Without Russ, she wouldn't have broken free of her own limits and come up with the train station plan.
She met his eyes. 'I don't regret it. I know we have to stop when I get a job; I know it's time to move on. But I don't regret what we've done together. Somehow, I think it's exactly what I needed.'
'No regrets?'
She shook her head. 'Not if we can end on good terms.' She meant to say 'end as friends,' but he might choose to be no more to her than an acquaintance.
The thought almost broke her heart.
She brushed the back of her fingers across his cheek, then stroked the side of his neck. 'But I don't have a job yet,' she said suggestively, and pulled him to his feet.
'Are you sure?' he asked.
She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck. She brushed her lips against his. 'No job at all.'
His lips met hers, tenderly. She closed her eyes against his gentleness, so much harder to withstand than brute animal hunger.
'Emma,' he whispered against her lips, 'What am I going to do without you?'
'Suffer terribly,' she said, and kissed him again.
They moved together to her bedroom, stripping the clothes from each other in well-practiced moves. Naked, they slid beneath the sheets and lay on their sides, facing each other.
Emma traced Russ's features with her fingertip, his face expressionless, his eyes watching her every move. When her fingertips trailed away he took the lead, his hand stroking over her body in slow motions, finding the dip of her waist, the hill of her hip, the rise of her breast. She rolled onto her back and he continued his exploration. It was as if they were trying to memorize each other; to form an image that was lodged in the nerves of their fingertips as well as their brains.
Emma closed her eyes when he touched her between her thighs. She parted her legs for him, then felt his mouth move down her torso to replace his hand. He settled between her thighs and lay his warm mouth against her folds, his tongue flicking out to exactly the right spot, in the feather-light touch she'd taught him to use.
There was no embarrassment left in her, no desire to hold back, no guilt over receiving without giving. She gave herself over to the sensations he created, feeling the wetness of his mouth merge with her own flowing warmth.
'Now,' she whispered, reaching down and touching his hair. 'Now.' She was near to climaxing, and wanted him inside when she did.
He moved up her body, poised above her now on his elbows. She reached between them to guide him to her, lifting her hips against him to lodge him in her opening. She moved both hands to his shoulders and met his eyes.
He looked down at her, his expression still inscrutable, and slowly thrust inside her. She raised her knees and hooked her feet behind him, drawing him deeply inside her.
The tension of pleasure tightened his face and he closed his eyes. Emma slid her arms up around his chest and pulled him close, letting him put his weight on her. His thrusts shook the bed, the brass creaking in an unmistakable rhythm.
Emma felt her own sexual excitement plateau as he thrust, his face against the side of her head, his breath hot in her hair. She felt the satisfaction of being beneath him, his thick cock filling her, but it wasn't a pleasure that would bring her to orgasm.
Russ slowed, and lifted himself off her enough to see her face. Still embedded deep inside her, he slowly kissed her. The tip of his tongue traced the line where her lips met, then parted them and sucked on her lower lip.
His hips thrust once, slow and deep.
Emma's eyes closed, her back arching in pleasure.
Russ teased her mouth open, dipping his tongue inside, rubbing against her own. She felt the rough warmth and instinctively sucked on it, just as she would suck on his cock.
His pelvis moved with slow strength, his cock stroking inside her with careful deliberation, as if making certain that each millimeter of her passage knew that he was there and could feel the shape of him.
He thrust his tongue against hers, matching the rhythm to his hips, his movements agonizingly slow and careful. Emma felt her hunger for him grow anew, and she rocked her hips against him and sucked furiously at his tongue.
Russ grasped her hip with one hand and held her still, forcing her to accept the agonizingly slow motions.
Emma could stand only one thrust more, and before he was seated to the hilt she felt herself tip over the edge, orgasm throbbing through her. She could feel him moving back against her G-spot, could feel the clenching muscles at her opening try to grip him, could feel the pull of his movement against the hood of her clitoris.
'Russ,' she cried softly, 'Russ, I can't stop.'
He thrust once more, quickly, and then she heard the moan deep in his throat and felt the pulse of his own orgasm join hers. His body was hard as stone, pinning her in place. As he held motionless inside her she felt her own waves gradually die down, and then he settled upon her, his weight nearly taking the breath from her, his face settling beside hers.
A moment later she heard the soft snort of his snore.
Emma felt tears trickle from the corners of her eyes, seeping down into her hair. They might have sex a time or two more, but in her heart she knew that tonight was the beginning of good-bye.
Chapter Eighteen
Emma violently speared a clam on her fork and ate it, chewing viciously.
'What is it?' Russ asked. 'Emma, you've been quiet all evening. What's bothering you?' There had been a quiet tension to their nights together since the contest event two weeks ago, but nothing like this. Emma had been subdued since his arrival. He'd tried to give her time to say what was bothering her, but plainly this was one of those times that she needed to be asked.
Emma speared another clam, then dropped her fork onto her plate and her face into her hands.
'Emma?'
'I'm okay,' she mumbled, and heaved a heavy sigh. She dropped her hands, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. 'I was offered a job today.'
Russ's gut sank to the floor. So soon? He'd thought they'd have a month more, at least. 'Which firm?' he asked hoarsely.
'Mary Beeton and Associates. It's smallish, but I like her and I think I'll learn a lot from her and her staff. I won't be an anonymous intern doing grunt work. I'll be a known intern doing grunt work.'
'Congratulations.'
Emma's mouth turned down at the corners. 'I should be happy. I
'I wish you'd told me sooner. We could have gone out to celebrate.'
Emma plunked her elbows on the table and covered her eyes with her hands. 'I don't want to celebrate. I want…'
His heart thumped. 'You want…'
'More time.' She dropped her hands and looked at him hopefully. 'We could have a little more time, couldn't we? I don't start for a week.'
A reprieve. Did she find it as hard to contemplate goodbye as he did?
Might she possibly want more from him than this? Tonight was his last chance to find out. 'Emma-'
The door intercom buzzed, interrupting him.
'Were you expecting someone?' he asked.
She shook her head. 'Maybe they buzzed the wrong apartment.'
It buzzed again.
