Southern Hotshot (North Carolina Highlands 2)

It’s heaven and hell, all at once. She’s so tight I wanna scream. I wanna jackhammer my hips and have my way.

I put the other hand on the floor beside Emma’s torso and lean forward so that I surround her. She’s so little she fits inside the shelter of my body perfectly. I kiss her neck and suck on her shoulder. I gather her slickness on my fingertips and spread it on her nipple, making her pussy flutter around my cock.

“You that close?” I nip at her earlobe.

“The pain,” she replies thickly. “The contrast with your gentleness—it’s hot as hell, Samuel.”

That’s the story her body’s telling too, so I go with it.

She pushes up onto her hands when I am sunk to the hilt.

“Okay?” I ask.

Running her fingers through her hair, she nods. “Start slow?”

I kiss her shoulder blade. “Keep talking to me.”

But it’s her body that does the talking. I do a mini-thrust, a slow in-and-out motion. My free hand still on her clit.

Her pussy flutters again. Stronger this time.

Her arms start to shake.

“Aw, baby,” I murmur against her skin. “You are close. Tell me what you need me to do to get there.”

She opens her eyes. I already said it, they reply. I need you.

I thrust again, a little harder this time. Her tits bounce and her head rears up. My thighs are flush against hers. She cries out when I take my hand off her pussy, but I need to find our rhythm so I can catch her when she falls.

Hand now on her hip, I guide her back and forth in time to my thrusts. We begin to move. I watch my cock glide in and out of her, my skin growing clammy with sweat. Holding back like this takes a fuck ton of effort, but I would rather light myself on fire than hurt Emma.

Plus, I have a feeling her orgasm is gonna be really, really good.

I want it to be her best ever.

Doesn’t take long for Emma to meet me stroke for stroke. She’s eager, athletic, and we set a good, sweaty pace, our bodies slapping with every thrust. When I’m confident she’s okay, I curl my arm around her waist again and hold her tight against me.

I love the feel of her body against mine.

By the way the walls of her pussy clamp down on my dick, so does she.

“I want to see your face when you come,” I say in her ear. “Roll over.”

She obeys, my dick slipping out of her as she settles onto her back. I want to devour her with my eyes, the way her cheeks are flushed, the lines of her belly, but she’s reaching for me, wrapping a hand around my cock and guiding it back to her center.

I smile at her impatience and hike her leg over my shoulder. Sinking inside her, I lean over her and play with her clit.

But it’s when I kiss her mouth that she comes.

Her pussy tightens, milking my dick. She breaks the kiss and closes her eyes, body arching into mine. She cries out, head falling back. Neck bared.

In my arms, she lets go.

I watch, heart in my throat, with my eyes on her face. The sinews of her neck pop against her skin, and I lean down to kiss them. She curls her hands into the muscles on my chest, nails biting into the skin, and the place between my blood and bones sings at the ferociousness of her desire.

She wants to be held so I hold her. I pump into her, my balls tightening. I keep my gaze on her face as she rides out her orgasm.

At last, Emma opens her eyes. They’re stormy, sated. Full.

She’s falling.

I kiss her, and I come, growling into her mouth as my entire being implodes. Pulse after pulse of pounding sweetness I can barely breathe through. But I keep my eyes open and watch her watching me lose my shit.

Emma strokes my face, tucking my hair away from my forehead. The shockwaves flatten me, and for several seconds, my heart stops working even as the pulses keep coming.

The orgasm goes on for forty-eight years.

When my heart finally starts beating again, it feels different inside my chest. Like it’s worked itself into a new shape. Or maybe just untied itself from its perpetual knot.

I let out a breath.

Emma keeps playing with my hair. It feels nice. She smiles.

I do too. A real smile. Because finally, fucking finally, I don’t feel lonely anymore.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Emma

I wake up naked, horny, and sore.

I am sore everywhere—between my legs and inside my chest. The first one isn’t new, but the second one is. My pulse skips a beat.

Oh, God, this feeling. It’s lovely and it’s terrifying, and in the darkness, my heart begins to pound.

I forgot myself with Samuel. I don’t always play the alpha, but my tendencies always show through.