Page 74 of The Emerson Effect
Emerson’s eyes move from the nightstand, darting back to mine. He must see the urgency in them, because he nods once, then stretches over to yank the drawer open.
“Jesus,” he murmurs when he sees the unopened box. “Did you buy all of these just for us?”
I look at the box, groaning when I read the large number printed on the side. “Raven. Joke. Please, just open it. I need you inside me.”
That is the first time I’ve ever uttered that particular sequence of words. To a man, anyway. I may have said them to a bag or two of caramel turtles in my life, but that’s a completely different context.
Emerson pushes himself upright and sits back on his ankles before he rips the plastic off the box and tears into it. Pulling a condom free, he tosses the box back into the drawer and sets the single packet on the mattress beside me.
When I stare up at him with impatience, he smirks and says, “Take your bra off, Twila.”
There’s something different about his voice. Gone is the golden retriever, eager to please, and in his place is something…other. This new beast is confident and commanding, and I don’t hate it.
I don’t hate it at all.
Without a word, I tuck my hands behind my back to unclasp my bra. Emerson smiles down at me with a mix of satisfaction and pride, a combination so heady, my channel floods with fresh heat from just that look, alone.
“Perfection,” he breathes when I toss the bra across the room and settle back against the pillows. “God, you are flawless, Twila Greene-House.”
The tacking of his last name to mine is deliberate. A reminder that we’re not two near-strangers having a little fun in bed. That he’s my husband. A man about to ravish his wife.
I don’t hate that, either.
He nods at my lower body, indicating without words that he wants the underwear gone, too. I lift my hips and shove them down before dropping back to the bed and swinging my legs up into the air. Emerson takes over, sliding the silk and lace up my calves while intentionally skating his fingertips across my skin. As soon as my ankles are free, I drop my legs back to either side of him, and he growls at the sight of me on full display.
Reaching forward ever so slowly, he runs a knuckle along my slick flesh. A moan rips out of me, and I can no longer tell if it’s from pleasure or despair. I needmorethan what he’s giving.
“Emerson,” I gasp, “please.”
“We’ll get there,” he promises. “But first, I need another taste.”
My hips buck involuntarily at his words, and as I stare up at him through lust-heavy eyelids, he smiles. I can almost see his internal debate over whether or not to tease me further, but he must decide against it, because he performs some acrobatic moves that leave him stretched out on his belly with his warm breath heating my sensitive bits.
My body goes perfectly still, rigid with anticipation as I wait for the first touch of his lips. His tongue. Emerson draws the moment out, and just when I think I might snap, he runs the flat of his tongue along my slit.
An animalistic howl rips from my lungs, and it must drive Emerson a bit wild because he stops teasing me and gets to work devouring my flesh. I’m writhing within seconds, grunting unintelligible words as he moans against my clit like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.
I feel myself getting close, and instead of relishing the anticipation, I panic. Reaching down, I grab fistfuls of his hair and tug until he lifts his head to meet my eyes.
“I want to feel you inside me while I come,” I huff out, and his crystal blue gaze turns steely as he nods.
I watch as he slides off the mattress and pushes down his underwear, his eyes never leaving mine. When he steps out of them, my gaze drops to his thick, hard cock. Saliva pools in my mouth, and I swallow it down as he climbs back onto the bed, resuming his earlier kneeling position.
Picking up the condom, he rips the packaging open and plucks the latex free. Tossing the wrapper aside, he rolls the condom on with slow, meticulous fingers. Then he’s stretching over me again while guiding the tip of his cock toward my entrance. I lift my legs and wrap them around him before digging my heels into his ass, urging him to hurry.
He must catch my not-so-subtle hint, because he drives his hips forward with a roar, filling me in one powerful stroke.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp as his hardness stretches me in the most delicious of ways. “Yes. God, yes.”
The words tumble from my lips like a holy prayer until Emerson lowers his head to kiss me. The second our tongues touch, his hips start to move. He pulls out and pushes back in with surgical precision. He’s pushing in at slightly different angles each time, and when he hits that perfect spot inside me, and I yelp, he holds that angle for each subsequent thrust.
“Oh, my God,” I pant after breaking away from his kiss. “I’m going to come.”
The pressure inside me builds faster than I’ve ever experienced, and I want to chase the high. I also want to stop it so I won’t come so quickly. I don’t want this to end.
“Come for me, Twila,” he murmurs in that deep, authoritative tone he used before. “Show me how much you love my cock.”
My core clenches, making my mouth fly open in a silent scream. Sparks burst to life behind my closed eyelids as pleasure rockets through me. My whole body is rigid as I ride the wave, and yet, Emerson doesn’t stop.
