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I throw myself at him, kissing him, swallowing those silly words.
He tangles his hands in my hair and kisses me back, and then between licks and sucks, he peels off my shirt and my jeans and the questionable maternity underwear.
“It’s bedtime,” he rumbles. “Time for goodnight kisses.”
I pout as he pulls back the blankets, which only makes him laugh.
“This feels like a bait and switch,” I insist. “You got me naked and now you only want a good night kiss before bed?”
His heavy brows lift, his eyes glittering. “I said kisses, plural. And you didn’t ask me where they would be.”
Disappointment does a backflip costume change into delight as he climbs on top of me, bracketing me against the pillows.
He’shugeabove me, his arms thick and strong on either side of my shoulders, long enough that there’sspacebetween us, but like…no oxygen.
I can’t breathe, for sure, but I don’t need to because he leans in and kisses me, softly this time, and that’s better than air.
That’s better than almost anything else in this world.
Then he kisses my jaw, and my neck. “Bedtime kisses for your pretty tits,” he whispers before cupping my breasts and worshipping my nipples.
“Bedtime kisses for baby,” he says as he works his way down my body, leaving my tits aching and swollen, his lips brushing over my lower belly now.
Then he shoulders my thighs open, stretching them wide, and I squirm as he looks at my pussy.
“Endless bedtime kisses,” he murmurs, his gaze dark and fierce, before ducking his head and licking straight up my center.
My back arches off the bed and my hands shoot to his head, burrowing into his hair.
“Oh my God.”
He flicks my clit with his tongue. “Who?”
“Mr. Emerson?” I gasp.
A harder flick this time, and his beard rubs against my inner thighs as he shakes his head.
“Mack,” I breathe.
He latches on with a satisfied hum and sucks, sending shooting stars spiralling up my spine to burst in front of my eyes.
But he doesn’t chase that spike of pleasure and push me over the edge. He settles in and kisses me slower after that, longhungry licks that feel so good I could melt, followed by swiping flicks that make me moan.
I imagine this is what floating in the ocean must be like. Endless waves pushing and pulling, a force too powerful to properly be perceived, only felt. And I am at its mercy. Mack’s mercy.
Not God. Just my boss, kissing me goodnight between my legs.
And then the pleasure starts to climb.
I can’t stop it. It’s a wave so big it might drown me, and I’m screaming, coming apart, gripping Mack’s hair like a lifeline. His mouth works against my pussy, his tongue thick and relentless, licking everywhere. It pushes inside me, making my head spin, then pulls up to my clit, where the fireworks happen.
When my hips lift off the bed, he puts his hands beneath me and tips me up.
“Come for me,” he growls. “Come on my face, Isabelle. Let me have this. I’ve missed you so much.”
Stunned, I stare at him. He holds my gaze, and time stops. His face is wet from me, his beard glistening, and it’s obscene. He’s holding my hips in the air, my belly pushing up between us too, a curve that puts an exclamation mark on whatever this is between us.
Don’t you know yet, Isabelle Bright?
