He was looking at a long-term future for them. Something that had never been on the table before.
It was now.
It was not love. It was not even romance.
It was mutual need. Mutual desire. It was an acknowledgment that she was special in his life and her admitting, if only to herself, that he was still someone she wanted in hers.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips and then Emma deepened the kiss on her own.
He tasted so good, his lips moved so perfectly against her own, his tongue teasing hers into responding.
But she didn’t want only to respond. She wanted to make him as hot for her as she was for him.
If she was going to do this, Emma was going to get maximum pleasure from it.
She climbed into Kon’s lap, his hard thighs under hers driving her ardor higher. They both started shedding clothes, breaking their kiss only to get her top off, and then his shirt.
Buttons popped, scattering with little tings across the floor, and neither of them cared.
They touched and squirmed and managed to divest themselves and each other of every stitch of clothing, all the while caressing each other like two desperate teenagers.
Kon’s usual finesse was entirely missing, but then Emma wasn’t any better. She wanted to feel every change five years had wrought on his body. The way his fingertips mapped her stomach, her thighs, her shoulders, everything in between said Kon wanted the same thing.
Emma rubbed the apex of her thighs against his erection, pleasuring them both.
Kon’s big body shuddered, his mouth breaking from hers to trail biting kisses down her neck. “Yes, Emma, that’s right, solnyshko.”
The familiar endearment was like another touch right to the core of her. He used to call her his little sunshine because he said she brought light into his life.
Had he missed that light all this time?
He clasped her hips, but let her set the pace and ferocity of their bodies’ movement together.
Emma remembered this.
Kon might be a prince and a totally take-charge kind of guy, but he’d never needed to completely control their lovemaking. He always encouraged Emma to seek her own pleasure and seemed to derive his own from it. In a very big way.
He thrust up, meeting her body with his own, increasing the pressure of his sex against her clitoris and sending ecstasy arcing through her.
“Touch me,” Emma demanded, thrusting her breasts against his hard chest.
Kon muttered something in Russian against her ear, the puffs of air sending shivers rolling through her. It must not have been a denial because his big hands shifted to cup her curves, thumbs brushing over already stiff and sensitive peaks.
The caresses went straight to her core and Emma moaned, pleasure building inside her along with a need to be filled that would not be denied.
They kissed again, Emma matching Kon touch for touch, their bodies moving in an increasingly frantic rhythm.
One of Kon’s hands moved down over her backside, sliding down until his fingertip dipped inside her most intimate flesh. She was wet and swollen and he moved easily inside her despite the years since she had been this close to another person.
He added another finger almost immediately, pressing in and out of her body, making love to her with his hand even as she craved the ultimate connection.
Her climax hit her out of nowhere, rolling over her body with so much intensity she screamed against his lips and then tried to hold back further cries.
“Give me all your sounds.”
“But Mickey—”
“Can hear nothing.”