Final Call (Call #2)(60)
Author: Emma Hart

He’s right. Him and me. That’s what I want. The sweet, delirious, all-encompassing, shattering shudder of my body tightening around his. Of every muscle in my pu**y clenching and milking his obvious erection for everything it has inside. Of that one single moment where we’re both flying high, prisoners to our pleasure.

“I won’t beg you. Not today.”

“No begging required.”

The clink of plates reaches my ears, and his hands curve around my ass. I wrap my legs around him, and he lifts me, setting me on the bar, and presses his finger to my lips.

“One more,” he rasps. “Okay?”

I nod.

“Open your mouth.”

I do, tilting my head back slightly. The roughness of a shell rests against my bottom lip, and I know what this is before I taste the salty yet slimy fish.

Oyster.

“Bleurgh,” I mutter.

“You live in Seattle and you don’t like oysters?”

“No. I’m not a fan of shellfish,” I reply, feeling him push my legs open.

“You ate shrimp in the Chinese.”

“No, I threw one at you and left the rest piled on the side of my plate.”

He chuckles, standing between my legs. God, don’t step forward.

He does. I push my hips into him at the brush of his erection across the apex of my thigh, and his hands slide up my legs. He slips me across the granite and into him. His erection is hard against my core, rubbing my clit, and if my eyes weren’t already closed, I swear to f**k they’d be squeezed shut so tightly I’d never see again…

This feeling, his hardness against my tenderness while he has me blindfolded, is insanely world-shaking.

Aaron crashes his lips to mine. The oaky taste lingering on him tells me that he’s been sipping whisky as he’s been feeding me. Somehow I’ve been too wrapped up in the overwhelming flavors of the food to notice, but it’s a welcome taste.

It’s warm, touching every part of me, even as his tongue flicks between my lips and begs for entrance into my mouth.

I let him have it, sliding my hands up his arms and into his hair. I tangle my fingers in his silky locks, dreading the day he’ll cut them, and arch myself into him. The rest of his body is as hard and tense as his dick against me, and I take a deep breath.

“I’m really, really not hungry any longer.”

I hear the begging in my voice. The plea. The request.

“I think you need something else.”

I tug on his hair hard. “You’re not the only one who can require, Mr. Stone.”

His lips find my neck and trail down it, peppering kisses. “Tell me, Miss Black. Do you require me to lay you back on our bed and sink my dick so far inside you that we become one?”

“Yep. That. Exactly that.”

He’s the only man I’ve ever met who can bring me to my knees. The only one who can make me shiver in real anticipation, clench in desire, thrust in desperation.

He laughs quietly, sliding his hands across my body, and cups my ass. Slowly, he lifts me, bringing me flush against him, and carries me. I can feel nothing but the rock of his c**k against my clit and the pressure of his fingertips on my butt.

I’ve never had a sexual experience that’s lasted so long. I’ve never felt so strongly about needing to be filled until I scream.

Aaron Stone is a force to be reckoned with.

The softness of our mattress cushions my behind as I’m lowered onto it. I still feel his touch stronger than anything. It’s almost as if he’s caressing my whole body with his fingertips without really moving them, desperate for every inch of me to feel his intoxicating touch.

And I do. Goose bumps erupt across my body, snaking across my skin, making my hairs stand on end, sparking little shivers. I can feel his eyes running from my head to the very tips of my toes. Feel his gaze coast over my curves, pausing on my br**sts and hips.

I don’t know how I know it. Perhaps it’s in the subtle way his breath hitches, getting heavier when he exhales deeply. Perhaps it’s in the twitch of his fingers as they dig deeper into my skin. Or perhaps it’s in the lust and arousal ricocheting between his body and mine.

It’s definitely in the crushing way our lips connect.

The softness of his lips completely contradicts the roughness of his kiss, but the vigor he tugs my zipper down with is completely in line with it. Within seconds, the soft material of my dress is sliding down my body and pooling on the floor at Aaron’s feet.

He pulls back, his teeth grazing my bottom lip and making my clit throb so intensely that I moan. He nibbles down my neck, making me arch my body into him. I tug at the hem of his shirt, and his mouth leaves me for a split second so he can pull it over his head.

I run my fingers down his body, tracing every groove on his stomach until I reach the ‘v’ that dips beneath his jeans to the part of his body I’m craving right now.

His lips across my br**sts, his tongue sliding beneath the cup of my bra to brush across my nipple, his hot breath cascading across my skin. The sensations evoked by this, being blindfolded, are unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It’s so intensely erotic that my skin is humming, completely alive.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, trailing his mouth down my stomach. “Who knew you could be so well-behaved in the bedroom?”

“I can change it.” I drag my nails down his back, digging into his skin when I reach the bottom to make my point.

He takes my hands and spreads my arms to the side on the bed. He kneels, his nose brushing along my core, and blows lightly on me. I wriggle my hips. Shit. If my pu**y wasn’t aching for him already, it definitely is now. It’s throbbing, aching, clenching, desperate for his touch. Any touch.

And then it comes, his fingers pulling my panties down, and his tongue slowly grazes along my hot folds. I whimper and push into him, but it doesn’t faze him. He continues his leisurely pace, exploring every part of me until finally… Oh, God, finally… He presses the tip of his tongue against my clit and rubs hard, resulting in a firework-like explosion of pleasure that makes me tremble uncontrollably.

My heart is pounding dangerously fast, my lungs burning with the force of my rapid breathing. I feel empty as he releases my legs, and through the blood roaring in my ears, I hear the pull of his zipper. The moment the sound of his jeans hitting the floor reaches my ears, the warmth of his body over mine returns.

It’s accompanied by a long, smooth thrust inside me. A tug at the back of my head and the silk tie falls away from my eyes.