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“Kiss me,” she whispers.
A single moment passes before our lips crash together. Both my hands cup her jaw and tangle in her hair as she roams freely. I bite at her bottom lip as her tongue teases mine. Her hand makes its way to my cock, massaging it lightly through the thick, imprisoning denim.
I want to get out of these clothes, but I want to taste Emma so much more. Even though we’ve done it a million times, every time we kiss feels like the first, but somehow, better than the last. My fingers angle Emma’s head any way I desire.
If I want her neck, I pull it back, but I want her sweet, smooth, delicious jaw. My grasp is firm, but gentle as I angle her head to the side and lay delicate kisses along her bone. Kisses turn into nibbles, which turn into sucks and erotic licks. I run my tongue along the underside of her jaw to the tip of her chin, earning a very pleased moan.
In seconds, she’s on my lap. Her hips grind where her hand once did, and she reconnects her mouth to mine. Her long hair surrounds us like a curtain, blocking us off from anything the rest of the world can throw our way. Her face up against mine, is all I need.
I want to stay in this moment forever. It’s a moment of pure bliss, where all I can think about is Emma’s lips, her taste, her sweet scent surrounding me. My hips buck upward, and my own hands mimic hers, roaming her body, scanning needily.
Part of me craves Isaac’s natural scent, lingering in the background like it always has, stirring in with hers, but the other part is completely content. I’m willing to love Emma Martin for a million lifetimes over, and I’m fine to do it with or without Isaac.
