Page 54 of Kellan & Emmett
“You sure you’re good with this?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He lifted a brow, a grin tugging slow at his mouth. “Sharing a bed with you? I’d call that a win.” His gaze swept me, lingering at my chest, my hands. “Unless you’re the one not okay with it.”
God, I was more than okay. I crossed the room, sat on the edge of the mattress, close enough our thighs brushed. His heat soaked through me instantly. The teasing faded from his smile, replaced by something heavier.
“I want you, Emmett,” he said, low and rough, like the words had been clawing to get out. “All of you. Your mouth. Your hands. Your dick. Everything.”
My breath caught. My chest ached. I leaned in, cupped the back of his neck, felt the quick hammer of his pulse under my thumb. “Kelly…you can have anything you want. Anything. I’ll give it to you.”[25]
Our mouths crashed together, a groan vibrating between us. His tongue pushed into mine, hungry, desperate, and I answered with everything I’d been holding back. His hands roamed my sides, clutching at my shirt, and I shoved it off, skin shivering in the cool air.
I broke just enough to murmur against his lips, “We should talk—status.” My words were ragged, broken by want, but I needed the clarity.
“Negative,” he panted, forehead pressed to mine.
Relief and heat tangled in me. “Same. But I’ve got us covered.” I reached without looking, pulled open the nightstand drawer, fingers curling around foil packets and the slick bottle I always kept close. Nothing clinical, nothing stiff — just preparation born of knowing what it meant to take care of someone.
His eyes darkened, but there was a flicker of nerves there too, hiding under the hunger. I kissed it away, soft at first, then deeper, harder. “I’ll make it good for you, Kelly. I promise.”
And the way he looked at me — open, trusting, so damn sure I could — nearly undid me before we’d even begun.[26]
His mouth tasted like heat and want, like something I’d been starving for. We kissed until I was dizzy, until my shirt hit the floor and his followed, until we were skin on skin, slick with sweat and hunger.
I traced my tongue down his throat, over the pulse that hammered there, across his chest. Salt and soap and Kelly. He groaned when I sucked a nipple into my mouth, his fingers tangling in my hair, tugging me closer.
“God, Emmy—” His voice cracked, rough and pleading. “I want you. Inside me.”
The words jolted through me, sharp and hot. I pulled back just enough to look at him, his lips swollen, eyes blown wide. “You’re sure?” My voice was gravel, my cock aching, but I needed the answer.
He nodded fast, then steadier, the blush high on his cheekbones. “Yeah. I want it to be you. My first. Always you.”
Something inside me broke and reformed all at once. I kissed him again, slower this time, reverent, before whispering, “Then I’ll take care of you. I’ll make it good.”
We stripped the rest of the way, tossing jeans and briefs aside until nothing was left but bare, wanting skin. My cock brushed his, both of us hard and leaking, and the groan that ripped out of him nearly undid me.
I reached for the drawer, tore open foil with shaking fingers, rolled the condom down over myself. Slicked my hand with lube, the smell sharp, mingling with the musk of sweat and sex already thick in the room.
“On your back, Kelly,” I murmured. “I want to see you.”
He shifted down against the pillows, muscles taut, chest heaving. His thighs trembled as he spread them, but he didn’t look away from me. Not once.
I kissed my way down his stomach, licked the sharp line of his hipbone, sucked his cock into my mouth just long enough to make him cry out, then pulled back. He was shaking, fisting the sheets, pupils blown.
“Breathe,” I told him gently as I slicked my fingers. “Just breathe for me.”
The first press made him tense, his jaw locking, but I rubbed circles over his thigh, whispered, “That’s it. Let me in.” His body fought, then eased, his breath coming sharp but steady as I worked him open.
“Feels—strange,” he gasped, then groaned when I curled my fingers just right. His back arched, sweat beading at his temples. “Jesus, Emmy—”
“Good strange?” I asked, kissing the inside of his knee.
“Yeah,” he panted. “Good. God, good.”
When I pulled my fingers free, slicking myself, he reached out, grabbed my wrist, eyes wild. “I need you. Now.”
I lined up, pressed slowly, carefully. His body tensed hard, his breath hitching like it hurt. I kissed his mouth, his jaw, every line of tension. “Easy, Kelly. I’ve got you. Just breathe. I’ll stop if you need me to.”
He shook his head fiercely, nails digging into my shoulders. “Don’t stop. Please.”
