“Words, Ems. Tell me you understand.”
She rolls her eyes, and the sass makes my cock jump. She sees it, and the eye roll turns into a devilish smirk. “I understand.”
“Good. Hold on tight, Pretty Girl. Let’s see how well you take this dick.”
Emma grabs my ass and opens her mouth, swallowing me down, taking me all the way to the back of her throat in one go. My breath stutters out and I have to lock my knees to keep from collapsing right onto the floor.
Gathering Emma’s hair in one hand so I can see theWrighton the back of her jersey while she kneels in front of me, I pull out and rock back in firmly. Emma moans around me and when she drops her hand, fingers circling her clit, I almost black out.
“That’s right, Pretty Girl. Rub that needy clit while I use your mouth like my own personal fuck toy. But don’t you fucking dare let yourself come. That pleasure is mine and mine alone today. You’re going to take my cum down your throat then I’m going tolick that pussy until you come all over my face. How does that sound?”
Emma hums around me while her fingers work between her legs and my name is splayed across her back. The visual is going to be burned into my brain for all eternity. I always associated my hockey career with a painful past. But now, looking down at Emma, my name branded across her back, all I can think about is an exciting future.
I pull back again and thrust into her mouth, more roughly this time. She takes everything I give her. The warm, wet pressure of her mouth on me and her tongue gliding along the underside of my cock is so intense that I can’t hold back anymore. Trusting Emma to know her limits, I let loose, pulling out and snapping my hips forward again and again, getting a little deeper every time.
When Emma gags around me and her throat constricts around the head of my cock, I almost come on the spot. I look down at her, her eyes watery and filled with lust and face a mess of tears and spit. Love and possession wind together inside of me so intensely that I wonder if there is a limit to how much I can feel, or if I am destined to be overwhelmed by Emma for the rest of my days.
My orgasm starts to build with a tingling at the base of my spine and my hips move as if on their own, needing to get closer, deeper, faster. More. Just, more. Of everything. Emma must feel the same because I watch her fingers move faster over her clit and I know she’s close too.
Our eyes lock and I reach down and take the hand that Emma has anchored on my hip, winding our fingers together as I fuck into her mouth. The moment is filthy and raw and full of so much love and devotion it’s a wonder my chest doesn’t just burst from the intensity of it all. As the pleasure sharpens and intensifies, my mouth starts spilling words.
“Shit, Ems. I’m so close. Your mouth is unreal. You feel fucking amazing around my cock, Pretty Girl. I love you. You’re everything. There’s no one but you. Forever. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m coming.”
I thrust forward two more times before I come like a supernova, my orgasm taking me over, stars bursting behind my eyes and pleasure spreading up my spine and down my limbs in a release that seems to go on forever as I spill down Emma’s throat. She takes everything I give her, and when she finally sucks me dry, I pull her up and seal my mouth over hers. She tastes like me, and her body shakes with her own arousal.
Picking Emma up, I lay her on the bed and kneel in front of her, pushing her legs apart and latching onto her swollen clit, sucking hard while I push two fingers inside, fucking her with them while I flick my tongue over her clit. She’s dripping wet and her legs are shaking violently, and the groan that comes from her chest is wild and wanton and goes straight to my dick.
“Oh my god, Jeremy, don’t fucking stop.” Emma moans as she grinds her pussy against me, riding my face while I suck harder, shove my fingers deeper.
“Never,” I mumble against her, relishing in her taste, her scent, the feel of her pleasure coating my face. “Come for me, Pretty Girl. Let me drink you down.”
Grabbing Emma’s hips, I hold her tightly against my mouth while I devour her, and she detonates, slapping a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries while she writhes under my mouth, milking out every last drop of her pleasure.
When Emma collapses back onto the bed, I stand and stretch out next to her, pulling her closer to me, rolling on my side so we’re face to face, wrapped together with barely a centimeter between our bodies. My hand glides up and down her back under the jersey she still wears.
“Jesus,” Emma gasps out, kissing my shoulder and leaning her head back so it rests on my bicep. “Who knew an old jersey from eBay would make you so…feral.”
I huff out a laugh, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It’s you, Pretty Girl. You in the jersey took my fucking breath away.”
“Well, I’m hanging onto it because we’ll definitely need to do that again. Do you think it will always be like that? So…explosive?” Emma kisses my shoulder again and looks up at me, her chest still rising and falling rapidly.
I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. “God, I hope so. You’re fucking perfect for me. I love you so damn much. I…” I break off, feeling an unexpected rise of emotion.
“Jer, what is it?” Emma runs a hand down my chest, tangling our legs together to get impossibly closer.
“I just…I know I’m not the easiest person to love. My head is still a mess, and I have stuff to deal with, and I guess I just wanted to say thank you. For sticking with me and not letting me run. I promise I’ll show you every day how much I love you. How much I want you and our life together.”
Emma props herself up so she’s hovering above me. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You make me so damn happy, and I told you, if you run, I’ll just come and find you. So thanks for sticking around and saving me the trouble. Life doesn’t always have to be sunshine and rainbows and fucking in boxing rings and old hockey jerseys. It’s okay to feel sad or hurt or angry or whatever you need to feel. Just feel it with me, okay? Talk to me, Jeremy. Tell me everything because I like the sound of your voice.”
Too overcome with emotion and gratitude for this woman and this day, I gather Emma close and wrap my arms around her tighter, stroking her silky red hair and feeling her against me, thinking for the first time that there is nothing I can’t get through, as long as I have her with me.
We get ten more minutes of quiet before Maddy wakes up. Then it’s a loud breakfast with four different kinds of cereal and Emma making fun of me for my overly sweet coffee, and both girls making fun of me for my failed attempt at braiding Maddy’s hair. And arguing with Maddy over why brushing her teeth in the morning is non-negotiable and a frantic search for a missing pink sneaker and pressing Emma against the fridge and kissing her senseless while Maddy makes gagging noises behind me. And walking to the bus stop with both of my girls’ hands in mine and sliding an arm around Emma’s waist while we watch Maddy climb the bus stairs and standing on the sidewalk and watching the bus until it disappears around the corner.
Emma smiles up at me with a hand on my chest, the November morning sun turning her hair to fire.
“Want to go for a run?”
I lean down and kiss her, my hand on her cheek, thumb stroking her cheekbone.