Chapter Seventeen

EMMA

I’ve realized two things: up until now I’ve never truly felt alive; I’ve never known the feeling of what it’s like to genuinely have an understanding of breathing, of the feeling of a human’s touch, of listening to the sound of a beating heart. But with Tucker, his eyes heavy with yearning for me, I can hear distinctly without question the beat of a human’s heart. I can feel the air I breathe pass through my lungs and pump through my veins, and the contact of skin against skin has never felt so real, so authentic, so utterly transparent. And secondly, what is about to transpire between Tucker and me will forever change me from the woman I am today. I know the minute he buries himself deep inside me, the familiar colors of this world will change, alter in a way that I will forever see differently. It’s inevitable with a man like Tucker Jameson.

And even though I’m scared of this change, of the transformation I’m about to embark on, I wouldn’t back down for anything. Not for my friend, not for the protection of my heart, and not for the shelter of the imprinted marrow that runs deep within my bones. Because for the life of me, I can’t say no to this beautiful man, to his damaged eyes, to the carved jaw that ticks with his emotions, or the heart that beats quickly under the palm of my hand.

I want him.

I hope he wants me.

I want him to alter my life.

Does he want me to alter his?

I want him to change the colors of my world into a kaleidoscope of tangible, prickly, all-consuming awareness.

I hope he wants to be a part of me and my life of color.

“Emma.” His voice is husky, on the verge of breaking.

“Take me upstairs, Tucker.” Please.

His hands quickly button up the button that rests between my breasts, and then in one swift movement, he scoops me into his arms and takes me upstairs, leaving our little dinner party behind without a second thought.

With each creak of the stairs leading to his bedroom, my heart rate picks up. I’m excited. I’ve never felt this need, this . . . rightness. What will he feel like inside me? Will he be tender? Will he be rough and demanding? Will he compare me to . . . her?

No, I can’t think about Sadie right now. I can’t begin to think about what they might have had together. As attracted adults learning more about each other, this is different. What is between Tucker and me is different and I’m going to revel in the disparity.

When he reaches his bed, he relies on the light in the stairway to cast the only brightness in the room, leaving the area dim. To me, it feels romantic.

He places me on the ground in front of him and takes a small step back. Eyes still trained on mine, he reaches over his head to his back where he grabs his shirt and quickly tugs it off. I watch in fascination as each and every one of his chest muscles flex in the process, leaving me panting for a redo.

I’ve never seen a more gorgeous man in my life. From the messy style of his hair, to the thick scruff on his perfectly defined jaw, to the powerful, corded muscles that twist and twine over his athletic chest, he weakens me at the knees. I’m dizzy with lust.

Still looking me in the eyes, he unbuckles his jeans but leaves them on. I glance down for a second to catch a small trail of trimmed hair that leads to the waistband of his black briefs. I want to lick a path down that trail to what he’s hiding beneath those dark wash jeans.

When I return my eyes to his, the smirk on his face almost splits me in half. There’s no denying my attraction to him. He probably noticed that within the first two weeks we were living together. I’ve never been good at hiding emotions, most notably it seems when it comes to Tucker and his ruggedly handsome features.

He takes a step forward. I can feel a small shiver down my spine in anticipation of his touch, of his kiss, of his body moving flawlessly on top of mine. The space between us closes as he takes one more step forward. The heat emanating off him envelops me into a ball of desire as his hands unbutton my last button. His fingers trail along the edges of my open shirt, sending goosebumps along my skin and a shot of awareness straight to my sex. I’m so wet, even though he hasn’t even truly touched me yet.

“I want you so fucking bad, Emma.”

“Take me, Tucker,” I say on a whisper, hoping and praying his stalling has nothing to do with second-guessing. Please let him be ready.

He gnaws on his bottom lip for a second before both his hands trail a line over my collarbone until they push the shirt off my shoulders and onto the floor of his bedroom. His eyes are on mine for a brief second before they flick to my breasts. I don’t have to look down to know my nipples are hard. I can feel them tingling in awareness, yearning to be touched, sucked, licked. Yearning for him.

Tucker slowly takes me in, his eyes not giving him away but from how he’s running his hand over his rough jaw, I can tell he’s feeling the same way I am, nervous with a whole bunch of want.

“Fuck, Emma.” His hand glides over his mouth in awe. “You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

The compliment hits me hard, giving me a boost of confidence I desperately needed.

We are a separate entity from our past, from his past.

Leaving me topless without his touch, he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my pajama pants and slips them down my legs, exposing nothing but a red thong that matches the hearts on my pajamas. A low groan travels up his throat as he takes me in. He links our hands together and helps me step out of my pants. I kick them to the side with my shirt so they’re out of the way. Releasing one of my hands, he slowly spins me around, stopping me when my back is toward him.

He stops me and grips my shoulders tenderly until he slides his hands down my arms, to my ribcage where his fingers barely graze the side of my breasts. I take in a sharp hiss of a breath from the contact, my core heating up with every touch. Slowly, his hands glide down my sides until he reaches my hips. His body presses flush against mine, and his lips find my neck where he lightly kisses me and whispers, “Your ass is so fuckable, baby. I’ve dreamt of this ass. I’ve had visions of punishing this little ass, of biting into it, claiming it as mine.” His lips dance across the space between my neck and shoulder, sending chills all over my body.

He slips his hands under the thin strap of my thong and pushes it down, leaving me bare to the cool night air.

Behind me, I can feel the roughness of his jeans against my legs, and the sensation of my burning skin against his pants sends a wave of yearning through my body.

Hands still on my hips, he leans his head forward and brings his lips from my shoulder up the column of my neck to my ear where he whispers, “I knew you were gorgeous, Emma, but fuck me, you naked makes me want to worship every inch of your body.” He nips at my ear. “Combine that with your heart and your mind? I’m drowning in desperation for you.”

Does he know I feel the same? That his heart is just as kind, that his mind turns me on, that his protective instincts make me want to never leave his side?

While he kisses my neck, his tongue peeking out every once in a while, his teeth nipping at my skin, his hands move to the front of my body, his palms spanning over my stomach. His touch is warm, demanding, and all I can do is lean my head back so I’m resting on his shoulder.

“What do you want me to do to you, Emma?” His voice brushes against my skin, making my nipples even harder if possible. His hands go higher to the point where they rest right below my breasts.

Everything inside me is pounding with need, a throbbing craving taking root in my center, vibrating through my bones, reminding me just how turned on I am.

“Everything, Tucker,” I gasp when he nips at my neck. There is no doubt that will be a mark tomorrow.

“Tell me what you want.” His lips are right next to my ear again, his teeth tugging on my earlobe. The shy side of me clams up. I’ve never been approached like this during sex, being asked what I want. It’s always just been given to me, sometimes with less finesse than desired.

Helping me out, he whispers, “Tell me, Emma. Do you want my hands plucking these tight nipples of yours? Do you want my thick fingers sliding into your wet cunt only to be followed by my tongue? Do you want me to bend you over this bed and spank that delicious ass of yours until you cry out in pure ecstasy? Or do you want me to spread you across my bed, hands held above your head, while I slowly pulse in and out of you until you can’t take the languid strokes of my thick cock inside your tight pussy any longer?”

My breath escapes me, my mind is a whirl of yeses, a mash-up of please, God, let this happen and holy shit I want him to fuck me immediately. I want to scream yes to everything but I’m speechless, unable to voice my opinion from the ball of need clogging my throat.

“Not going to answer? Fine, baby, but that means I get total control.” Within a second, he has me spun around, facing him. My hands fall to his chest for support. His muscles flex under my palms reminding me of the sexy and strong man he’s become. He lifts my chin and says, “Don’t want to tell me what you want, then you’re at my mercy. Can you do that? Give me total control?”

I swallow hard and my voice sounds miles away as I speak. “Is that what you want?”

He shifts in his stance and cups my face with his hands. “I want to make you come until you pass out.”

I can’t help it. I swallow hard again. “I want that too.”

“Good.”

He doesn’t take a second for me to catch my breath before he’s laying me down on the bed and parting my legs so he can position himself over me. Still with his jeans undone, his hair slightly askew, and a heated look in his eyes, he places his hands on either side of my head and lowers his mouth to mine where he gently parts my lips with his tongue.

I grant him access, not putting up any sort of a fight. Why would I? How could I? I want this. I need this. I will explode without this.

Our mouths meld together, slowly. There is no rush in his movements; it’s as if he’s imprinting every single flick of our tongues, movement of our mouths, and nibble of our teeth in his brain. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t doing the same thing.

There is something about the soul act of kissing another human, of fusing your mouths together, exploring, that can make or break an experience. From one kiss, I can tell if the man I’m locking lips with is worth the effort, if there’s hope for a future between us. The first time Tucker kissed me, I knew I was doomed. But now? I know I’ll be ruined for life.

He doesn’t mindlessly kiss me as a way to get to the next step. No. There is purpose in each flick of his tongue, of every movement of his mouth, as if he has a blueprint to my arousal and he’s following it step by step.

His body barely presses against mine, leaving his lips in charge, making me feel overwhelmed, needy, and so hot for him that I can’t control myself. I put my hands on his cheeks and try to pull him closer but fail when he pulls away. Lips swollen, he looks me in the eyes and says, “Hands linked above your head; keep them there until I say you can touch me.”

“Tucker . . .”

“You gave me control, baby. Trust me and listen.” When he calls me babe, I melt. When he calls me baby, I fall further and further for this man.

I link my hands and raise them above my head, which brings my breasts closer together. He groans when he takes me in, and when I think he’s going to return to my mouth for more kissing, he scoots down my body until his head is even with my chest. With his knee propping him up between my legs, he runs his left index finger in circles around my right nipple. He barely touches me, just circling and circling—madly—until I can feel my hips start to ride his jean-clad leg looking for release. He lifts his fingers and goes to the other nipple where he does the same kind of torture, burning me from the inside out.

My clit pounds. I need. Need him so much.

“God,” I gasp, surprising myself. I’ve never been one to vocalize during sex, but the way Tucker makes me feel, it’s hard to keep my mouth shut. “Tucker, touch me.”

“I am,” he whispers.

“Squeeze me,” I say on a moan, my hips really starting to move against his leg.

“Who’s in charge, baby?”

“You,” I groan, my eyes shut now as his nose starts to skim across my jaw, his breath hot and sweet on my neck.

His fingers continue to circle my nipple as he says, “Good.” His voice is firm and just when I think he’s going to continue to torture me, he pinches my nipple so hard that my upper body arches in response and a low moan escapes past my kiss-swollen lips. “Fuck, that’s sexy,” he mumbles, making his way down my neck to my breasts.

He continues to pluck and pull at my nipple while his mouth pays attention to the other, sucking it between his teeth where he nibbles, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure that I think I might just come from his touch alone. His mouth is so hot, so wet on my burning skin, causing a myriad of sensations to roll through my body. My clit pounds, begs, seeks release as his hands and mouth work along my breasts. He’s single-minded in his efforts; torture Emma in all the right ways.

Hands above my head, my naked body melting into the coolness of his comforter, I lose myself as this gorgeous man tongue-fucks my breasts, squeezing them with this hands, occasionally flicking my nipples, making me so aroused that I can’t feel anything but the solid, relentless beat that drums between my thighs.

Release.

Need it.

Badly.

I wiggle under him, knowing my efforts will go unnoticed by Tucker who has his own agenda, but I need to make it known that he’s driven me to the brink, that I’m there, provoked by his touch, ready, wet, and waiting.

“Tucker,” I breathe out heavily. “I’m so wet.” The words feel foreign coming from me, in such a sensual moment, but they also feel right, like I was meant to save them for this exact minute. It’s as though Tucker was brought into my life at this time to pull them out of me.

He hums over my breasts and lowers his head to my stomach, making me hyper aware of what he’ll do next. The feel of his scruff along my sensitive skin heightens my senses, acting as an electric bolt through my veins, turning the lights on deep within me. I never realized that up until this moment, sex had been an insignificant shadow, a passionless burning only Tucker Jameson could ignite.

“You taste like sweet honey,” he murmurs, working his way farther south. “Fuck, why did I wait so long for this? For you?” Gliding his hands down my stomach, he moves them past my hips to my thighs where he spreads them wide to accommodate for his broad shoulders. I’m completely exposed to him, in one of the most raw ways possible, and I feel nothing but comfortable. Ready.

His jaw deliciously scratches its way down to just above my pubic bone. He rests his chin on the center of my legs and leisurely runs his tongue back and forth over the sensitive skin a few inches below my belly button. I squirm relentlessly beneath him, just a few more inches . . .

“Has anyone every fucked you with their tongue, Emma?”

My mind feels like fog, his voice heavy in my heart but not registering as I’m clouded with anticipation. “What?” I ask, my breath heavy with each pass through my lungs.

He moves farther down, his face directly between my legs. With two fingers, he parts my slit and leans forward while looking up at me with those devastatingly smoldering blue-green eyes. “Has anyone ever . . .”—he lowers his head. My heart starts to beat out of my chest, my entire body tingling with numbness. His tongue peeks out of his mouth and very lightly, almost as if he doesn’t touch me, licks the length of my slit—“. . . tongue fucked you?”

My eyes are sealed shut, unable to bare the pleasure that waits for me. Above me, my fists grip onto the pillow my head rests on and I shake my head.

“I want to hear it from your beautiful lips. Tell me no one has ever tongue fucked you. Tell me I’m the first.”

Finding my voice, I weakly say, “You’re the first, Tucker. You’re the first man to tongue fuck me.”

He sighs and then shakes his head, his scruff rubbing against my inner thighs. I want more of that. “How is that even fucking possible?” He kisses me gently on my inner thighs, getting so close, that one swipe of his tongue gives me nothing and only makes me more frustrated. “Fun fact, Emma, I like eating pussy.” My legs clench from his confession, which makes him lightly chuckle. “But you’re going to have to show me those peepers of yours before I taste you. Open your eyes, Emma.”

In so much need, I do as he says, connecting with him in one of the most intimate ways possible.

“That’s it, baby. Keep those eyes on mine this whole time. Do not close them. I want to see you fall apart while I fuck you with my tongue. Got it, beautiful girl?”

I nod, feeling tears stinging the backs of my eyes for an unknown reason. Everything is heightened in me right now. I blame the threatening tears on that, not on the way Tucker seems to look straight into my soul.

“Good.”

He kisses me a few more times on my inner thighs until he moves his mouth over my center and flattens his tongue. His eyes trained on me, he presses his tongue against my clit and moves it upward applying just enough pressure to make me scream out his name.

“Tucker.” I moan, my head falling back from my impending release, which I know will come sooner than expected.

My legs fall farther apart and when I situate myself for the ride of my lifetime, Tucker’s tongue ceases to move. What? Is he teasing again? Please, I can’t take any more of this.

When I look down at him, he smiles. “That’s it, baby. Keep those eyes on me.”

Crap.

Eyes.

Focus.

Bracing myself with my elbows, I lift up so I can completely focus on the way his tongue lusciously swipes along my slit. I’ve never felt anything like it. I’ve never SEEN anything like it. A man, so desperately happy to be resting between my thighs, eyes fixated on mine while his mouth works magic on me, kissing, nibbling . . . sucking. It’s too much.

My legs feel like they’re floating on clouds, my body lifeless, the only feeling coursing through my body is a light prickling sensation screaming through my veins, preparing me for my fall. The build is strong, heady, overwhelming. My breathing erratic with each swipe, with each pull on my clit, with every hum from his mouth.

I’m climbing, reaching, vibrating with release, on the edge.

“Yes,” I whisper. My stomach drops, my clit pounds against his tongue. “Yes.” I get louder. My body starts to shake. “Yes!” Tunnel vision collapses around me, the only thing in my sight is Tucker staring up at me. He winks and then rapidly flicks his tongue over my clit, pushing me off the edge into a downward spiral of unrelenting pleasure. Sparks fly in my head, my stomach bottoms out, and I scream, “YESSSS!”

I try to keep my eyes open. I try not to pass out from the onslaught of my orgasm, from the white-hot pleasure taking me under, blacking me out from the world around us. But I fail as I collapse onto the bed while Tucker casually continues to lick me, his strokes becoming slower and slower with each pass until he finally lifts off the mattress and stands on the side of the bed.

He keeps his eyes on me, his hair more of a mess than before . . . did I do that? I can’t even remember. His voice is husky when he speaks. “That was the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” His hands go to his jeans where there is an unmistakable bulge. “But I can’t give you much time to recover, baby. I need inside you. Now.” There is no question in his sentence, just a statement, as if there is no other option for him.

With the energy left inside me, I roll to my side, push my hair out of my face and say, “How do you want me?”

I’m not imagining it. I know I’m not, but his eyes get darker, more sexy, as if I just said the very thing he was hoping to hear. One hand on his jeans, he assesses me with a tilt of his head. He’s gorgeous, standing tall, his abs contracting, his strong forearm flexing as he rubs his jaw, his tanned and toned body silhouetted by the stairway light. He’s positively sinister.

“I would say on your stomach so I can dig my fingers into your ass while I’m buried inside of you but I need to see your face. I want to know the exact moment you feel me bottoming out inside of you.”

Oh God, can someone orgasm just from words? Because I’m pretty sure I just did.

“Stay where you are, I’ll move you how I want you.” He winks and then pulls his jeans off his body, leaving him with only a pair of black briefs and a straining erection. The sex-er-gized bunny inside me wants to hoot and holler at him to take it all off, but I bite my tongue and wait for him to give me a show. “You’re killing me with your looks, Emma.”

“What looks?”

“Like you want to wrap those luscious lips around my cock.” He sticks his hand in his briefs and cups himself.

Fuck. Me.

He nods at his nightstand and says, “Grab a condom for me, Emma, and open it.”

Oh God, this is really happening. I mean, I know this is happening. He’s already had his head buried between my thighs, we are by far past the line of friendship here, but this next step, this is a big one. This will really change everything and for the life of me, I can’t seem to stop myself from moving forward.

I reach over into his nightstand, find a condom, and when I look back up at him, his eyes are fixed on my body, his briefs are tossed to the side, and he’s casually stroking his massive erection.

Nine inches deep.

He was not exaggerating.

“Shit, babe, that innocent look on your face is splitting me in half. Put the condom on the mattress and lie back down.”

Not able to take my eyes off his cock, wondering how it’s going to feel inside me, I lie back down and wait. I watch impatiently as he breaks open the foil wrapper and sheathes himself. For a second, he stands next to me, giving my body a once-over as he cups his balls. His cock stands to attention, tempting me to stroke it, but before I can get the courage to do so, he’s kneeling on the bed and hovering over me.

“Spread your legs, Emma.” The tone of his voice is low, gravely, strained almost.

“Do I still have to hold my hands above my head?” I ask as I spread my legs, hoping he says no.

He shakes his head. “I want to feel your hands on my body when I come inside of you.”

Before I can answer, his mouth is on mine and his body is pressing against me, his erection rubbing along my leg starting up that burning need once again. Knowing I can have a little bit of control of my own, I cup his face and really revel in this moment, in the way Tucker kisses like he means it, leaving everything on the table, not shying away from making his intentions known. He wants me.

His lips move against mine seamlessly, his tongue pressing, tangling, smoothing along mine, his teeth occasionally pulling on my bottom lip until I gasp, only for him to soothe the area with his tongue. It’s so damn sensual that I feel dizzy; my mind turns to mud, shutting down all my other senses. My soul focus is on him and the way he makes me feel.

Which is absolutely incredible, like I’m the greatest gift he’s ever received.

“Need inside you,” he murmurs along my lips just before he pulls away and sits up. He grips his cock, looks down at my entrance and leans forward, planting one hand on the mattress as he slowly rubs the tip of his cock along my wet slit.

“Oh yes,” I moan, wiggling forward, encouraging him to keep moving, to finally make that connection I’ve been dying for.

His eyes fall to mine just as he starts to enter me. He’s thicker than any man I’ve ever been with so he feels like he’s stretching me to full capacity. My mouth falls open from his girth, from the slow pace he’s going at and when he asks if he’s hurting me, all I can do is shake my head and answer, “More.” He grunts and pushes deeper until he’s fully inside me.

I have to take deep breaths as I allow myself to adjust, to let his length settle in. I can’t help it, the words fall from my lips before I can stop them. “You’re so big, Tucker. I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Shhh,” he coos in my ear as he lowers himself. “Just relax, baby, take deep breaths.”

“I’m just so full.”

He peppers kisses along my jaw, loosening the tension building inside me. As he makes his way up and down my neck with his mouth, I let my hands wander his body from his strong shoulders, to his corded back. It’s never been like this for me. I’ve never known sex to feel this . . . this fulfilled. Taken. I’ve never had such a strong, capable, sweet, and sexy man to hold on to, and to dote on me.

And now that I have it, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let go.

“You feel so fucking good, Emma.” His hips start to move, sending his cock in and out of me. He’s slow at first, giving me a chance to accommodate his thrusts, but once he finds I’ve relaxed, that my legs have spread wider for him, he picks up his pace and pushes against the mattress holding his body above mine.

I can’t help but glance at our connection, at the way Tucker’s abs contract with each thrust, at his ripped arms and pecs flexing and straining. I’ve never needed to watch during sex, and this is beyond hot and it spurs me on.

“Need more,” he grunts. So he picks up my leg and drapes it over his shoulder causing my body to twist just slightly and giving him a better angle. That’s when he hits that spot and my eyes shoot wide open as well as my mouth.

“Oh fuck.” He starts to pound into me, knowing exactly how he’s bringing me so close to the edge. “Oh, Tucker, right there. Oh my God.”

My entire body starts to tingle, hum, and burn with awareness. One of his hands grips my leg that’s slung over his shoulder, the other is braced on my hip as he continues to thrust. Every muscle in his chest strains, flexes, and works to bring us both pleasure. He’s so beautiful. I want him to be mine.

“Christ.” He quickens his pace. I welcome the force and open wider for him. I have nothing to grip since he’s propped up, so I press my hands against the headboard and push against him when he pushes into me.

That does it.

My vision goes black, my walls tighten around him, and pure pleasure shoots through me, the kind of pleasure I’ve never felt before. Everything is different with this man. The way he touches me, the way he talks to me . . . the way he looks at me. The way he feels inside my body. It’s all so intoxicating. I’m drowning in his presence.

“Fuck, I’m going to come, baby,” Tucker calls out right before he stills and grunts out one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard. His expression is soaked in pleasure, his eyes tight for a second before they open and spot me as he takes a deep breath and smiles.

Oh God. Right there. That’s the reason he could break my heart and shatter it to pieces. That one boyish look . . . it guts me.

I catch my breath as Tucker cleans up but I don’t get much time to think because he’s quickly hopping back in bed, putting us both under the covers, and bringing me into his chest where my head rests. He strokes my hair as I snuggle into him.

We are silent for a second, unsure of what to say after having such a momentous event, but Tucker doesn’t take long to come up with something, to solidify this man forever in my heart.

“I never knew the girl who used to scold me for peeing off a back porch would be the girl who would flip my world upside down.” He lets out a long breath. “Fuck, Emma, you’re so goddamn perfect. That was perfect. We were perfect. ” He’s absolutely correct.

I dance my fingers across his chest and kiss his jaw. “It was perfect.”

“There is one thing I need to bring up though.”

My stomach twists in a knot, wondering if I did something wrong. Wondering if he’s going to mention her. “Uh, what’s that?”

He clears his throat and says, “You owe me a new gallon of ice cream, because that cookie dough is melted to shit right about now.”

I giggle into his chest and nod with a sigh of relief. “That’s fair . . . DJ Hot Cock.”

That gets a chuckle out of him. He kisses the top of my head and says, “Very accurate description, huh?”

“Spot on.” I smile to myself, loving that even after we crossed the point of no return, we can still be us. Because it’s just Tucker and me. That’s it, no one else.

But, I still can’t help wondering as Tucker starts to drift off into a slumber, was this how he was with her? Light and breezy after sex? Did they cuddle? Did he tell her she was perfect? Did he shatter her world with one night in bed?

Because I think he’ll shatter mine, right into a million unfixable pieces.