The idea of kissing Ethan, pouring all this need bubbling and boiling inside me into him, makes me ache. I stand on my tiptoes, my hand touching his where it lingers on my face. I pull his fingers to my lips, kissing the fingertips, and then I press my lips to his bottom lip. Then I sweep my lips over Ethan’s upper lip, and I finally close my lips over his, taking his mouth as mine.
But whatever passion I have is exponentially multiplied in his movements. First Ethan traps my head in his hands and kisses me so fervently that my feet drop to the ground. I’m pressed helplessly against him. I can’t breathe, and I inhale him, our lips dancing together, tongues against tongues. His claiming kiss, his possessive hold, makes my brain melt in the fire erupting over my skin.
Never did I think a kiss could so utterly capture me and draw out every ounce of pleasure in my body like this one has. My pulse is fast, the needle of the pace ready to crack glass inside me. Because I’m shattered at Ethan’s kiss. One of his hands drops down to dip under my shirt. His fingers against the small of my back make me shiver with need.
“Emmaline, fuck,” Ethan says in a low, dangerous voice. I can feel the heat of the moment pulling us into something wicked. The spiraling, pooling vortex of heat sucking us in makes the air crackle with the raw lust, and I know there’s no stopping this now.
His mouth is on my neck, and I pull him close in my arms, moaning at his every touch. I feel him bring his lips lower, sliding into my shirt, under my bra strap. Every little invasion with and pressing of his lips to my skin makes the pressure inside my stomach even more intense. It builds low in my belly and feels like a hot river of lust sliding down my pussy. I ache for him. It literally hurts, I need him so bad, and I cry out when his teeth contact my skin. “I need you so much,” I whimper. “Please, please,” I groan.
Ethan
Emmaline is begging me, and she has no clue how much she’s waking the beast within me. I’m charming when I need to be, and that’s who I’ve been now. I told myself I’d resist her.
Not a fucking chance.
Emmaline is mine now.
I press my hands up into her shirt and move them up to squeeze the cups of her breasts. She’s melting in my hands, whimpering for me. She can’t know what this does to me. I’m not going to be able to stop if I start to take her the way I want to.
I can’t fuck this girl. I won’t.
But I have to taste her.
I kiss her deeply, feeling her yield to me. My cock is so hard, pressed between us and feeling her soft little body all over me. The scent of her fills the air and consumes me, deleting my every resistance.
There’s no resistance in Emmaline. She craves me as much as I crave her, and that’s a volatile combination. One I can’t wait to feel.
I move my lips to her neck, dipping my hands down to her pants and undoing them. Before she gets a different idea, I lay her against my desk and pull off her pants and press my face between her thighs.
I expect some degree of resistance. My face is right at her pussy now and I look up into her eyes, and my cock is harder than a fucking diamond when I see that look in her eyes.
Hunger, lust, desire, all directed at me. I want to give her everything she wants, and I don’t think she even knows exactly what she wants from me. I feel that the trepidation in the air has nothing to do with me.
Poor Emmaline’s never had a real man before, and I’m about to show her what that’s like.
I press my mouth to her clit, my tongue lapping over it. I watch her face. Emmaline’s eyes look like they’re going to pop from her head, they go so wide. She sighs loudly, the sensation of my mouth on her pussy dragging sound from low in her throat.
I bring two fingers to her pussy and stroke the soft lips, feeling how wet she is for me, then slide my tongue up and down her slit.
Her head falls back, her eyes rolling back as she gives herself to my touch. Emmaline’s hands grip the edge of my desk, holding on for dear life like she might fall off.
Not a chance, princess.
“C-can I hold your face while you do that?” Emmaline asks breathlessly.
No way anyone has ever eaten her pussy before. What a damn shame, as this is the nectar of the fucking gods down here. Her pussy is so goddamn delicious, and soft, I think I’d kill to taste it for another second.
But I don’t have to because Emmaline wants me down there. She has no idea just what she’s in for right now, either. “Yeah, you can touch me, Emmaline,” I say, the words harder to say than I realize. Her sweet innocence is vicious against my experience … when I eat a girl’s pussy, it's nothing like this. She’s into it, and she’s driving her hands into my hair and making the whole circus array of noises when I make her cum. But sweet Emmaline wants to know if she can touch me. She has no idea just how deep she’s already penetrated my being. How much I need her.
Her hand touches my face almost tentatively, worshipfully, before she puts her hands in my hair. Emmaline is so gentle, so soft, so giving, it fucking undoes me.
“Your pussy tastes so good,” I hum against her skin.
I think maybe this will freak her out, make her shy.
No such thing. Emmaline keeps surprising me, and it makes me crave her more.
“Your tongue makes me feel things I’ve never felt before,” she says, breathing heavy. I watch her breasts rise and fall and I can’t breathe for a second.