The world fades away as I take in my favorite shade of green, leaving nothing but me and the woman I once declared I’d follow to the end of the earth.
Electricity courses between us as all the unease of our earlier exchanges disappears. I firm my grip around her waist, tugging her in closer, careless that she may hear the brutal pounds of my heart.
Emerson’s gaze remains steadfast, the scent of her skin thickening my cock.
Lust flickers in her hooded gaze as the space between us narrows even more. I caress her cheek, sending surges of electricity rocketing up my arm. All doubts vanish when she leans into my embrace. Her eyes close for the briefest second, asif making sure she isn’t dreaming, before they open again, fired with desire.
The urge to kiss her, to forgive and forget, grows stronger the brighter her eyes become. Her gaze is vulnerable but filled with the same hope flooding my veins. They offer a glimpse of how explosive we could be again if we stopped looking back and only peered forward.
Its silent promise is an aphrodisiac, and I’m dependent on its powers in under a nanosecond.
A desperate mewl vibrates against my lips when I roll my hips upward. I don’t know if it came from Emerson or me. It could be the combination of our desperations.
“Please,” Emerson begs, her breaths whistling between her teeth.
When I stabilize her hips, she rocks against me, stroking herself with the length of my thickened cock. My dick is hard and aching, so its rocks against her heated core cause the perfect amount of friction.
I want to fuck her, desperately. But it has nothing on how badly I want to kiss her.
Kissing is the one thing I’ve deprived myself of for the past ten years.
It is the sole thing I reserved for my wife.
As the ferocious need to fuck claws at me, I brush my nose down Emerson’s cheek, drinking in a scent that is uniquely hers, before saying, “If we do this?—”
Our faces are half an inch apart, the anticipation palpable when Emerson pushes past the barrier I am attempting to keep erect between us.
She squashes her lips against mine.
The world stops when my lips part at the request of her lashing tongue and she spears it into my mouth. Our kiss is soft and gentle, but it swiftly moves to passionate when I take chargeof our exchange. I am desperate to taste her again, so within seconds of Emerson handing over the reins, my tongue strokes the roof of her mouth as my throat traps her husky moans.
The flavors that erupt on my taste buds make my chest ache. They’re so familiar, so wanted. They remind me of the good times I thought I’d never have again and have me frantic to relish every second.
Our kiss overflows with the emotions we’ve suppressed, and within minutes, it consumes me.
I kiss her with everything I have, evolving her excitement while also claiming her as I struggled not to the moment I laid eyes on her again.
Emerson’s fingers get lost in my hair as she pulls me closer, deepening our embrace. She returns my kiss with as much intensity—with as much ownership.
Our kiss feels as long as an eternity and as minute as a heartbeat at the same time. I’m raring for more and far from having my fill, but I also want it to end so we can take this to a more suitable location. This tourist spot isn’t as popular in the winter months, but its beauty still attracts a handful of tourists each day.
Again, I rock my hips upward, needing her to feel how much I want her, before I attempt to pull back.
I say attempt because Emerson pounces again before a snippet of air can separate us. She kisses the column of my throat before nuzzling her cheek against the two-day stubble I’ve not had the chance to shave.
A shudder rolls through me when she confesses how much she has missed my smell, and then it shivers through her when I roll her over.
After looping my arm around her back and yanking her hips upward, I reunite our lips. I kiss her like I’m not out of practice with modern-day techniques, and Emerson can’t get enough.
She moans my name and arches her back as sparks of pleasure rain over her skin. Then her breathing stills when I wedge a hand under her woolen sweater.
We rock in sync for the next several minutes while I tweak her nipples through her lacy bra. I’m so fucking hard, and my dick is leaking pre-cum so much that I’m certain there will be a wet patch in the front of my jeans by the time we finish, but I don’t give a fuck.
I couldn’t stop this now even if we suddenly received an audience.
Emerson is all fire and lust. She moans into my mouth while rubbing against me, grinding her sweet-scented pussy along the length of my shaft. My balls tighten as our grind-up offers a spicy prelude to how explosive the sex will be when we finally give in to the tension.
Last night, I slowed down our rhythm, not wanting our frantic thrusts to wake her.
