He slammed the front door behind us a couple minutes later, and my heart jumped. Oh god, what had I done? What the hell was I thinking telling him that I loved him? That I didn’t want this week to end because I was terrified of losing him? There was only one way to fix this and that was turning around. Letting him know what an absolute mistake I’d just made. Telling him that nothing had changed between us, and we still didn’t need anything more between us to love Matt.
I pressed my hand against the pit of my stomach and faced him slowly, my heart thundering so powerfully I could barely hear what he was saying, my head hung so low the wet strands of hair partially shielded me from the intense green eyes focused on me.
I wanted him.
Despite it all, I wanted everything about Emmett Hudson.
And reneging on my words from the car and telling him my heart felt any different was going to hurt like a hammer to the chest.
“Look, I…” But before I could finish the denial that made my voice stutter, his hands, still slick from the rain, were on my body. One tilted my face up to his and the other grasping my hip. He stroked his thumb from my cheekbone to my temple and a pained smile spread across his features.
“Feeding me a line of bullshit about how you didn’t mean any of what you just told me isn’t gonna make you any stronger, Angel.” He pinned me against the double doors behind me. A whimper escaped my throat, but he drowned it out, his lips slanting over mine, his hand trailing a hot path from my hip to the juncture of my thighs. He shoved the flimsy material of my red dress up and slid his fingers beneath my lace panties, his touch possessive as he circled a knuckle over my clit.
My body jolted against his.
“If anything—" He pulled back slightly, resting his damp forehead to mine and exhaled deeply."—lying about how you feel about me? It’ll make you weaker. You’re scared of commitment because of your childhood and what happened with us. I get that. But I’ll be goddamned if I’m not gonna fight to make this right.”
Blood-rushing to my head—to my core—I bucked my hips against his knuckle and moaned, which he took as an invitation to rub harder, faster. Dear god, I was going to come before I managed to get out what I wanted to say. I gritted my teeth but that didn’t stop me from panting when I said, “We can’t talk about commitment issues with your hands in my panties.”
“Good point.” He drew his fingers from the inside of the lace but left my red dress bunched up around the curve of my hips. When he closed his eyes and traced his tongue over the finger that had just touched me, I thought I’d die.
Instead, I splayed my hands on either side of the doors behind me and took a deep breath. “What if I really don't—”
“You can’t stop blinking long enough to ask me that question.”
Jerking me against his rock hard body, he kissed me once again, this time raw and unapologetic. His tongue challenged mine with little flicks and strokes. When I started to draw away, he shook his head. He grasped my ass, and the sensation of his hands grinding the lacy fabric of my panties against my skin sent a wave of desire through me.
“I’m not blinking,” I moaned against the top of his hair when he dropped his mouth to my collarbone. “I’m not—”
“You’re not telling the truth, beautiful,” he rasped. He skimmed his teeth over the sensitive spot on the side of my neck during his path to my lips, and my legs became putty. We connected again—a tangle of bruising tongues and fingers and bodies—and when I fell back, I was dizzy. “But don’t worry. I’ll kiss away all the lies.”
He started to move down my body, wandering his large hands over my curves as if he was learning me all over again. He touched and kissed his way from my neck to my breasts and stomach and then he looked up at me with a gleam in his eyes that made me tremble.
I squeezed his shoulders hard, stopping him from sinking to his knees in front of me. “What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.
“I never said how I was going to kiss those lies away, Angel.” His gaze never left mine as he hiked my dress higher—until it was around my stomach—and dipped his mouth to my hipbone. I shivered, so he cupped my ass and kissed my hip again. “And I already told you I was going to fuck you until you can’t think straight.”
“I already can’t think straight,” I pointed out. There was no possible way to process any form of coherent thought when the sexiest man I’d ever laid eyes on was kneeling between my legs with his mouth dangerously close to my pussy.
“I want to be with you, Angel.” He traced his nose from my hip to the tiny satin bow in the center of the only barrier between his face and my sex. I heard him inhale, and my body immediately reacted. “I want to be the only man touching you like this. Smelling you. Tasting you.”
“Just … do it,” I whispered because he’d already affected the center of my panties. My body was on fire, burning wild and bright, and he was adding fuel to it by talking to me like this. “Touch me.”
He shook his head. Took in a breath of my scent one more time. “I want to own you, Angel. Spread your legs.” When I complied, he flattened one hand between my thighs and gave my sex a light tap that left me sucking on my bottom lip until I tasted blood. “I’m going to have you. And when we’re done, you’ll own me too.”
“I want you,” I said. “That’s me being honest, that’s—” I sucked in a lungful of air when he ripped my panties right down the middle and let them fall to the tile floor.
“That’s you being a bullshitter.”
Holy fuck, this was happening.
This was happening, and he’d ripped my underwear into two pathetic little pieces, and he was probably about to blow my damn mind out of my head right in the middle of his foyer because I was too afraid of getting hurt to tell him I wanted the fairytale with him.
“Those weren’t cheap,” I admonished him. I dug a hand into his thick dark hair and forced his face up to mine, earning a deliciously sexy grin from him.
“You’re mine, Angel. You can buy all the goddamn pairs of panties you want. Lace.” He kissed the newly exposed skin carefully, keeping his stare focused on mine, and I felt myself swell when his rough fingers grazed my sex. “Satin. Whatever the fuck you want.” He was testing me, circling the tips of three of his fingers over my clit in a steady, rhythmic pattern.
“If you don’t stop, I swear I’m not going to last,” I complained, bowing against him.
“Good, because then I’ll make you come again. I bet you—”
“I’m not betting you how many times you’ll make me come tonight,” I rasped, and he gave my center another tap with the palm of his hand before returning those three magical fingers to my clitoris. I gripped his hair and shoulder because they were the only anchors keeping me from falling to the floor, and he kneaded the smooth curve of my bottom with his free hand.
“You’re not betting me because you know I’d win.” He was probably right, but I wouldn’t tell him that. I was already so close to climaxing and he hadn’t even reached for his zipper yet. He spread me apart again, slicking his fingers over the need that he’d inspired, and let out a low breath of wonderment as he returned his attention to my clit. “Fuck me, you’re so wet.”
“Sooo original, Hudson,” I teased through clenched teeth, and he narrowed his sexy green gaze at me.
“Smart ass.” He gave my bottom a rough pump followed by a slap that echoed through the quiet house. “This wet pussy is mine.” He changed the direction of his fingers. Now, instead of that circle that had me gritting my teeth and rocking against him, he caressed his hand back and forth. Every muscle in my body tightened all at once, and my eyes damn near rolled to the back of my head.
“All mine, Angel,” he growled against my sex, lightly nipping the sensitive flesh as he plunged one finger deep inside me. He curved it slightly so that he touched me in just the right place, and I shuddered and tightened around him. Coming to his feet, he added a second finger, bending that one too as he buried his other hand in my hair. I released a sound from the back of my throat that straddled the line between a scream and a sigh, and he drew my head back so that our eyes met. “That’s my girl. How’s that for original?”
“B-better.” I was stuttering like a fool, grinding up against him like I was an addict and he was my hit of the good stuff. I guess, in a way, he was. He was good and rough and perfect. The heel of his palm slapped against my clit while his fingers plunged in and out of me, hard and fast. I clenched my teeth and sank my fingernails into his shoulders, so he paused for a moment, then slowly moved his hand in a circular motion that left me throbbing all over. “Oh god, so. Much. Better.”
“What was that you were telling me earlier?” he rasped against my mouth between small flicks of the tip of his tongue, and I moved my head from side to side. Dark strands fell into my face, but he caught them, gathering them in his hand with the rest of my hair. “Let me keep you.”
I didn’t want to talk about this. I just wanted him to keep touching me because my body hummed beneath his fingertips. “Not now,” I moaned.
“Yes now.” He pulled my lower lip between his straight teeth, sucking lightly as I tilted my hips toward his hand. Letting my hair tumble around my face and shoulders, he jerked the zipper of my dress halfway down and before I could blink an eye, the bodice was bunched up right along with the rest of the red dress around my stomach.
Holding the small of my back, he arched my body and bent his head to tug one nipple into his mouth. This time, he wasn’t gentle. He was demanding, his chin rough as it moved against my soft flesh, and I released a hoarse gasp because it felt so good. So good I could barely see straight.
“Stay with me,” he said again. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was asking me to stay in the moment or for life because the blood pumping in my ears and brain and sex made logical thinking a thing of the past. “Angel?”
“Not—ohhh my god!” He was doing something different now. Gliding his fingers into my sex and opening them wide just before he drew away, and it drove me insane. “Emmett,” I panted because I was seconds from coming.
Seconds from exploding.
Seconds from everything.
He stood upright and pressed his lips to my ear. “What do you want?” When I murmured something incoherent, his hand went completely still. My brain struggling to process what was happening, I stared up at him with a wide, blue-eyed stare.
“Please, Emmett.”
“I told you I’d play dirty.” He lowered his mouth to my breast again. Dragged his teeth over my nipple. Made me tremble violently. His hand between my thighs remained frozen, and when I wiggled against it, he shook his head. “That I’d kiss you until you weren’t lying.”
“Shut up, Hudson, and—”
Abandoning my breasts, he kissed my throat, then my lips. “You shut up, Brock. I want you. I want you so fucking bad I’m ready to bend you over right here.”
“Do it,” I challenged and tried to move against his hand once more. Again, he finger-blocked me. The asshole.
“Not until—”
“Until I what? Tell you I want you? I do. I want you.” Lifting one hand, I curled my fingers around the base of his throat, and his green eyes darkened with desire. “I love you, and I hate that I haven’t been able to sleep since you came back.”
“Then we’ll sleep together.”
I tightened my grip on his throat, knowing that it wasn’t hurting him at all but feeling a little better. “I hate that I’m afraid of getting my heart ripped out or that—”
“You’re not. Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you again, Angel, because you’re mine.” He crooked the fingers inside my sex, and I released an exhale that was intermingled with a sob. “You. Are. Mine.”
“I—” His hand started rocking back and forth between my thighs again, and I felt the waves building deep within my core. They threatened to pull me under, steal my breath away, and standing there with our breaths becoming one and his sighs of encouragement, I was prepared to let that happen. It couldn’t hurt. Shouldn’t hurt.
“I…” My voice trailed off as I fell off the edge and into the abyss.
“You are mine,” he repeated against my lips as my heart and body burst into a million colors. “Mine.”
“Yes,” I whispered, bobbing my head up and down as mouth trailed from mine to kiss the tears away from my cheeks. He gave my sex one final thrust then he pulled away, smearing his warm fingers over my thighs. “Yes, I’m yours.”
“Say it again, three times fast,” he said with a smile.
“I’m yours,” I whispered, sounding a little more sure of myself. He kissed the tip of my nose in a chaste kiss, and plumped my breast. “I’m yours.” This time it was a bit louder, but he didn’t look satisfied. Dropping his hand from my breast, he wedged it between our bodies and squeezed my clit between his thumb and forefinger.
I thought for sure I wouldn’t climax. Not again, not so goddamn soon. But I didn’t anticipate the sweet, overwhelming friction between the pads of his fingers and my flesh. And I sure as hell didn’t plan on that deliciously painful little flick—once, twice, then a third time—against my clitoris. It sent a subtle vibration through my body that quickly burst into an uncontrollable tremor.
At last, I threw my head back and cried out, “Yes, I’m yours! I’m yours. I’m fucking yours.”
“That’s my beautiful girl,” he rasped. I was still on fire when I dropped my face against his chest, breathing heavily, breathing him in. “Christ, I love you.”
My lips quivered when I tried to respond, but no words came out. So I reached for his collar, tugging and jerking him to me, and he let out a sound that was deep and loud and ripe with need. Cupping my bottom and lifting me, he elbowed the contents off the accent table by the front doors and sat me on top of it.
His mouth and hands went everywhere: on my breasts and in my hair and brushing over the little scar on my stomach from the bellybutton ring I’d removed before I met him. I touched him too.
I raked my fingers through his short dark hair when he did the same to me, echoing his movements by tugging lightly. I undid each button of his black and blue checked shirt and shrugged it off his broad shoulders. It fell on the floor next to my ripped panties, and I almost regretted that I hadn’t torn the damn thing off his chest.
“You’re so … fit.” I sighed, spanning my fingers from the steampunk eagle tattoo covering his golden, toned chest to his six-pack abs. He flexed—oh lord, he flexed—and I swallowed hard. “I could probably spend all night touching you just like this,” I said breathlessly, but then my knuckles brushed over the light trail of hair that went from his navel to the inside of his jeans.
Screw touching his abs.
I reached for his belt buckle, and the dark chuckle that slipped past his lips made my skin tingle.
It took me a few tries, mainly because he was digging in his back pocket for what I soon discovered was a gold foil packet, but his jeans were soon in a puddle around his ankles along with his underwear.
He was already rock hard—long and thick, exactly how I remembered—and his cock twitched in my palm when I wrapped my fingers around him. Keeping my gaze locked with his, I stroked my hand up his length, giving him a tight squeeze at the head of his erection. His mouth opened to release a shuddering sigh when I let him go.
“I need you inside of me,” I breathed. “Please, Emmett, I need to feel you.”
Opening the foil to prepare himself, he kicked his jeans off along with his boots and positioned his body between my knees.
“Spread your legs apart. Wide,” he ordered. I tried, but when another aftershock from one of the orgasms rolled through me, he gave me a sympathetic smile and guided my knees far, far apart so that I was completely exposed to him. “That’s my girl.”
“Are you gonna pet me now?” I teased, then sucked in a breath when he gave my pussy a gentle stroke.
“You’re perfect, Kinsey,” he said, staring boldly at my sex. I flushed. When I tried to clench my thighs together, he tapped the inside of each with the back of his hand. “I know you’ll be so tight, so good.”
“I need to—”
“Shhh.” He covered my mouth with his, claiming my lips until they felt bruised. Hooking his hands behind my knees, he brought me to the edge of the console table. Grabbing himself in one hand, he spread me carefully with the other and rubbed the tip of his cock back and forth.
I gritted my teeth in agony. “Don’t you think you should—oh, I don’t know—just do it already.”
“Fuck, you’re greedy, Angel,” he drawled.
When he gave me a cocky grin and a half-shrug, I knew he planned to tease me for a long time to come, but I wasn’t about to let him get away with that shit. Not after he’d already used my body’s reaction to him to lay claim to my heart and soul.
“Isn’t that exactly”— I wrapped my legs as tightly as I could around his torso and bucked my hips toward him. His cock squeezed past my opening, filling me completely, and I swore my eyes probably crossed because he felt that good—“what you wanted?”
I’d intended to turn the tables on him for teasing me, but those last few words I spoke were faint and pleading. Even though his eyes were squeezed shut and he was clutching my hips like he was holding on for dear life, a broad grin split his face. “Panting, beautiful?”
“Shut up,” I hissed, and he murmured something into the crook of my neck as he slid out of me and then thrust back in. He repeated, pumping in and out of me. The table beneath me banged against the wall, but he didn’t seem to care if we tore his whole house apart as we consumed each other.
“This. Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” he moaned and reached between us to thumb my clit. Dear god, he was right. This felt too good. Too perfect to be my reality. I was sitting in Emmett’s front entrance, posted up against his foyer table, his incredible cock deep inside my body and touching me in places that had me speaking a whole new language.
He was right about something else, too.
I didn’t want to let this go.
I wouldn’t.
Couldn’t.
“You’re gonna come again soon,” he groaned, and I shook my head. “Don’t lie, Angel. I can feel it. You’re so wet, so perfectly tight.”
“Originality. Those are song lyrics,” I rasped. At least, I think that’s what I said. The orgasm he predicted was already blazing through me, creating a buzz in my ears that made my words sound like complete gibberish.
“Fuck originality,” he growled. He drove himself into me faster and harder, moving within me like a man possessed. I clenched my legs around him. Pulled him so close to me so that we shared the same breathless sighs, the same sweat, same beating heart. As he came, he did so with my name on his lips—a mixture of Angel, Kinsey, and beautiful—and my moans pierced the space around us as he thrust into me the final few times.
We were both still shaking when he carried me to his bedroom.