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But there’s no way she’s coming without me inside of her. And bringing her to the edge like this will make the finale even more explosive for her.
“Don’t worry, Doe. That was only the warm-up.”
She can’t see my smirk in the unlit space.
I can barely see the outline of her sensuous body lying on the table, but I can hear her shifting beneath me. And I can feel her wild, frustrated gaze searching through the darkness for my face. I line the tip of my cock up with the heat of her opening and push into her in one hard thrust. She gasps as she molds to my steely flesh. She’s tight, but she’s so wet that I’m able to slide right in.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to watch myself slide into her right now.
I’ve never had sex without a condom before. Oakley and I didn’t take that chance when we were together, and I wasn’t close enough with any of the other women over the years, so the trust was never there. Emerson and I had a conversation recently. I saw her packet of pills on the kitchen counter, and she confessed she’d been on them for years to regulate her periods. She was recently tested after ending her relationship with med-school dude, and I get tested regularly through hockey. So, she gave me the green light. And I’m taking it. But I never knew it would feel like this.
I grasp her hips and drag her body down until her lower half is hanging off the desk. I pull out a bit, sinking right back in, groaning when my balls hit her ass this time. I don’t take it for granted that she’s trusting me to take her bare. And she feels so good that I’m sure I won’t last. I didn’t last long the other night either.
I lean over until our chests are aligned and our breaths are mixing. My tongue traces the outline of her mouth right before I capture her lips. Our tongues dance a slow tango as she tastes herself on my lips. I continue to thrust in and out of her wet heat. I groan when she reaches between us to caress my balls. The tingling increases at the base of my spine.
I can’t get enough of this girl. It seems she feels the same when she snakes her arms around my neck, pulling me into her. Her back arches as she moans.
I smile as I start pumping harder into her. The rhythm jolts her body every time I thrust, sliding her up the table. She’s clawing at my back, and I’m holding her thighs further apart.
“Ahh,” she moans.
I feel her spasming around my cock.
That small thread that I was grasping on to snaps. I explode.
One of my hands drops to the table for support as my neck strains, and a sound erupts from deep inside my chest that I don’t recognize. Sweat beads on my forehead. My heart is beating out of my chest. And all the while, the pleasure extends as Emerson keeps pulsing around me.
Her body finally goes limp. I collapse on top of her, chuckling.
“Fuck,” I gasp out.
“That was …” Her voice dies off as she searches for the right words to describe what just happened.
“I know,” I say, at a loss as well. It just keeps getting better.
She winds her arms around my neck, holding me to her. I kiss along her jaw before landing on her mouth, lingering there for a moment or two. I’m still inside her. I’m not ready to leave yet.
I smooth my hands down her thighs, her skin silky and soft beneath the pads of my fingers. Placing one last kiss on her neck, I rise, and we separate.
“I need a shower,” I say, running a hand through my disheveled hair.
“Want company?” she purrs.
“If it’s you … always.”
I search for my pants in the dark, removing the St. Jude necklace from the pocket. I slide it overhead. The metal feels cool against the hot skin of my chest.
“Let’s go,” I say. I hear her soft footsteps trailing behind me.
We search for candles in the hall closet and in the drawers of the kitchen. The lights pop back on before we’re settled in the bathroom, but we turn them off again, showering by candlelight instead. When we’re clean, we scour the kitchen, finding some spaghetti that Milo left in the fridge and eating it straight from the container. It’s still dark inside, except for the light coming from the refrigerator when we open the door or the flickering of a candle nearby. Emerson is in my T-shirt, and I’m wearing nothing but black boxer briefs and the necklace she bought me.
With our stomachs full, we fall onto my thousand-thread-count sheets together. She lies in the crook of my arm and plays with the necklace in between us, tracing the lines of my chest and abdomen with her fingertips. I tell her all about dinner and Alexa’s mother, Adeline. She tells me about the phone call between her and her sister.
All the tension from earlier has melted away with our confessions. All the walls have been demolished. We laugh, and we kiss. Minutes drift into hours. We make love again. I hold her in my arms afterward, enjoying the feel of her nestled against my body, until we both drift off to sleep.
The entire time, I’m thinking … I never knew what I was missing. This must be what intimacy is.
And I don’t want to ever forget the way I feel right now. For the first time in years, I’m Jude, the patron saint of hope and impossible causes rather than the lost cause I always thought myself to be.
