“God, I love your mouth.”
“That’s good because there are some things I want to try that involve my mouth.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Happy to oblige. We can start with your experiment and move on to mine.”
“Yours?”
“Gorgeous Emily, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I want to take control. You’re inexperienced, but this isn’t about that. Surrendering sexually is something so liberating. For someone like you who has carried such a huge emotional burden, the freedom will be... unimaginable.”
He kissed her senseless and only a glimpse at a scar near his hairline reminded her of their talk.
“Did we finish our conversation? About your secret life?”
He slipped his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast. “For now.”
Nathan closed the door to the bedroom with a gentle snick. Emily started to pull on the button of her jeans but stopped and let her hands drop. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, shifting on her feet.
“Emily, stop.” She looked at him, desperate for some guidance.
“This isn’t some dungeon. I’m not Sir. You’re not Pet. You’re Emily. I’m Nathan. This is about turning off your brain, letting go of everything outside of this room, outside of this.” He gestured back and forth between them. “Let me take charge.”
She sighed out a relieved breath and nodded. Nathan reached behind him, grabbed his Henley by the neck and pulled it over his head. His scars only enhanced his rugged beauty. His chest wasn’t bodybuilder bulky, just muscular and defined, the inspiration for a sculpture. Emily didn’t think or worry. She simply walked over to him, sank to her knees and unlatched his belt. Nathan pulled it through the loops and dropped it to the floor while she popped the buttons on his fly. He was already so hard, the crown of his cock was escaping out the waistband of his boxer briefs. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, tasted the salty drop beaded there. His answering groan was all the encouragement she needed. She pulled the gray cotton down his legs and took him into her mouth.
Whoa.
He was so big and soft and hard. She pulled him in slowly, as far as she could take him. Nathan placed gentle hands on either side of her face and guided her movements. Honestly, in that moment, if someone had asked her those questions they ask head injury patients—who’s the president, what year is it, what state are we in—she couldn’t have answered a single one. There was only Emily, in that moment, giving the man she loved her complete surrender. The power of her submission was heady—the more she let go, the more she owned him. She was molten from the intensity of it. The intimacy of the exchange overwhelming. She pulled him deeper, the tremble in his voice and the firming of his grip egging her on.
“Emily, Christ, Emily.”
He came so hard she felt him hit the back of her throat. She was so wet she was soaking her jeans. Nathan bent forward and kissed the top of her head, hauled her up and dropped her on the bed. Her jeans hit the floor with a thwap. Nathan stared down at her like every prayer he’d ever had had finally been answered; and she guessed, in a way, that was true.
“This body....”
She tensed, fighting the residue of shallow appreciation.
“Emily, I love this body.” He kissed her belly. “I love it because it’s your body. It could be fat or thin or scarred,” he placed his hands on either side of her waist, “or full and round, and I would love it just the same. Maybe more. Now turn off that brain and let me explore this amazing body. Amazing because it’s your body.”
“It’s your body,” she offered.
The heat flared in his eyes. “Bloody hell, I need to fuck you.” In one swift motion, he nudged her thighs apart with his knees, lifted her hips, and pushed inside in one powerful thrust. It was the roughest he’d been, and she loved it. His eyes searched her glazed, lusty face, and she spread her legs further, giving him the green light in the best way she knew how. Nathan pounded into her, and he didn’t mistake her cries, as she hurdled toward a shattering climax, as anything other than what they were. Ecstasy.
Later that night, Emily and Nathan sat on the balcony eating a chilled orzo primavera Nathan’s housekeeper had left for him. She pushed a lima bean aside with her fork and stabbed a strip of bell pepper.
“I want to meet with your father. Make sure we’re all on the same page.”
“Would lunch at my apartment tomorrow work? We can have privacy that way.”
Nathan nodded his agreement and resumed his pensive chewing.
“Nathan? Do you know who outed me?”
“I have my suspicions, yes.”
She waited, holding her fork with an asparagus tip pierced on the tines.