Authors: Karen-Anne Stewart
Emma’s eyes never leave mine as my breath hitches roughly when she puts her warm hand over my throbbing length, squeezing just enough to prove she owns me. Damn if she hasn’t owned me from the moment those eyes met mine, and, by the look in those eyes now, she
knows
it.
I want to taste you like you did me,” she whispers, her fingers slipping inside my boxers and pressing tight against my pulsating shaft as she begins an up and down rhythm that forces me to grip her shoulders to keep my knees from buckling; her every touch feels so damn good.
“If you put your mouth on me now, after not having you for so long, I’ll explode, Emma,” I mutter gutturally. “I’ll let you put that sweet mouth all over me tomorrow, but, right now, I’m making you mine,” I growl, grabbing her arms and pushing her on the bed.
I wanted tonight to be slow, special, like that romantic crap in the movies, but to hell with that; the hunger in her eyes is just as intense as mine, and there’s no way I can hold anything back with her. Emma’s on her knees, stripping out of her shirt and jeans, as I rip my clothing off, throwing it to the side. Her mouth crashes into mine and I welcome it, tasting her hunger and fueling it with my tongue as I invade her mouth, pushing her back down on the bed.
“Emma, I’ve been waiting for this so long.” My voice is beyond husky and deep, and she laughs.
“Shut up and make love to me, Breck.”
I do just that, pouring every ounce of love inside of me into her as I finger her opening, flashing a proud, cocky grin when I feel her dripping for me. I thrust inside of her, and she cries out with pleasure. My mouth is all over her skin, tasting, teasing, lavishing, as she writhes underneath me. I feel a difference in her. Even with the first time we made love, she was the best I’ve ever had, but now, it’s like she has let all the guilt go and she’s free, given me everything she’s got, and I have to grit my teeth, forcing myself not to burst until I hear her screaming my name with her own release.
Plunging myself deep inside of her, I feel myself building, and I clench my jaw so tightly it hurts, trying to hold back. She’s so damn hot and tight, it feels like heaven every time I thrust into Emma and I lose myself, succumbing to her touch, he
r sweetness, everything she is. My fingers dig into her skin as I feel her clench around me, making me swell impossibly bigger as she pulsates, crying out my name as her body arches wantonly into mine, pushing me even further inside of her. I can’t hold back any longer and I fill Emma with such vigor tears spring to my eyes.
Emma’s still writing underneath me as I collapse on top of her, panting breathlessly as I kiss her neck and ear, “God, I love you, Emma.”
She purrs with pleasure, and that sexy as hell sound swells me instantly, making me ready for round two. Pushing up on my elbows, I hover over her, “I think it’s time to give you what you need now, Emma.”
“You already have given me everything I need,” she whispers, her warm breath sending shivers against my neck.
“No, Emma, not everything.” I wrap my arm around her stomach and pull her body, slick from our exertion, against me. My hardened state is pressed against the back of her thighs and the delicious curve of her ass as I lower us into the chair. Pressing her back tightly against my chest, my tongue slides against the nape of her neck, tasting the sweet sweat of her skin as my fingers find her breast and still recovering slit between her legs. Teasing, circling, and gently tugging on her nipple, my mouth never leaves her neck while my other fingers slide up and down her wet heat mercilessly.
Her body’s still flushed from her previous release, but I can feel her tense, climbing that euphoric high again. A gasp escapes and her back arches as my fingers move faster, sliding up and down between her wet folds and tugging harder at the peak of her breast. The sensations of feeling her body respond so willingly and openly to mine is overwhelming, and I nearly come undone when she pushes against my fingers, begging for more and matching my pace as she squirms in my lap, causing me to become painfully harder. I press my full, throbbing length against the soft flesh of her bottom and lower back, and she cries out.
Finding the spot that drives her insane, I press my finger against it tightly, changing direction and rapidly rubbing from side to side. I nip at the back of her neck, my teeth grazing her skin then my tongue lavishing the sensitive flesh as my finger tweaks and tugs harder at her nipple. Another loud cry escapes those sweet lips and she loses all control, her body thrashing and clawing against my body, the chair, anything she can grab onto, while the furious pace of my finger rubs against her until she is in a wild frenzy ready to explode.
The taste of her skin against my tongue elicits a deep growl from my stomach up through my throat. I need her more than I need to breathe as I press my fingers tighter against her soft wet nub, circling, teasing, sliding side to side, up and down, in and out, until she bursts into an intense flaming release, her fingers clawing my thighs.
“No, baby, don’t finish yet,” I growl, lifting her from my lap and bending her over the edge of the bed before slamming into her. I feel as if I’m in an out of body experience as I float, feeling every single heady sensation as I take control, digging my fingers into her skin and wrapping my hands tightly around her waist as I drive into her faster, harder, wildly reckless. Her orgasm seems to last forever as she spirals out of control underneath me. I feel her tighten, shattering again and again until she screams my name, panting and writhing from the intensity. I give three more forceful thrusts; my fingers tighten, digging further into her skin, as I feel like I’m going to die from how good she feels. I muse at how it would be the sweetest death as I erupt, spilling violently inside of Emma.
My body is drained as I pull hers close, cradling her in my arms. Emma curls against me, her head tucking against my neck, as her hair tangles in the stubble on my chin. It’s several minutes before our breathing returns to normal, and she lets out a contented sigh, “I want to do that with you every single night, Breck.”
“Now,
that’s
something I know I can handle,” I laugh, brushing my lips across her neck and placing my hand on her stomach, feeling undeniably blessed.
“Oh, God, Emma, don’t push, not yet!” I push her legs back together.
She pants, breathing in and out raggedly, “Then-drive-FASTER!”
I press my foot down hard on the pedal, “Okay, I’m driving!”
Traffic isn’t working for me as I weave in and out of lanes in the new car I bought Emma, trying to reach the hospital. “How you doing over there?”
Emma raises her head from her chosen spot against the window. Her damp hair sticks to her forehead. Her cheeks are flushed and taut. She glares at me, her blue eyes spitting fire. “How does it look like I’m doing?” she growls before grabbing her stomach and gritting her teeth as a loud groan erupts more like a roar.
I push the pedal harder.
“Are we almost there?” she yells.
“Working on it, Em!” I try to assure her as I jerk the car across two lanes of traffic to get ready to take the next exit.
Her legs spread and she grips the door frame before gripping my wrist.
“Holy crap, Emma!” I wince as her nails dig into my skin and her fingers press against my wrist like a vise.
“You haven’t seen anything, Steele, if you don’t get me to the hospital, now!” she pants, her breathing becoming more labored.
“Just keep your legs closed, okay?”
“Yeah, because that’s gonna keep the baby from coming, idiot!” she growls vehemently.
“Damn, woman, you’re mean when you’re in pain,” I try to tease. She finds no humor in that.
I jerk the vehicle to a stop in front of the ER and jump out, sliding across the hood before yanking her door open. Men with a wheelchair come out of the sliding glass doors. “Over here!” Emma’s hands are gripping the dashboard, and I take her arm, trying to help her out, but she slaps my hands away.
“Alright, Mrs., we’re going to put you in this wheelchair and take you in while your husband moves the car,” the medic explains.
Emma grabs my hand, jerking me towards her, “Don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
I toss the keys to the other medic. “Sorry, buddy, you’re going to have to do the honors,” I call over my shoulder as I try not to wince from her bruising grip while I follow them to the delivery room.
Emma tries to stifle her cry, but can’t keep from groaning in pain as she arches her back, almost falling out of the wheelchair.
“Is she supposed to be in this much pain?” I panic, squeezing her hand.
“It is labor,” the jackass quips.
“Well, give her something!” I bark, blanching when she lets out a loud cry.
“We’ll call the anesthesiologist when we get her in the room.”
Emma doubles over in pain, grabbing her lower belly.
“Screw that, you’ll call him now!”
Two male nurses pick her up and move her to a bed, one taking a quick cursory glance at her pelvic area, “There’s no time for that, the baby’s coming now! Call the doctor.”
Scrubs are shoved my way and I scramble into them, barreling into the room. Emma grabs my hand, squeezing the hell out of it, when she has another contraction.
“Her water just broke twenty minutes ago!” I blurt, confused at how everything is moving so fast.
“The baby doesn’t seem to care about that,” the same jackass blurts, and I want to shove his face against my knee but I don’t; I need him to help Emma right now.
A pained grunt fills the air and my fingers get squeezed to the point I think my bones might break. “BRECK!”
“I’m here, baby, just breathe.”
“Push, Emma,” the nurse orders, “we don’t have time to wait on the doctor.”
My hand goes numb as Emma grunts, her face turning scarlet as she pushes. Her forehead is covered in sweat and her chin drops forward from exhaustion after another hard push.
Damn, I want to take away her pain
. Two more pushes and I hear the baby’s cry.
Emma falls against the bed, her hands flying to her mouth as tears fill her eyes. Then, tears fill mine, when the nurse places Kylie in my arms. I’m in awe, looking down at this squirming baby girl staring right at me. My arms shake, but I hold her tight, wrapping her blanket snuggly around her. “Oh my God, Emma, look at what you did,” I can barely manage to speak.
Emma holds her arms out and I place Kylie into them, pure love bursting through me when I watch Emma smiling at our daughter. “No, Breck. Look at what
we
did. She’s beautiful.”
“Just like her mother,” I sweep my lips against Emma’s forehead, “I love you so much!” I slide on the bed next to her and place my hand on Kylie’s back as I wrap my arm around Emma, just wanting to hold both of them. We stay like this for so long, until Emma’s body gives into the exhaustion from her earlier exertion. She was in so much pain but she was so brave going through the delivery, especially without any medication. I chuckle at how her strength wasn’t as quiet this time, but just as strong.
It’s early when Kylie cries and I pick her up, rocking her. My gaze falls on Emma sleeping peacefully and a tear slides down my cheek. Closing my eyes, I shake my head, whispering, “I don’t know how to do this. I haven’t talked to you since – I don’t even remember when, but – thank you.”
When my eyes open, Emma is staring back at me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, “Did you just say a prayer?”
“I figured it’s time since so many of the ones I never asked for have already been answered.” I swipe the tear away, looking at my beautiful wife and daughter, “So - you up for sharing your angels?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Karen-Anne Stewart has always adored reading and has now fallen in love with writing. Her prior written works are The Rain Trilogy: Saving Rain, Healing Rain, and After the Rain. Her debut novel, Saving Rain: The First Novel in The Rain Trilogy, was a nominee for the Book Junkie’s Choice Awards and is a nominee for the 2013 RONE Awards to be held July, 2014.
When Karen-Anne isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, hiking, and visiting new places. She fuels her addiction of creating new stories by her only other addiction, caffeine, and listening to a myriad of musical genres. Tucked away near the Blue Ridge Mountains, Karen-Anne lives with her husband, daughter, two dogs, and their cat. She plans on writing new adult romance as long as her fingers maintain dexterity.
Readers can contact Karen-Anne at www.karen-annestewart.com.