Page 47 of Secret Heart
She pauses, her hand flat on the small of my back. “You live in Big Sky?”
“A condo there, yeah. I’m just renting it. The lease ends in June.”
“Big Sky is beautiful,” she whispers.
I shrug. “And filled with very rich people who don’t understand or appreciate all the blue collar workers that make the place so desirable to live in.”
She hums. “That’s fair. Jackson’s similar, especially up near the ski resorts.”
Her touch resumes, a light caress up my spine and then along the back of my neck.
“Brielle’s friend from Denver is coming soon. We’re all going camping with them a week from Saturday.”
“The one from two years ago?”
She hums, and her fingers trace down my shoulder and then back. “Do you want to come with us?”
A warm and weightless sensation builds under my sternum and has tears burning my eyes. I close them to keep from getting my new blankets wet.
“I’d love to,” I admit into the pillows.
She hums again, the sound happier than before.
I shiver as she traces my ear and then runs her thumb along my jaw, marking me with her scent again. I breathe in the vanilla, letting it cocoon me just like the blankets. I can’t help but groan as a cramp tightens my stomach. My scent thickens again, and I bury my head deeper into the pillows around me.
Emily quietly urges me onto my back, her hands demanding and yet soft, her nails leaving trails of sensation in their wake. Her eyes are bright, her cheeks sharp with her desire. Vanilla weaves around us, blending with the soured clove of my own scent until it’s all I can think about. My dick jumps as she traces the line of my Adonis belt and then the waistband of my underwear. Her touch is feather light as she runs a nail along the underside of my dick, and I bite back a moan.
“Your scent,” she whispers, tracing my other hipbone.
Her nails dig into my skin as it pushes out from me in another wave, still sour. I lift my hips, praying for even a softbrush of her arm or hand or,fuck, anything. That haze that’s become my normal state of being settles over me, not quite as bad as Saturday and yet enough that I’ll beg on my knees again if that’s what she wants.
“Y-yeah,” I mutter. “Sorry.”
She pulls my underwear down low enough my dick springs free. It’s already leaking, small drops falling onto my belly. I push up toward her, and she smirks. Then her hand is around the base, tight enough I gasp. She slowly slides her hand up and then back down. I can’t hold back the whine.
Her scent pulses.
“You like it when I whine?” I ask.
She nods, then straddles me in one fluid motion without letting go of my aching cock. The loose dress she wears hikes up her thighs, giving the smallest glimpse of lacy red panties. I palm her thigh, running my finger along the edge of the panties. She leans forward, letting me pull them to the side as she kisses along my shoulders. Her teeth are sharp points of pain that have me gasping for breath and squirming underneath her. At this rate, my entire torso is going to be covered in dark bruises from her mouth. I can’t make myself care as I press my thumb against her clit and her legs tremble the barest amount.
I arch into her as her teeth bite where my shoulder meets my throat. It’s hard enough I know she’s so damn close to breaking the skin.
“Whimper again,” she breathes, her lips skimming the sensitive spot just behind my ear.
The noise claws its way out of my throat entirely on its own, a pathetic, desperate sound. Her hand tightens around my dick. She slides just a bit lower, forcing my hand back to her thigh and letting her clit rub against the underside of my cock. I buck at the slight touch, and cloves surround us again. Already, the sourness of the touch-starvation has lessened.
My entire body aches for her, need cutting through me like a river across a mountain valley, rocks crumbling under its force. She runs her pussy across my dick, and my entire being shakes. Slick coats my thighs, and she slowly traces a finger through it. Her eyes flutter closed as she slowly licks it clean.
“Fuck,” I groan. “Please, Emily. I need to be inside you. Let me feel you.”
She looks over her shoulder.
It’s only then I realize Beau’s leaning against the threshold, his own erection tenting his sweats. He’s shirtless, and I soak in the dusting of hair across his chest and his smooth muscles as they ripple with his easy movement across the room. He hands Emily a condom without comment, and she wastes no time ripping it open and rolling it on my dick. My eyes are still caught on Beau, though. His fingers are strong and calloused, and I need them around my throat, need them twisted in my hair.
He raises an eyebrow when he realizes I’m focused on him rather than Emily.
“Please,” I whisper.
