in a good way," she said, exhaling. "But you are a big bastard."
"And you're so fucking tight," he whispered into her ear before kissing her neck and lazily rocking into her. He reached around with one hand and started stroking her sex, spreading her slick juices around her clit, his movements dictated by the snap of his hips. Each time he pushed back into her, it hit something deep inside that made her clench with anticipation, her nerves taut and thrumming with arousal.
"You're so unbelievably hot, Emily Flanagan, I don't think you have any idea. God," he said, biting off a moan. "You drive me crazy."
He punctuated his words with deep thrusts, and Emmy was on the verge of coming undone. She was spiraling into a vortex of sensations, egged on by every touch, and she was moaning pretty continuously now. Eric sped up, his fingers pressing against her clit unerringly, until all the feelings coalesced in one intense orgasmic burst, and she gasped her pleasure, shaking. He lasted a few more strokes before his rhythm stuttered and he muffled his groan in her shoulder. They both slid down onto the bedspread, legs and arms entwined.
"So much for having a shower before dinner," Emmy said eventually, and Eric chuckled.
"So much for having an early evening to sleep off the jet-lag."
"Oh, you wanted to sleep? My mistake, I thought you were after anal sex," Emmy teased, lazily stretching alongside him, and he replied with a kiss.
"I don't seem to want any sleep when I'm with you, you temptress."
"That's it, blame the woman for your failings..."
He wrapped an arm around her and pulls her close.
"I don't think of it as a failing. But you are irresistible."
"Oh, shush," she said, blushing. "Besides, you're kind of charming yourself, I'll have you know. And pretty smooth."
She was going to be sore when she woke up tomorrow, for sure, but right now she was feeling extremely relaxed, and flooded with the kind of endorphins you only got after exceptionally good sex. The degree to which their bodies responded to each other was almost scary, she thought as she fell asleep later, snuggled against Eric in their huge bed.
Chapter Twelve
The rest of their stay continued to delight Emmy, from the Tintoretto-decorated Scuola di San Rocco to the amazing paintings at the Accademia, where she picked Carpaccio's Legend of Saint Ursula sequence as her favorite ever, and beyond the city, to the glass-blowing workshops of Murano and the Byzantine cathedral of Torcello. At every turn, there was another delightful church, some hidden masterpiece, or just a quiet canal gracefully bracketed by delicate bridges, as peaceful now as it had been in the past three centuries.
She'd never been anywhere where the past was so entwined with the present, so unapologetically part of the fabric of the city. It was wonderful, all the more so because Eric knew the city well enough to be an excellent guide — albeit one who occasionally managed to lose himself in the twisting streets, but it was part of the charm — and there, away from the daily stresses of his work, and the New York City lifestyle, he was much more relaxed and easygoing. Emmy could feel herself falling for him a little more every day.
They were lounging post-coitally in their splendid bedroom, Emmy leafing through Eric's copy of JG Links' Venice for Pleasure, trying to trace back the route they'd attempted the previous day when his phone rang and he kissed her shoulder before getting up and answering. He paced across the room, giving her a chance to ogle his ass as he listened intently. Evidently it was something important, because he made sure to catch her eye before pointing at the phone with a frown, and stalking into the sitting-room, wrapping himself in his hotel bathrobe before he closed the door between them.
He disappeared for the better part of half an hour, and when he stepped back into the bedroom, he looked so pale that Emmy was convinced someone had died.
"What happened?" she asked, breathless, bracing herself for the worst, but he shook his head.
"Nothing important," he mumbled, but she wasn't going to let him evade her again.
“Bullshit, Eric. You look shellshocked.”
“I can’t really discuss it, Em. Let’s just say it’s something to do with Owen, and it’s not good news.”
“You’ve tracked him down?”
Eric nodded reluctantly.
“I think so. But something’s come up. Something very difficult to resolve, and that I can’t tell you about, for a number of reasons. Please don’t