But right now, none of that mattered. I didn’t care about any of it.
All I cared about was the way Parker touched me. The way he kissed me.
The way he ground his hips against mine, his cock rock-hard and eager.
Definitely the wine.
One hand fumbled with my hair tie, pulling it out so that my hair fell loose over my shoulders. The other slid down my neck and onto my chest, and he cupped my breast while he pushed his fingers into my hair. I moaned into his mouth, my hands on his hips, pulling him closer.
Parker had expert hands. He knew what he was doing—he massaged my breast with a large hand, and with the other, he tugged at my hair. It was demanding enough to make me wet, and careful enough that it didn’t hurt.
I ran my hands over his shoulders, thick and muscular, and found the buttons on his shirt. One by one, I unbuttoned them and ran my fingers over the splash of hair on his chest, dark and sexy.
He tugged at my shirt too. It was a knitted shirt that he pulled easily over my head before his hands found my breasts again. He traced his fingers along the cups of my bra before he pulled one down. He kissed a line of fire onto my chest, nibbled on the delicate skin of my breast, and sucked a nipple into his mouth.
I gasped and moaned as the attention to my nipple sent sparks to my pussy, making me wetter. I ached to have him inside me.
I fumbled with his pants, finding the button and zipper through the waves of pleasure and need that washed over my body simultaneously as he worshipped my breasts—one and then the other—and reached for his cock. When my fingers wrapped around his shaft, Parker moaned against my nipple.
“Fuck, I want you so badly,” he muttered.
He kissed me, and I pumped my hand up and down his shaft. His size was impressive, and I wanted more than just to feel it.
I broke our kiss, and moved on to his chest, planting kisses as I worked my way down. When I pulled his pants down, Parker gasped. He breathed hard, knowing what was coming and getting worked up in anticipation.
The couch wasn’t too far behind him, and I nudged him to sit down.
When he did, I positioned myself between his legs.
His cock was hard, the tip glistening with lust in the light that fell through the window, and I sucked his head into my mouth.
“Fuck, yes,” Parker bit out and pushed his hands into my hair as I lowered my head, taking him in as far as I could. He groaned and gyrated his hips as I sucked him off, stroking his cock in and out of my mouth.
Parker groaned.
It only made me hotter and wetter for him.
“Emily,” Parker said in a hoarse voice, and when I lifted my head to look up at him, he cupped my cheek. He stood without a word, took my hand, and helped me up. When I stood, he picked me up so that my legs wrapped around his waist.
He kissed me again and carried me to the bedroom.
I yelped when he dropped me on the bed, but he crawled over me and kissed me again, swallowing the cry that turned into moans.
While he kissed me, his hand roamed my body. He cupped my breasts, tweaked my nipples, and ran his hand over my ribs. He held on to my hip and moved with me as we ground against each other, his hard cock rubbing against my pubic bone through my work pants.
He pushed his hand into my pants, and his fingers found my slit. I gasped, and pushed my pants down, wriggling to get them over my ass and down my legs far enough that I could open them for him.
Parker helped me.
When my pants were on the floor, along with my panties, I pulled off my bra.
I was naked.
Parker pushed his fingers into me again and pumped them in and out now that he had space. I moaned when he went back to stroking my clit, and an orgasm grew inside me. It was like a flame, kindled into being, and it grew and grew until it was a roaring furnace.
I bucked my hips against his hand when he drew circles around my clit and cried out when he plunged his fingers into me.
When the pleasure became so overpowering, I shattered into a release, and the orgasm washed over me. I curled on the bed, crying out. Parker kissed me, holding me as I rode out the wave of ecstasy.