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She studies my face for a few beats, then runs her fingers through my hair. Each second without her lips on mine is agony. She cups my cheek and swoops in, pressing her mouth against mine with an urgency that matches my own. I slick my tongue along the seam of her lips, and she moans into my mouth, opening for me to taste her. Sweetness from the tea lingers on her tongue.
All night, I’ve been dying to pull this dress up around her waist. As she keeps kissing me, my hand slowly gathers the puffy skirt of her dress. So much material. Layers. Underneath the dress itself, I encounter more panels of wispy fabric.
She gasps when my fingers finally touch the bare skin of her thigh and kisses me even harder. Without breaking the kiss, she rests her hands on my shoulders and shifts her body until she’s straddling my thighs.
“Yes, good girl,” I whisper against her mouth as she snuggles tight against my body, the heat of her center pulsing through my jeans. Pushing what seems like an endless pile of fabric out of my way, I slide my hands up her thighs, bunch the material around her waist and palm her ass. She moans even louder. Rolls her hips against me. I want to move this into the bedroom but there’s no fucking way to pause this fire.
“Dex,” she whimpers, kissing along my jaw.
“Baby, I love this dress on you but why is there so much of it?”
“Zipper,” she gasps, and reaches one hand behind her to sweep her hair to the side. “In back.”
She kisses and sucks at my neck while I try to find the invisible zipper from hell. Finally, my fingers fumble against a tiny piece of metal. I’m ready to rip it to shreds and buy her a new dress when it finally gives, and I tug it all the way down. She sits up, putting even more pressure on my aching dick, and shoves the dress off her shoulders.
“Yes,” I praise, barely getting the word out before she captures my face between her hands and smashes her mouth against mine again.
I work the clasp of her bra loose and slide my rough fingers against her silky skin.
She pulls away long enough to toss the bra to the side.
“My little firecracker has no patience tonight.” I cup one of her breasts and run my thumb over the tip, loving the way she moans against my ear in response.
“You have no idea. How much I wanted to jump you. Every time,” she says in between breathless kisses.
“You should’ve.”
She sits back, staring into my eyes. “I didn’t think I had the right after—”
I press my finger against her lips. “I’m yours. I’m always yours, Emily.”
She kisses my knuckles. “I’m yours, too.”
“Good.” I thread my fingers into her hair and draw her closer. “Now, keep kissing me.”
Her kisses are slower, more tentative this time.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Touch me.” I curl my fingers around her wrists and place her palms against my chest. “I’ve missed your hands on me.”
“Well,” she slides her hands to the hem of my shirt, “I need this out of my way.”
“Say no more.” It’s awkward in the stupid dining room chair, but I somehow keep her anchored in my lap with one arm while she helps me tug the T-shirt up and over my head.
“Much better.” She slides her tongue over her bottom lip and spreads her hands over my shoulders.
I could easily get high off of the raw appreciation in her eyes. Or the way she rolls her hips against me. All of the above. Everything about Emily amps me up.
“What do you need?” I cup her cheek.
“You.” She braces herself on my legs and slides out of my lap, kneeling in front of me. The fabric of her dress is still tethered at her waist by the wide belt. It rustles and settles around her in a cloud.
“Take off the dress first.”
She lifts an eyebrow, then places her hands on my knees and stands. Her steady gaze bores into me as she works the belt at her waist loose and lets it fall to the floor with a soft thump. Then she turns around and shimmies the dress off the rest of the way, letting it pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but a pair of silky-looking dark-green boy shorts and red heels. She makes a show of slowly bending over to pick up the dress. Her underwear covers everything, which somehow makes the seductive move both hot and maddening. She tosses the dress on one of the chairs and turns to face me again.
“Better?”
“Much.” My gaze travels over her body in slow tracks, like I’m trying to commit every curvy inch to memory.
“May I?” Her fingertips graze my legs as she kneels in front of me again.
