Power Play - Lauren Landish Page 0,141

around my head to whisper in my ear, “I’ve never had pink heart eye love either.”

I pull back, and she sits, placing one of her hands on my chest and one on hers, over our respective hearts. “But whatever this feels like to you, it feels like love to me. I love you. And what you feel, that’s enough for me. I want that, all of that.”

I swallow because I’m about to say something I thought I’d never say. If those are the words she uses to describe what I’m feeling, I’ll give them to her. “I love you, too.”

She smiles at me, sweet and sultry and satisfied. And that I can give her all that with such a small gesture of the depth of what I feel mystifies me to no end.

I need to tell her more, but there simply aren’t words for it in any spoken language.

So I kiss her, hard but slow, letting everything I feel pour into her. I’m still not sure of the labels, but if she is, that’s enough for me.

And I’ll make sure she never questions the power of what I feel for her, whatever name she wants to call it.

The kiss catches fire, and she presses into my chest, trying to get closer to me, almost climbing me. I wrap my hand through her hair, pulling her tight, and the two of us share one breath, one heartbeat.

Emma tries to push me back, but I’m in love, not whipped. After a moment of playful struggle, I push her back onto the mattress. “Uh-uh.”

The moment of laughter dies on her lips when I follow her, aligning my body with hers and grinding my cock against the cradle of her core. She moans, finally wrapping her legs around me.

I kiss along her neck, grazing the soft skin with my teeth, wanting to stay true to my word and mark her all over.

But I settle for sucking kisses, knowing the redness will fade before we even leave this bed. It’s enough for now.

She mewls beneath me, just like a kitten. She is my kitty.

With her next wave of writhing, I push her shirt off her shoulders and yank her tank top over her head.

She’s the one that reaches back and unhooks her sports bra.

And then she’s bare to me. Taking one nipple into my mouth, I tease and pluck at the other, inhaling her salty skin.

But as I try to go lower, licking and biting down her belly to her pants, she stops me. “Nathan, I haven’t showered in days. Literal days. I love it when you go down on me, but I love you enough to know that we don’t need to do that right now. I need you, deep inside me and making me yours. Just fuck me, please.”

The last word is a plea, but I can deny her nothing.

“I thought you’d want me to make love to you now,” I tease, though I’m curious to her answer. In my head, I guess along with the rainbows and glittery image of love, I expected her to want something a little sweeter than our last encounter.

Still kissing her belly, I wait for her to answer as I undo her pants, sliding them down her legs and working at taking her boots off. Finally, I get the knots undone, and I’m able to remove the last stitches from her body.

Once she’s naked, I stand up to take my clothes off too, shirt flying and pants dropping as I forcefully kick off my own boots, which I’d thankfully untied as soon as I got onboard. She hums as she thinks and watches me hungrily.

When I’m just as bare and exposed as her, she answers. “Firstly, I fucking loved what we did before. I hate that you felt like you needed to punish me, but the result was something I’d repeat anytime you like. But I don’t think ‘I love you’ sex has to be any certain way. I mean, soft and slow is good, and hard and fast is good. We could do this in a bed, in the shower, or you could take me in the middle of the jungle we just left. You can take an hour or pound the shit out of me in five minutes. Just hold my hand while you do it and we’re good.”

The blush on her cheeks and smirk on her lips are like a pure shot of lust.

“Say it again,” I demand.

She blinks once, twice, and then gets