“Emery,” I moaned, my voice cracking as he milked me, the pressure, the rhythm, the way his thumb slid over my crown all perfect. “The fuck are you doing?”
“You thought all the wrong things that night you kissed me.”
I did? I had?
“And that’s on me,” he said solemnly as he leaned in, inhaling deeply. “Because it’s been so long since anyone has asked me what I wanted… that I’m out of practice.”
What he wanted?
“Look at me.”
My eyes fluttered open, and I was lost, stunned by the dark depths of his gaze, pupils blown wide as he bit his lip, stroking my flesh in his warm fist.
“You wanted me the night you kissed me,” he said roughly, both his voice and breath ragged. “Do you still?”
There was only the truth now, no more lies. I couldn’t bear to tell him one more, and I wasn’t sure if it was even possible with his hand on my cock. “Oh, yes,” I ground out.
“Good,” he growled, and the sound of him, all gruff and sexy, sent sizzling heat down my spine. “Because I’m dying to touch you.”
He wanted me, and I wasn’t proud of the whimper that came out of me, but he must have liked it, because I got a smile that was wicked, one I’d never seen before, and then he kissed me hard enough to make me open my mouth and groan.
I had no idea Emery Dodd could deliver a kiss that would nearly send me to my knees. I felt it, like a pinball bouncing around under my skin, lighting up everything it touched, every part of me, and I understood that I’d never been kissed like that, ever, even once before in my life.
The last time I’d kissed him, in my rush to lay claim, I’d missed that he wasn’t responding to me, wasn’t kissing me back.
This was not the same.
He devoured my mouth, his tongue rubbing over mine, tasting all of me, and I could feel his yearning, his desire, and the surprise of absolute possessiveness. The demand was there, in the kiss, for me to give in, for my submission, in his hand up under my t-shirt, torturing my nipples, in his thigh pressed between mine and the weight of him pushing against me as I arched my hips against him.
I shuddered as his hand slid down my abdomen, mapping my skin, his touch and his lips making me boneless and aching and needy before he broke the kiss and went to his knees in front of me. His eyes lifted to mine as he dragged my sweats and underwear to my ankles slowly, holding my gaze.
“Emery,” I choked out his name as my straining, already dripping cock bounced free, and he took hold of me, stroking tenderly but firmly.
“Oh, Brann,” he moaned, “this is as beautiful as the rest of you.”
I’d been told I was thick and long, but never beautiful, and I felt my face heat because it was embarrassing and hot at the same time. When he swallowed me to the root in one smooth, fluid motion, no gagging, just sucking my cock as though there were nothing in the world he’d rather be doing, my brain finally made the connection that Emery Dodd certainly knew what he wanted.
I reached for him, my hands buried in his thick, silky, brown hair that curled around my fingers, following his lead, his motion, slowly fucking his mouth.
Holy God, he felt good. The suction and his tongue with the barest hint of his teeth, his fingers wet with saliva, squeezing my balls and sliding under them and back, slowly, maddeningly, until he was there at my entrance, fingering me gently but deliberately—almost brought me to climax far too quickly.
“Emery,” I rasped, my voice sounding thick and labored to my ears.
He swallowed around my cock, wedged there in the back of his throat, and another finger joined the first in my ass, pushing and stretching, the assault tender but unremitting.
The message was clear, his agenda obvious. He wanted inside of me.
It was a surprise. I’d never bottomed. It had never occurred to me. All my life I’d been in bed with men who expected me to take charge, expected me to hold them down and deliver the rough or gentle fuck they begged for. I had assumed if I was ever lucky enough to get Emery into my bed that he’d be shy, unsure, and I’d have to be gentle and patient with him as I showed him how amazing sex with a man could be. Apparently, though, Emery already knew. And Emery wanted something from me I’d never given anyone before—my submission. What surprised the hell out of me was how much him knowing what he was doing, knowing what he wanted, was turning me on. That, and his mouth. I’d never been so close so fast.