She began unbuttoning his shirt. Three buttons down, he gripped her hand. But he did not stop her. Instead, he brushed his thumb along her skin and then loosened his hold.
Yes.He wanted this as much as she did.
She parted his shirt and exposed his glorious chest, pressing a kiss to his rock-solid pecs.
When she dragged her tongue to his abs, he caught her elbows like he was torn about allowing her to sink to her knees before him.
Tenderly, she laid her lips on his stomach and then teased the tip of her tongue past the waistline of his pants. She brushed his hold aside and worked his belt from its buckle. Emmett’s hands hovered uselessly at his sides while his eyes burned twin holes into her.
Stefanie opened his zipper, pleased to find a hard ridge pushing against the seam of his boxer briefs. At least one part of his anatomy had no argument about what she was trying to do.
My accomplice.
She took him in her hand and Emmett’s head dropped back on his neck. A moan of pleasure vibrated down his form, low enough that she barely heard it over the bumping bass outside their shrouded hiding place.
“Marrying the queen,” she said as she tugged his pants and boxers past his heavy thighs, “makes you—” she flicked her tongue over the head of his erection “—the king.”
Opening her mouth wide to accommodate him, she took him onto her tongue and laved his soft flesh. He tasted heavenly, his masculine fragrance filling her nostrils as he filled her mouth.
His expelled breath was a gruff echo of her own pleasure as she hummed and took him deeper. She uncurled one of his fists and laid his flat palm on the back of her head, letting him know it was okay to encourage her.
He stood stiffly for a few seconds before giving in to the pleasure she was delivering. Then he let her do what she’d wanted to do since their wedding night.
Her husband was going to come first tonight.
She sucked the tip of his shaft, refusing to let up even when his knees locked and he growled her name.
“Stef.” His voice was a rumble of far-off thunder. “Stefanie.” That one, too, but closer. Louder.
She released him and locked her eyes on his, making the same request he had in the jewelry store when he bought their rings. “Let me.”
He sent one concerned look at the curtain behind which they’d hidden, but before the conflict in his brain could ruin their fun, she took him on her tongue again.
Then he was no longer conflicted.
His hands encouraged her, his words praising her with gentle gruffness. “Yes, honey. Like that. Just like that.”
He wound his fingers into her hair and tightened his grip pleasantly. She picked up the pace, spurred on by the popping threads of his control.
A moment later, he spilled his release into her mouth. She let him, relishing a moment that was about more than her winning, more than him coming first. She wanted him to know that he was as worthy of her as she was of him.
That they’d found forever in the unlikeliest of circumstances.
In that moment, on her knees behind the Sparkle & Shine gala, Stefanie allowed her heart to have a say.
It was just a whisper, but she recognized the four-letter word. A word that normally preceded marriage rather than following the vows.
She shut it out and rose to her feet, focusing on the here and now and the dazed look in her husband’s eyes. But the blissful afterglow was short-lived when a familiar voice spoke from directly outside the curtain.
“Have you seen Stef and Emmett yet?” the voice asked.
“Not yet,” a woman answered.
Emmett wrestled with his pants as Stefanie bit her lip to hide a laugh. He palmed her mouth to stifle that giggle, his brow a thundercloud of displeasure.
Evidently, Mayor Chase Ferguson was looking for them.