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"You said that the night we met. I assumed it was a come-on line."
"It wasn't." My slat won't let me think about why I called her my darling in Gaelic. I raise onto one elbow, offering my hand to her. "Come, and let me show you what I mean."
She crawls across the bed to kneel beside me.
"Emery," I purr, skating my palms up her thighs, under the hem of her nightie, and moving them higher to cup her hips. "Even your name is sensual."
I slide my hands down to catch the edge of her nightie, then flip it up and over her head. She lifts her arms to let me pull the garment free of her body. I toss it aside.
She eyes my erection, running her teeth over her bottom lip.
Laying back, I raise my arms above my head. "Take me."
The surprise on her face melts into a sexy little smile.
"Please," I say, my chest swelling with every labored breath. "Take me, Emery."
She mounts me, straddling my hips, and clasps my cock with both hands. "Sure you can handle me being in control?"
"You've been in control since the night we met." I suck in a breath when she palms my sac. "I surrendered to you then, and I'm done pretending it's not true."
My wife relinquishes my bagais to place two fingers on my lips. "Shh, baby."
I capture her fingers with my mouth, suckling the tips.
She skims her thumb over the head of my cock.
"Ah," I hiss. "Stop torturing me, will ye? I need your soft, wet—"
"I know what you need." With another flick of her thumb, she cups my sac in her other hand, tugs, and grins when I make a strangled noise. "Trust me to give it to you."
"Hurry, love. Ahmno strong enough to withstand your teasing."
Towering over me, she closes her hand around my slat and lowers her body onto my length, inch by inch, her slick heat gliding down my flesh with such exquisite slowness that I start to breathe harder. A groan vibrates through me when she's taken me all the way inside her lush body. She lays her hands on my chest, delicately nibbling on her lower lip while she teases my skin with her fingertips.
I clutch her hips.
She rides me at a leisurely pace, lifting her body almost free of my cock and sliding back down, rocking her hips to make me gasp and grip her harder. I watch as her cream coats my slat and dribbles down her inner thighs to moisten my skin too. The scent of it drives me mad, and I want to feast on all that luscious cream, but not until after she fucks me. When I thrust a finger between her folds to tease her clit, she cries out.
I mutter in Gaelic, between panting breaths, not having a clue what I've said.
The pace quickens along with our mounting desire, and she seems as powerfully aroused as I am, slamming her body down on my cock while I pinch her nipples and rasp my finger over her clit. She moans and rides me harder, faster, our bodies pounding into each other while I arch my hips every time she sinks down on me. She moans my name over and over.
"Rory baby, yes, oh God, Rory baby, yes, Oh God."
"Emery, I love ye, Emery, I love ye."
She comes with such force and speed that she can't even cry out, her nails scraping my chest while her body clenches me fiercely enough that I can't hold back any longer. My body stiffens, then I thrust into her so hard that she bounces on the bed, and I shout her name, spending myself inside her.
I roll us onto our sides, running my hands over her body while we recover from the intense pleasure we just shared.
Did I say… No, I couldn't have. If I did say that, I hadn't meant to, and it was a reflex triggered by an impending orgasm. I don't—She can't believe—No, Emery understands my limitations.
She doesn't believe I love her.
Once our breathing normalizes, I ease Emery onto her back with my body covering hers and my arms framing her head. She opens her mouth, clearly about to speak.
I seal my lips over hers. No talking. Maybe by morning, she will have forgotten what I might or might not have said during sex. I kiss her slowly, using my lips and tongue to erase her memory of those words. Aye, I'm exactly the sort of eejit who thinks that will work.
