Page 41 of Taboo
I kiss her, soft at first, my lips grazing hers, tasting the faint sweetness of her breath. It’s electric, a current that hums through me, pulling me under. I’m lost in her, in the warmth of her mouth, the way her tongue meets mine, slow and hungry. Her fingers slide into my hair, tugging gently, and the kiss deepens. My hand cups her face, my thumb tracing her cheek.
She shifts, her blue sundress riding up, baring the smooth curve of her thighs, and my hand finds her waist, fingers gripping the soft cotton, tugging her closer. Her moan is soft, a vibration against my lips, and it sets me ablaze. My cock aches with need. I’m ready to lose myself in her, right here,consequences be damned. Her hand slips under my shirt, nails grazing my chest, teasing, and my body screams for her. I groan, low and rough.
“I missed you,” she murmurs, her voice low, a little shaky, but laced with a quiet boldness.
Amelia pulls back, her eyes locking on mine, dark with need, a silent question in their depths. She’s awake now, fully, her breath quickening, and she slides off the chaise, her movements as fluid as oil from a bottle.
She takes my hand, her fingers warm and sure, and guides me onto the chaise, pushing me down gently. The studio’s golden light casts soft shadows across her face, her hair glowing like a halo. My heart’s pounding, and I watch, breathless, as she kneels between my legs, her hands resting on my thighs, the heat of her touch searing through my jeans.
Her fingers move to my belt, slow, deliberate, the metal buckle clinking softly as she unfastens it. The sound is intimate, a quiet promise in the hush of the room. She pulls the leather free, her eyes never leaving mine, and there’s love there, raw and reverent, a depth that makes my chest ache. She unzips my jeans, her fingers trembling slightly. I lift my hips, letting her slide them down just enough for my cock, hard and throbbing, to spring free. Her breath catches, a soft gasp, and I see the hunger in her eyes, mixed with something sacred, like she’s worshipping me.
“Amelia,” I murmur, my voice rough, breaking on her name.
She smiles, a fierce passion in her eyes, before leaning in, unafraid. Her lips brush the tip, soft and warm, a tease that sends a jolt through me. My hands clench the chaise, knuckles white.
She takes me into her mouth, her tongue swirling, licking, tasting. It’s overwhelming, the wet heat of her mouth. Her lips curl around my shaft and slide down, taking me deeper. I groan,my head tipping back, the pleasure sharp, almost too much. Her tongue flicks along the underside, her hands gripping my thighs.
The studio’s quiet, save for the soft sounds of her mouth, the faint rustle of her dress, the creak of the chaise under my weight. Her hair falls forward, brushing my skin, and I reach down, tucking it behind her ear, needing to see her, needing to see the unapologetic love in her eyes. They’re dark, glistening, locked on mine, and it’s like she’s pouring her heart into this, every movement a vow, every suck a claim. My breath’s ragged, my hips twitching, and she takes me deeper, her throat relaxing, a low hum vibrating against me that pulls a moan from my chest, raw and desperate. The pleasure builds, a tight coil low in my belly, and I’m close, so close, my hand tangling in her hair, not guiding but holding, anchoring myself to her.
I unravel.
“Fuck me,” I gasp, my voice hoarse.
She moves faster, her lips slick, her tongue relentless, driving me to the edge. The heat of her mouth, the love in her eyes, the way she takes me—it’s too much, and I come hard, a white-hot wave crashing through me, my cock pulsing, spilling into her mouth. She swallows, her eyes never leaving mine, passionate and fierce. My love for her feels so deep it’s like a knife to my heart. My body shakes, my chest heaves as I slump back, spent, my hand still in her hair, my thumb brushing her cheek.
She pulls away slowly, her lips glistening, and rises to her feet, her dress falling back into place. I look at her with wonder. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright with a mix of desire and something tender. My heart swells with so much love it feels like it will burst. I reach for her, wanting to pull her close, to kiss her, to hold her, but a small voice cuts through the haze.
“Aunt Amelia, has Daddy come home?” Jason calls from the corridor outside.
My heart slams to a stop, panic flooding me like ice water. I yank my jeans up, fumbling with the zipper, my hands shaking. Amelia’s face pales with sudden guilt and distress, but she acts immediately. Since she’s decent, she spins away and heads to the door, and I hear her voice speaking, then footsteps pad away, leaving me the time needed to get myself back in order.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
AMELIA
My body’s still slick with desire, as I shut the door and force a smile, and crouch down to his level.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say.
“I fell asleep,” he mumbles, voice thick with drowsiness, and I exhale, relief softening the edges of my fear. We were very quiet, and he didn’t hear anything, didn’t understand that his father was in the studio with me. Thank God. I take his hand, small and warm in mine, and stand.
“Is Daddy home yet?” he repeats, rubbing one eye, his bear dangling from his hand.
“I think so. Your dad came home early,” I say, keeping my tone light, as we walk down the hallway. “He’s taking us out for dinner, somewhere fun. Shall we go get dressed?” My voice trembles slightly, but I cover it with a smile, squeezing his hand gently.
Jason’s eyes light up, a spark cutting through his sleepiness. “Like, pizza or something?”
“Like pizza or something,” I agree.
“Great.”
My mind is churning, but his enthusiasm is infectious, and I smile at him. “Let’s pick out some cool clothes for you, okay?”
I sit on his superhero sheets as he scrambles to his dresser, pulling open a drawer. He sifts through T-shirts and jeans.
“This one!” Jason victoriously holds up a green T-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur, his grin wide.
