Page 74 of That Kind of Guy

“Emmett, don’t stop,” I begged, reaching for his cock. “Do not fucking stop.” I grasped his hard length and stroked.

“I won’t,” he rasped. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” His fingers continued to pulse against my front wall, making me light-headed with pleasure, and his other hand return to my slick clit. Short, sharp whimpers were spilling out of my mouth. The pressure in my core was so strong, I could barely stand it. All consuming. I couldn’t think, I didn’t know what month it was, I was only focused on how incredible his hands felt and how I’d do anything to come right now.

“I can’t handle this, it’s too good.” I leaned my head against his chest. My hand moved faster on his cock, but he pulled it away.

“Not yet,” he growled. “You first.”

I reached for him again and his fingers moved faster and more urgently over my slick center. I moaned as the tension built and wrapped my hand around him once again. He increased the pressure both on my center and with his fingers inside me, pushing again my g-spot urgently. I stroked him hard, and he pulsed in my hand.

He glared at me. “Don’t you dare fucking make me come first.”

I liked this side of Emmett, this angry, furious version of him. I knew I’d replay this moment again and again.

“I’m barely touching you.” My voice was breathless and ragged.

“I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name,” he gritted out.

I could feel myself tipping.

He leaned his forehead against mine. His eyes were black. “I’m going to make you come so hard that from now on, you think about me.” His fingers worked faster, sliding across my folds and stroking the button inside me. I could barely breathe, it felt so good. I was wound so tight.

I gasped for air. His fingers were so intense. My hand stroked his throbbing cock, and I couldn’t wait to have it inside me. But for now, I just wanted him to relieve the pressure coiling around my spine. My skin prickled and was on fire at the same time. Electricity shot up and down my limbs, and my legs started to shake.

“Emmett,” I whispered. I could feel myself tipping. I wrapped my legs around him.

“Louder,” he demanded. His cock strained in my hand.

I moaned in response, my forehead falling against his chest. “Please.”

“Say it.” His fingers eased up and I whimpered in protest. “You know what to do.”

I needed to come. I needed it so badly. Humans weren’t meant to be on the precipice of extreme pleasure like this for so long. I hated him for dangling it in front of me like this.

“Emmett.” His name rang out of my mouth in desperation.

He responded by increasing the pressure and speed of his fingers and I fell over the edge. I was frozen, my mouth open in a silent scream and my limbs paralyzed. I fell back, and one of his arms wrapped around to catch me while the other stayed buried within me. I pulsed around his fingers, clenching him and moaning against his chest as I came.

My hand stayed wrapped around his thick length the entire time and as the waves of intense orgasm began to subside, I stroked him hard and fast. He clutched me harder to him.

He groaned against me, and his head fell to my shoulder as hot liquid spilled over my hand. He shuddered and a smug grin spread across my face. He lifted his head to look at me. We were both breathing heavy, trying to catch our breath.

Making Emmett come was my new addiction. The way he lost control under my hand, the way he shuddered against me, the way his perfect exterior cracked, and he let the primal need shine through—I needed more.

“That was fun.” My voice shook, just like my legs.

He sagged against me, and I felt his mouth against my neck. “Nice work, Adams.”

We caught our breath for a few moments before he lifted me up off the counter, pressing soft, sweet kisses up and down my neck while carrying me upstairs. Our tea sat on the counter in the kitchen, cold and forgotten.

We crawled into Emmett’s bed, and he flicked the light off. He pulled me against his chest, and I listened to his heartbeat, the slow thumping lulling me to sleep. I refused to worry about what this meant for us, where we were going, or what would happen. All I could think about was how utterly and completely content I felt, and how I couldn’t wait to do it again.

18

Avery

“Let’s just tighten this up,”the sales associate, Geraldine, said before clamping metal clips up the back of my dress to make it fit and I stared at my reflection.

I hated this.

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