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Carefully, I climb into the bed, lifting the sheet from around Emerson’s body so I can take her in. I’ve never seen something so perfect in my life. I didn’t know perfection existed until I locked eyes on her. Her skin looks impossibly soft as I run my hungry gaze over every inch of her until I find my target. Her perfect pussy. I need to taste her, to remind her over and over again who she belongs to.
I position myself between her legs, parting them gently to avoid waking her too soon. Her scent hits me immediately and I feel drunk. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her sweet pussy, but I’ll spend my whole life trying to get my fill of her.
I place soft kisses along the inside of her thighs, over her mound, across her lower belly, everywhere but her pussy, but she doesn’t stir. She has a lot of sleep to catch up on, and she can get back to sleep once I’ve been inside her again.
I swipe my tongue across her clit a few times, before dragging it from her ass, through her folds and up to the crest. My touches are gentle but firm as I hold her legs spread for me to feast on her.
Emerson’s head moves from side to side, her hands moving to push the foreign feeling away before a moan slips from her pouty lips. Her eyes are closed though as her fingers move into my hair and push my face further into her. Her hips grind against my face greedily and I swear to fucking god I almost come. I’ve never seen anything as sexy as Emerson using me for her pleasure while she sleeps.
Slowly, her eyes flutter open, the bright green irises meeting mine as I close my lips around her clit and suck. Hard.
A surprised scream fills the room, but her hips are still seeking me out. She needs more and she’s not afraid to take. I’ll always give her what she needs, but she needs to learn to get it on my terms.
“Rayne,” she breathes my name like a prayer. But you don’t pray to the devil. She’ll learn that sooner or later.
“Good morning, sweet girl.” I smile up at her as my tongue draws lazy circles around the sensitive nub at the crest of her pussy. I could do this all day. Her taste, her pussy gushing for me, it’s fucking addictive.
“Good morning,” Emerson groans, her fist grasping my hair tightly.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Are we making small talk while you eat my pussy?” She pushes my face into her harder, as if she’s trying to shut me up.
I chuckle against her wetness and feel warmth seep into every pore. This feels domestic. This feels like a way I would like to start every day for the rest of my fucking life. Emerson laughing beneath me as I pleasure her, being surrounded by her, and suddenly I want that. I have to broach a few topics today that are going to set her off like a nuclear missile, but eventually she’ll come to see I only want what’s best for her.
And what’s best for her is being with me.
29
Emerson
Rayne’s tongue is relentless as he drags me higher and higher.
I have to admit, waking up from the most peaceful, dreamless night of sleep I can remember having with his head been my legs and his tongue fucking me hits my top five wake ups of all time, but the way he continues to play my body as I pull myself out of that dream state is truly masterful.
“You were wet for me before I even started touching you, sweet girl,” he tells me as his fingers probe at my entrance.
“I was?” I ask unconsciously. I can’t focus on what he’s saying when his tongue is driving me higher and higher by the moment.
Rayne nods. “I bet you were dreaming about me, dreaming about me touching you.”
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to gain some composure to continue speaking when my body is electric with need. “Maybe it wasn’t for you,” I whisper. I’m playing with fire and hoping to get burned. Because Rayne’s brand of heat is exactly what I want, what Ineed.
A primal growl fills my ears and when I meet Rayne’s eyes again all I see is pure, animalistic lust. “Don’t.”
“What?” I ask, batting my eyelashes innocently. “It’s just a bit presumptuous of you to assume you’re the only man on Earth that could make me wet.”
Rayne moves from his position between my legs, prowling up my body like a lion stalking its prey and I know I’ve gone too far, and yet if I have it my way I’m going to keep pushing. I want to see how far I have to push him before he snaps, before he takes me the way I know he wants to. “Do you want me to withhold your orgasms for a month, sweet girl? Do you need to be reminded who you belong to?” The words are low and sound like a threat, but a man like Rayne doesn’t make threats, only promises.
I shake my head, sliding my fingers into his hair and tugging his lips down on mine, relishing in the feel of his weight pressing me into the bed. It keeps me grounded as his tongue probes my mouth roughly, as if trying to prove to me I belong to him.
I break away from his kiss, my breaths coming in sharp pants. “I don’t need you to remind me, I know who I belong to.”
“Who, sweet girl?”
I lean up on my elbows to press my lips to his again, needing the contact, needing to feel him against me. “You,” I whisper. The word slips from my lips like a promise, and I mean it. A few days ago, I was fighting tooth and nail against Rayne. I couldn’t let a man like him touch me. A man so brutal people crossed the street when they saw him coming. But he isn’t that man to me.
He isn’t the enforcer of a mafia family.
