Love, Artifacts, and You by Sarah Ready

7

Emma

“Emma.”

I open my eyes wide at the rough growl in Andrew’s voice. His eyes are lit with a wild yearning that makes the muscles deep inside me clench in response. I wrap my legs tighter around him and press myself against him. I let out a small needy noise when his hard length rubs against me.

Whatever he sees on my face makes his eyes blaze hotter.

“Yes.” I dig my fingers into his shoulders and rock myself into him.

He drags in a deep breath. It looks as if he’s fighting a battle with himself, between taking me upstairs and making slow, sweet love, or taking me right here, right now.

“Right here. Right now,” I say.

Whatever restraint was holding him back breaks. He comes unleashed. His mouth crashes over mine. I cry out at the contact, and when I do he swoops in. His tongue licks me, tastes me, owns me. Every time his tongue darts in, the deeper parts of me shoot pulses of pleasure in response. I hear small whimpering noises and I realize it’s me. One of his hands grabs my lower back and pins me against his length. His other hand cups the back of my head and holds my mouth to his. It’s as if he’s terrified that if he lets me go, I’ll disappear.

I know exactly how he feels.

I grip his shoulders, then draw my hands over his arms and his chest. I tug at his shirt and try to pull it up over his head. He pulls his mouth away from mine and lunges toward the kitchen wall. My back hits the cool plaster. Andrew grabs my hips and wedges me between his length and the wall. He grinds his hips against mine and I rock into him. I’m aching for him. Each time he presses into me I cry out. I feel drunk on him. My body is an electric current that pulses in every spot he touches. I need him everywhere, to touch me everywhere.

I’m finding it hard to think, to articulate what I need, so instead I rub myself against him. “P…p…please.”

I tug at my shorts. My hands tremble and my legs shake as I work at the button, then the zipper. I can’t manage to pull off my shorts while Andrew holds me up. I whimper.

“Hell,” he swears.

He lowers my feet to the ground and I shove down my shorts. He looks at my pink panties and I see the hunger in his expression. It’s the look of a starving man presented with a Christmas feast. I yank off my tank top and stand before him in my bra and panties.

His hands tremble, then he clasps them into fists. He’s holding himself back. But I don’t want him to. I’ve waited ten years for this and I don’t want him to practice restraint. I unsnap my bra and drop it to the ground. My breasts are heavy and they tingle when the cold air rushes over them. My nipples harden as his eyes land on them. His chest heaves as he lets out a harsh exhale. I’m hot and achy and I need him. I push my panties down and stand before him naked.

For a second, he doesn’t move. His eyes are stunned. Completely thunderstruck.

I smile at him.

He looks at my mouth and then swoops down to kiss me.

“You’ve undone me,” he whispers against my mouth. “I’m undone.”

Then, he grasps my hips and lifts me up. I hit the wall. I rub my bare breasts over his shirt. When my nipples drag over the fabric, they send a mirroring spark between my legs. I grab at the fly of his jeans and yank them open. His length springs free. He’s holding me by my hips and his fingers dig into my thighs. His entire body is tense with wanting. I look down at the evidence of just how much he wants me. I close my hand over him and he lets out a hiss that sounds like he’s in pain. I watch his face as I rub my hand over him. He clenches his jaw and his eyes go unfocused. I pull my hand down. He’s silky smooth, as hard as iron, and hot. The heat of him soaks into me. I gently squeeze his length and he jerks in my hand. He tenses even more, holding still under me. As if he’s afraid to move.

So, I move for him.

I lift my hips and guide the tip of him to my entrance.

I’m wet and throbbing, and when the heat of his tip touches me, all my insides clench.

“Emma. My word.” He grabs my mouth with his and sends his tongue in. One hand holds my hips and the other grabs my braid. He kisses me as he rocks against my opening. Never quite going in, only teasing.

I hold his length in my hand, the tip of him barely inside me. I pull myself free of his kiss and try to lower myself onto him. He closes his eyes and grits his teeth. Sweat trails down his forehead.

“Please. I need you.”

That’s all it takes. Andrew opens his eyes. He captures my gaze, holds my eyes with his stare. And thrusts inside me.

The world explodes. It takes one hard thrust of his length inside me and I’m convulsing around him. I cry out and he shoves himself in deeper, harder. He gives a raw-throated cry and buries himself in me. I spasm around him again. I can feel it through my entire being. As if my whole body is throbbing around him. His eyes go black with heat and need and I try to collapse against him, but he holds me up. He thrusts again. My word.

“I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.” There’s such an aching need in his voice. “I’ve missed you.” He goes still. “So much.”

I whimper and rock on him.

I close my eyes and feel the heat of him. Feel where we’re joined. I feel whole. With him inside me, I feel whole again. “I’ve missed you too.”

With my eyes closed, I memorize the feel of him inside me. Then I start to move on him.

“Look at me,” he growls. He holds my face in his hands. I open my eyes. His eyes are locked on mine. He thrusts. I toss my head, riding the wave of him moving inside me. “Look at me.”

I latch onto the anchor of his eyes and ride the cresting pleasure.

“I’m yours, Emma. Look at me. I’m yours.”

I cry out. He presses deeper inside me. Claims every inch of me as his own.

“I’m yours,” he says, and he keeps saying it in time to his thrusts.

“I’m yours,” I promise back.

The world spins around me. He’s wedged into me so deep that I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. That’s not right—there is no ending, no beginning.

“I’m yours,” I say. “You’re mine.”

He shouts out and I feel him get thicker inside me. He shoves deeper, hits me so deep that I convulse around him again. His thrusts become faster, desperate, uncontrolled. He throbs inside me, fills me.

“You’re mine…you’re mine.” He buries himself deeper and I cling to him. He stays buried inside me, slowly rocking back and forth. He kisses the edge of my mouth, my jaw, my earlobe.

I wrap my arms around him and drop my head to his shoulder. I take in a deep, shuddering breath. My thundering heart starts to slow.

I want to wrap myself against him, stay with him inside me for the rest of forever. I never want this to end.

I love him. I always have and I always will.