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“You liked watching this,” he says, his hands situating the blanket perfectly before sliding his own hands under it.
I nod.
“You want to see what it feels like?”
“Emmett,” I say, his name on my lips a plea.
“Love my name coming from that pretty mouth, baby. Think you’ll be able to say my name with my cock in there?”
I tremble, an involuntary reaction to picturing him taking pleasure from me that way.
Both of his hands skate up my thighs, but he doesn’t immediately pull my panties to the side. I know he wants me. The evidence of his own desire is a thick rod at my back, his breath warming my shoulder as he lifts one hand and tugs my sleep shirt off my shoulder.
“I’ve spent so many hours picturing you in my arms,” he says, his tongue tracing the erratic pulse in my throat.
His hands roam, teasing my legs, my side, the very underside of my breasts before disappearing. I feel like a live wire, snapping and pulsing, seeking some kind of validation.
I widen my legs, trying to entice his attention there, but the man refuses to be rushed.
“Emmett,” I plead again, my body needy and desperate for more. “Touch me.”
He doesn’t give me what I want immediately, but I know when he does, it’s going to be at the most perfect time. The teasing is part of it, and every brush of his skin against mine is building me up to something spectacular.
Seb didn’t make me come. Although he’s a couple years older than me, he still seemed inexperienced. No, he seemed selfish. He was quick to force my hand down his pants as he rushed to strip me naked from the bottom down. He went as far as lifting my shirt and pushing my bra over my breasts, but that was for him, not me.
Emmett is pleasing me, and my pleasure pleases him. The difference is so very crystal clear now.
His hands search higher rather than tease lower, pulling a chuckle from his chest when I growl in irritation.
“Shh,” he urges. “I’m learning your body.”
The growl turns into a whimper when he pinches my nipple over the top of my shirt.
“Can’t wait to get my mouth on your perfect tits,” he praises, and I sink further against him.
“Same,” I pant.
He chuckles. “You seem needy, baby.”
“Desperately,” I confess.
“Yeah?” His voice is soft, but that doesn’t stop the rumble of pleasure from his chest when I lift my arm and expose my left breast to the cool air.
“So fucking naughty.” His hand travels lower, the tips of his fingers teasing the side of my panties. “Is this what you wanted?”
I hate the disconnect with being able to feel his touch but only being able to see his hand move under the blanket. I pull the blanket off, spreading my legs wider as I do.
“Need to watch,” I say on a hiss when he traces my slit over my panties, the silk embarrassingly wet and damn near transparent.
I feel him shift, moving his body so he can watch over my shoulder.
“Jesus, Devyn.”
“I know,” I manage on a moan as he pulls the ruined silk to the side, revealing my most intimate parts.
“You have the prettiest pussy,” he praises, his fingers dipping into my arousal.
The sensation is so shocking, I try to clamp my legs closed.
“We can’t have that, now can we?” he says, lifting his own legs and locking them over the top of mine as he forces them to spread all the way open.
I feel exposed and a little powerless. Somehow it turns me on instead of making me want to ask him to stop.
“Goddamn,” he hisses when he dips his finger into my opening. “Gonna come the second I try to wedge my cock into this tight pussy.”
I whimper again, my hips trying to move as he presses his pointer finger all the way inside. I’ve never experienced pleasure like this. My body feels like it’s being hit over and over by lightning.
My moan matches his groan when my body reflexively clenches around the intrusion. His other hand grips my breast, his fingers toying with the tightened nipple, and it’s just too much. He’s a hundred percent focused on my body, but I’m incapable of controlling any of my reactions. They’re being determined by his attention.
I notice the tremble in my muscles first, little spasms that quickly turn into jolts and convulsions along my arms and legs.
“Give into it,” he commands. “Let that sweet little pussy come.”
I don’t know why my instinct is to force his hand away. I’ve orgasmed before while touching myself, but what’s happening now isn’t on the same level.
I know what he’s doing is going to leave me drained and completely pleased, so there’s no sense in fighting it. I’m no longer in control.
“That’s it,” he praises when my back arches and I chase his hand with the swirl of my hips.
