Page 60 of The Love Interest
She whimpers, and I slip two fingers inside her and fuck her with them. Hard and fast because that’s how it has to be.
“Oh my God. Emmett.” She clenches around me, moaning. Clenches and releases, clenches and releases.
And then I curl my fingers toward myself, find that G-spot, and she rises up, sucking in her breath, and then goes still for one shocking, perfect moment. I’ve been living in this moment ever since we met. The moment before the sweet release. She makes the most beautiful, pained, and satisfied sound before relaxing and convulsing.
I wish I could see her face.
I always wish I could see her face.
I keep my fingers exactly where they are until she finally stops whimpering and twitching and saying “Oh my God, oh my God. Emmett.”
She goes limp. I touch her cheek and kiss her on the lips, just once. There is so much more I want to do for her, but I have to stop now or I never will. I pull my hand out slow, still pressing against her. She clenches her thighs together and grabs my face, drags the tip of her tongue up my chin and my lower lip, and then kisses me with all of the urgency of a woman whodidn’tcome all over my hand just now.
Fucking twenty-five-year-olds.
She pulls her mouth away—which is unfortunate because I really like kissing her—pushes me backward until the backs of my legs touch the end of a bed. She gives my chest a shove, encouraging me to sit down. I really shouldn’t, but I also really want to because I have a feeling something awesome is about to happen.
She reaches behind herself. I hear the unzipping of a zipper. She pushes the waistband of her skirt down over her hips until the skirt falls to the floor. The room is only lit by moonlight and a streetlamp, but I see her standing there before me in black bikini underwear, boots, and socks that go up over her knees. I can’t even stop my hands from reaching for those thighs. That ass. She unbuttons her blouse, all the way down. She’s wearing a thin bra of sorts, but even in this dim light I can see those nipples, and—fuck it.
I pull her onto my lap, feel her legs wrap around my waist, yank that triangle of fabric down, and lick that nipple because I have to. She arches back, offering herself to me, and I take her, with my mouth and my hands. She bears down on my crotch, and I’m so hard, it’s painful, but this is the best thing that’s happened to me in over a decade, so I can handle it.
She is smooth and sweet and so alive.
I would ruin my life and everyone else’s for this woman right now.
She combs her fingers through my hair. It’s nurturing, and then she digs her fingernails into the back of my neck when I suck on the flesh of her breast and then twirl my tongue around her perfect nipple. I’m making her come again.
“Oh my God. Holy shit.”
I can’t even form words anymore. This is how a man loses his mind. Slowly and then all at once, with his mouth on a beautiful woman’s tits.
So be it.
She starts rocking back and forth. Gently but enough to make me want to die if I can’t fuck her. Why did Inotwant to fuck her again?
Her hands are on my belt. This is the part where I’m supposed to tell her to stop. I’m supposed to lift her off my lap, thank her for everything, and then leave.
But I’m not going to.
I groan as I try to find my voice and the words to tell her to lie back on the mattress, when the door behind Fiona opens.
The lights don’t come on, but there’s stomping on the hardwood floor.
I can barely see through my glazed-over, hooded eyes, but Fiona blurts out, “Keiko! Hey!”
I curse under my breath. Words are coming back to me now, all the bad ones.
Fiona covers her breasts, continuing to straddle me. “Um…”
“Not looking. I need my bedding. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“I’m leaving,” I mutter.
“No.” Fiona puts her hands on my shoulders and then covers her breasts again. “Don’t go.”
“We can’t do this.”
The woman gathers up a pillow and comforter in her arms and carries them out of the room. She doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t look at us.
