her lips to his chest…and suddenly the bedroom seemed too far away.
Instead, he laid her down on the blue rug in the living room. “I can’t wait,” he gasped as he raised her feet to his shoulders and slid back inside her.
Still so wet from her earlier orgasm, she offered little resistance, but the position made everything feel so tight. He’d had sex before. Plenty of it. But this, with Emerson, was different.
“Em,” he gasped.
Her hands were over her head. Her breasts bounced as he thrust into her. She was so uninhibited, so…in sync with him, he felt almost delirious.
Gently, he lowered her legs to either side of his hips and slipped off her shoes. As he lay down over her, he pushed himself deep inside. “Tell me you feel this, Em,” he said gruffly. “Tell me you feel the connection between us.”
Emerson placed her hands either side of his face, and while his friends would probably call him a pussy, he felt so cherished. “I feel it. I’ve felt it for a while.”
He rolled them onto their sides, remaining deep inside her, and kissed her tenderly. Softly. With his hand twisted up in her hair, he held her to him. His body wanted to move, to continue whatever this was until he was completely spent.
But his heart needed a minute. Sixty seconds to process just how much she meant to him. He should probably say something. Perhaps explain why he suddenly felt like he’d just been poleaxed. Instead, he kissed her again. Passionately. Messily. And they began to move. He withdrew from her mouth and drove himself home. Emerson tilted her hips towards him, meeting him.
She was so wet and warm and ready for him. They fit together in every conceivable way.
“Em,” he said, rolling them so she was on her back again, so he could pin her to the rug and thrust into her.
Sweat rolled between her breasts, between their stomachs. “I’m going to need you to come soon,” he gasped. Taking his weight on one arm, he slid his hand between them, circling her clit, applying the pressure he knew she loved.
“Yes, Connor,” she cried, one hand around his neck, the other holding on to his arm.
His orgasm built, the tightening of his balls, the juggernaut currently steaming down his spine. His head spun, but he kept his eyes on Emerson. Watching as her mouth opened in shock, as she held her breath and then gasped as she tightened around his dick.
It was all he needed to let go and join her, pulse after pulse in glorious agony.
His whole body shook as he sucked in gulps of air. Unable to maintain his own weight, he slumped over her, his nose pressed against her neck. Her skin damp and salty against his lips.
Their hands linked above her head as he regained his breath.
Feeling his dick slide out of her, he reached to make sure the condom came out, too. With a groan, he rolled onto his back feeling totally spent. Gathering Emerson close, he tucked her under his arm, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
Neither of them said a word.
It felt like the moment after he’d finished a race, in the few minutes that followed the celebration. The mental silence and clarity that followed was something he’d always sought. Peace to a brain that always worked on overdrive.
“I feel like I should have said grace,” Emerson said.
Connor ran his hand through her hair, getting his fingers caught in the completely disheveled updo. “Grace?”
“You know, to be thankful for all the things I was about to receive.”
Connor laughed, the action jostling his now-aching body. He could do an Ironman, but sex on the condo floor seemed to have fucked with his posture.
“Are you really okay?” he asked, glancing down at her.
“I’ll probably be sore tomorrow in places I didn’t know about. But, yes. I loved every minute of what we just did.”
He pulled her tight. “I loved that it was you. You surprised me and turned me on more than I thought was possible. The image of you standing by the kitchen counter in just those fucking heels is likely going to haunt me at the most inappropriate moments for the rest of my life.”
“Knowing it was you gave me the confidence to do that.”
Connor’s heart squeezed at the thought of it. “We never really talked about preferences before tonight. About what you like sexually. And what I like. Perhaps we should do that.”
Emerson circled her fingers