Her expression softens. “Yes, but not many.”
A flicker of disappointment flashes through me—stupid, primal—but I swallow it.
I kiss her, lowering her back into the pillow, her hair fanning out like a halo.
Then, I finally brush against her clit. God, it’s been too long since I touched her here. Sinking a finger into her, I almost groan at how her pussy sucks me in.
How the fuck will I cope when I’m actually inside her?
I might have to stitch us together so I never have to leave.
Food for fucking thought.
I scissor my fingers while my thumb circles her clit until she’s thrashing, crying out.
I can’t wait a second longer.
Gripping my insanely hard dick, I position myself on my knees, one hand on her hip.
Emily looks up at me with so much trust in her eyes my heart almost cracks open.
I love her.
I’ve known it since the moment I saw her. But now? It’s undeniable.
“I’m fucking you bare,” I tell her, daring her to protest.
She doesn’t. Instead, she grins, licking her lips.
I push inside slowly, inch by inch, savouring the drag of her body welcoming mine. The groan that tears out of me is inhuman.
She clenches around me and I swear we fuse. One body. One breath. One fucking eternity.
Her back arches, head tipping into the pillow.
I pull back, then push forward—not fucking, not rutting—something slower. Something deeper.
I think this is what they call making love.
My mouth finds hers, my arms holding my weight as I move with her, our breaths mingling, tongues tangling.