The sight of him, the sound of their bodies meeting. The fact she couldn’t move given the grip he had on her hip. It kept her focused on the one place she felt everything.
“Connor,” she cried, feeling her orgasm bear down on her. “Please.”
“Look at me, Em,” he growled.
When her eyes met his, the look she saw in them sent her over the edge.
Fuck.
Nothing had ever felt better than Emerson coming around his dick, but once she’d caught her breath, he slid out anyway because if he didn’t, he was going to come…and he didn’t want to. Not yet. Not while they were both in the mood to explore each other without any kind of barrier between them.
“Connor,” she sighed.
He ran his thumb along her cheek. Yeah, he definitely didn’t want to come yet because he wanted to keep that look on her face for as long as he could. The look that told him she was right there with him. The one that said she was fuck-drunk on him and wanted more.
Her lips were soft, pliable. And it was tempting to slide back inside her and finish. “You good, Em?” he asked.
“I’m better than good by quite a large margin.”
He took her hand, helped her down from the stool, and spun her so she faced away from him. He slid the straps of the dress from her shoulders, taking a moment to cool his heels. It was a snug fit over her hips, and he appreciated the way she wiggled to help him drop it to the floor.
And then she was naked apart from the heels. Her back to him, he could see the curve of her hip, the roundness of her ass, the length of her tanned legs looking as sexy as all hell in her deep red heels.
When she widened her stance slightly and glanced over her shoulder to look at him, he realized he was well and truly sunk for her.
“You look fucking perfect, Em,” he said.
She smiled. Smiled at him like the sun rose and set with him.
He slid his jacket off and placed it on the back of the stool. All the while, her eyes were on him. Slowly, he removed the cuff links and reached alongside her to place them on the counter. The shirt buttons were next.
“Can I help?” Emerson asked.
Connor shook his head. “You touch me now and I’m going to bend you over that counter and take you until you can’t stand.”
Even as he said the words, the vision of her, face down on the poured concrete surface, his hand in her hair, filled his mind.
He slipped out of his shirt and made fast work of the rest of his clothes until he stood naked behind her.
As exposed as he’d ever felt.
His dick ached to be inside her, but he allowed it to slide between the cheeks of her ass, savoring the softness of her naked skin against his.
Emerson sighed and let her head drop back against his chest.
Her neck called to him, and he pressed a train of gentle kisses and soft bites along it. Connor spanned her waist, sliding his hands until he cupped her breasts. Pert nipples teased him, and he suddenly wanted them in his mouth.
“Hold on,” he said, lifting her into his arms.
“Wait, what?” she said and then squealed. “Oh.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his chest…and suddenly the bedroom seemed too far away.
Instead, he laid her down on the blue rug in the living room. “I can’t wait,” he gasped as he raised her feet to his shoulders and slid back inside her.
Still so wet from her earlier orgasm, she offered little resistance, but the position made everything feel so tight. He’d had sex before. Plenty of it. But this, with Emerson, was different.
“Em,” he gasped.
Her hands were over her head. Her breasts bounced as he thrust into her. She was so uninhibited, so…in sync with him, he felt almost delirious.
Gently, he lowered her legs to either side of his hips and slipped off her shoes. As he lay down over her, he pushed himself deep inside. “Tell me you feel this, Em,” he said gruffly. “Tell me you feel the connection between us.”
Emerson placed her hands either side of his face, and while his friends would probably call him a pussy, he felt so cherished. “I feel it. I’ve felt it for a while.”
He rolled them onto their sides, remaining deep inside her, and kissed her tenderly. Softly. With his hand twisted up in her hair, he held her to him. His body wanted to move, to continue whatever this was until he was completely spent.
But his heart needed a minute. Sixty seconds to process just how much she meant to him. He should probably say something. Perhaps explain why he suddenly felt like he’d just been poleaxed. Instead, he kissed her again. Passionately. Messily. And they began to move. He withdrew from her mouth and drove himself home. Emerson tilted her hips towards him, meeting him.
She was so wet and warm and ready for him. They fit together in every conceivable way.
“Em,” he said, rolling them so she was on her back again, so he could pin her to the rug and thrust into her.
Sweat rolled between her breasts, between their stomachs. “I’m going to need you to come soon,” he gasped. Taking his weight on one arm, he slid his hand between them, circling her clit, applying the pressure he knew she loved.
“Yes, Connor,” she cried, one hand around his neck, the other holding on to his arm.
His orgasm built, the tightening of his balls, the juggernaut currently steaming down his spine. His head spun, but he kept his eyes on Emerson. Watching as her mouth opened in shock, as she held her breath and then gasped as she tightened around his dick.
It was all he needed to let go and join her, pulse after pulse in glorious agony.
His whole body shook
