His hands wrapped around the backs of my thighs and gripped my hips, pulling until I hung off the wicker chair, the cushion moving with me. Then he ran one hand down my abdomen, his palm cupping me as one finger slipped between my lips.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, the pad of his finger skating down to my opening before running back up to my clit. “I make you so wet. It kills me.”
I couldn’t respond, could barely breathe as he tested me, just the tip of his finger entering me as I arched into him. I cried out, more tender than I realized, but wanting him nonetheless.
A groan rumbled low in his throat, his finger curling just a bit before he withdrew it. “Yeah, you definitely need a night to rest,” he said, but he was already kissing my thighs, his mouth on a direct track for my core. “Maybe this will speed the healing time.”
His tongue flattened against that most sensitive part of me, that little button that seemed to be the detonator for my orgasms the night before, and he ran it long and hot over the bundle of nerves. I gasped, hands reaching back to grip the frame of the chair as my legs tensed around him. It didn’t matter that I’d had his mouth on me the night before, that I already knew how it felt — I knew right then I’d never get enough of it, no matter how much he gave me.
He moved until my good leg was draped over his shoulder, the other spread wide, and his tongue lashed me again, swirling and flicking before he sucked the detonator between his teeth with a hiss. That’s the best name I knew to give it, that little spot he touched, that tiny ball of sensitivity that sparked an electric wave each time he brushed it. And he was an expert, knowing just how long to touch me there before it became too much, before he would pull back and flatten his tongue again.
My orgasm mounted even quicker than the night before, blood rushing to my core in a rising tide with every lick. I squeezed my eyes shut, writhing under his mouth, hips grinding up and reaching. But Emery took his time, and just when I was on the edge of release, he pulled back, blowing softly on the swollen skin.
I collapsed, legs falling to the side as the orgasm I was so close to left as quickly as it had come, but the rest didn’t last for long before Emery’s mouth was on me again. It was shocking, the sensation of being so close and then cut off, only to have it rush back with a vengeance as soon as he touched me again.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, and Emery sucked harder, his hands gripping my thighs.
“Tell me,” he said, words vibrating through me.
“I think…”
“Say it.”
My head spun, thoughts fleeting as the rush moved over me, and then all senses went numb before buzzing back to life at once.
“I’m coming,” I breathed, my cheeks flushing with heat at the admission, and it was those words and the slip of Emery’s middle finger inside me that sent me over the edge. He kept his finger inside, curling it over and over, deeper and deeper, his mouth crushing onto mine and absorbing my moans as I fell apart at the touch.
Overwhelmed.
That was the only way I knew how to describe how I felt.
I didn’t know what it was like to be touched like that, to be devoured, to be tasted like candy and worshipped like a goddess. Even after I was sated, Emery still ran his hands over every inch of my body, feeling and caressing, soothing and teasing, kissing his way back down.
Leaning up on my elbows, I gazed down at him just as he pressed a final, sweet kiss to my inner thigh. He helped me sit upright, my arms around his neck, and I kissed him with intent.
“I want to do that to you,” I said against his lips, my hands already trailing their way down his ribs. He was still kneeling between my legs, his own spread in a V, and when I ran my palm over the bulge in his sweatpants, he shifted forward, rocking into the touch with a groan. “But I need your help. I’ve never…”
I swallowed, not needing to finish the sentence. We both knew there were plenty of things I hadn’t experienced yet, but I wanted to with him. I needed to.
“If you wrap these perfect lips around me,” he husked, sucking my bottom one between his teeth. “I might actually fucking die.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”
He smiled against my mouth, kissing me hard before using the arms of the chair to stand and pulling me with him. He lifted me easily, cradling my prosthetic at one side while I gripped the other with my good leg, our lips still fused together as he carried me inside. When we were by the foot of his bed, he dropped me back to the floor easily, his eyes somehow darker now that we were in the light again.
His hands trailed down my arms, the backs of his fingertips tickling my skin until they found my hands. I gripped his tight, using him for balance as I kissed him one last time before lowering to my knees, my eyes on his.
Emery swallowed when I hit the ground in front of him, already sliding his sweatpants down his legs. He was commando underneath them, and he sprang forward, hard and ready.
It was the first time I’d seen him — really seen him, or any guy for that matter. The night before, he was inside me, but I hadn’t seen him strip down, hadn’t seen the curve of the tip or the vein that ran hard and long down the length of him. I hadn’t watched as he entered me, inch by blissful inch, all of that disappearing within me. He’d encompassed me, wrapped himself around me, and I’d focused on his eyes, his lips, the two lines between his eyebrows.
Now that I saw him fully, I understood why I was sore.
I looked up at him, my hands braced on my knees as I waited for instruction.
“God,” he breathed, shaking his head as he gazed down at me. “Just seeing you like that… I can’t…”
His words faded and I bit my lip, scooting a little closer, one hand tentatively reaching out, but I paused.
“Touch it.”
It was just a whisper, a plea, and when I wrapped my hand around the middle of him, he groaned, thrusting into my grip. It was what I imagined the first hit of a powerful drug to feel like, the first rush of heat and high. Being the one to elicit that sound from him made me want to stay on my knees forever.
Following the rhythm of his hips, I worked him with one hand, fist tightening slightly over the tip of him before working down to his base. Then, Emery reached for my chin, his fingers trailing the skin there before they ran across my lower lip. I kept my eyes on him, looking for approval as I leaned forward and touched my lips to his crown.
“Christ,” he cursed, flexing forward more. “Yes, like that. Take me in your mouth.”
It was strange, that I felt so much power. I was on my knees in front of him, smaller in every way, but power radiated through me at the sight of him bending to my touch, succumbing to the feel of me.
I still held him firmly with one hand, the other bracing on his thigh as I leaned forward more, my lips parting. I took him in a little, just enough for my lips to cover the tip of him. Just that contact elicited another groan from Emery, and when I opened my mouth, sliding him inside me slowly with one hand still at his base, he shuddered.
“Fuck,” he growled, his hands reaching for my hair. He gathered it at the back of my head before letting it fall again. It was like he wanted to grip it but thought better, pulling his hands up to run through his own strands, instead. “I thought going easy last night was hard, I have zero self-control right now.”