I’m barely able to get the door to my apartment open. Emma’s got her arms wrapped around my neck, and I’ve pressed her back against the door. She presses herself against me, one leg hooked around my waist. Fuck, this woman is limber. If I don’t get this bloody door open soon, I’m going to have to take her in full screaming sight of the security cameras. The men in the booth downstairs will have an eyeful.

My ability to think vanishes as Emma kisses me again. She tastes of perfection, perfume, lipstick and wine. Her hips move against mine, and my erection throbs. I need her inside, now.

“Easy,” I breathe, finally snagging my keys from my pocket and sliding the right one into the lock. Half a second later, I shove the door in, pick Emma up by the waist so that her legs encircle me completely, and carry her into the apartment. My pulse is wild, my breath coming in hot, fast gasps. I swear, if I accidentally bang Emma’s head on the doorway, I will entirely kill the mood. And that I can’t bear.

Fortunately, I get us inside and kick the door shut. I drop the keys onto the hallway floor, and continue to carry Emma into the living room. The lights are all off; only the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook all of downtown Los Angeles let in any illumination. The city’s a glittering sea of…glitter.

I am too drunk to make sense, but drunk enough to have sex. The perfect state of inebriation.

“Where to first?” she whispers before biting my lower lip. Christ, I can’t keep myself from moaning. This woman can do the most intoxicating, erotic things to me with only the slightest effort.

“First,” I whisper in her ear, pressing burning kisses down her neck, “we have to get naked.”

Emma bursts into a giggling fit, and I freeze. There it is again, that bastard pride standing by my shoulder and shaking his head. I must never, ever be embarrassed or made to feel small. But Emma nuzzles at my cheek, and kisses me. A woman who nuzzles, by God. I thought I’d foregone nuzzling for the rest of my life. I’m so damned happy to have been wrong.

“I like tipsy you.” She plays with the hair at the nape of my neck. “Sure I’m not taking advantage, Mr. Drake?” That is the kind of voice that implies she’s now batting her eyelashes in an overly flirtatious way.

Fuck yes.

“Sure I’m sure you’re not taking advantage of me, or I of you.” I say that in the gruffest, sexiest voice I can conjure, and it sounds so good I don’t think either of us cares it made no sense. I lay Emma down on my sofa, managing to do it without dropping her or falling onto the coffee table. Her hair is a spill of gold across the soft leather cushions. Even in the semi-darkness, I can see her eyes shining with need. This woman needs me to fuck her brains out, and I am at her service.

My cock is so hard and throbbing that I know it will need release, and soon. But I’m distracted with Emma, too enticed by the exploration of every satiny curve of her, the warm, wet heat between her thighs. I skim my hand up her leg, her thigh like silk. She opens for me as I find the lace of her panties. I push that thin layer of material aside, Emma watching me with widening eyes. Her breath hitches as my thumb grazes over the swollen bud of her clit. Christ, this woman is sopping wet for me.

Being a god must feel like this.

I circle her clit, slowly and languorously, and listen to her gasps as they pitch higher and higher. Emma arches her back, her mouth falling open. Her body bucks against me as I slide one finger into her. Fuck, she’s tight as a drum. Her pussy clamps down on my finger as I tease her. I don’t go too fast; rather, I circle slowly, pumping my finger in time to her gasps. I let the orgasm build as she whimpers. Then she starts calling my name.

“Fraser. Please. Oh, God.” She moans, throwing back her head and exposing her white throat. I lean down and kiss her neck, trail kisses down to the hollow of her throat as I slide in another finger. Emma’s entire body trembles as I thrust faster and faster, as her hips grind to meet me. She’s on the verge of orgasm; I can feel it. It’s been so long since I felt a woman tremble on the precipice of ecstasy. For the moment, I’ve forgotten my straining need. Emma is all that I see or can think of: her breath, her groans, the way she trembles as—

“Oh God.” She goes high and breathless as she comes, her pussy clenching on my fingers. Her body shudders, and she lifts off the couch a little. I feel her body ride out the orgasm, and I swear if I’m not buried inside of her in the next few minutes, I’m not going to last. Grunting, I pull down her panties as she sits up. Her hair is mussed now, and even in the urban twilight I can tell she’s flushed. Her mouth meets mine, tongue thrusting and searching. While I kiss her, I unzip the back of her cunning little dress. Within seconds, she’s down to only her bra. She kicks off her shoes as I slide out of my jacket, undo my tie, unbutton my shirt. Emma’s hands fumble to help.

“Hurry. I want you inside of me,” she whispers, reaching back to unclasp her bra. That is the sweetest invitation I’ve ever received. When the little construction of lace and silk falls away, I’m treated to a glimpse of the finest pair of breasts I have ever seen. Even though my experience has not been limitless, I’ve seen enough to know that I am, at this moment, the luckiest bastard in Los Angeles. Emma takes my hands and guides them, lets me touch her. My thumb skirts over her nipple, and I receive a surge of pleasure as I watch it harden and peak. Emma closes her eyes, sighing softly as I lean in and take one breast in my mouth, then the other. She leans back against the sofa as I lick her other nipple until it’s hard. Her fingers slide through my hair, and I finally tear myself away. Emma’s hands fumble at my belt, and I remove it. Thank God I don’t whip it out so hard that the buckle whacks one or both of us in the eye, because I am too aroused to go to the emergency room right now.

I slide a condom out of my pants pocket, the foil crinkling. Emma’s eyes glow with a wicked light; her mouth quirks in a delectable smile.

“Planning ahead, boy scout? Or whatever the English boy scout equivalent is?”

“I believe they call them Polite Lads in Sussex,” I growl. Emma unbuttons my trousers and pulls them down, my erection springing free. I catch the way her jaw drops at the sight of me, well, exposed. She takes me into her hand, and it’s all I can do at that moment not to come. The very touch of this woman is sexual electricity.

Then she slowly squeezes me, her hand gliding down my length and back up again. Fuck, if she takes me in her mouth it will be game over. I take her wrist and delicately stop her. She snatches the condom from my hand, unrolls it over my cock. Finally, it’s time. Emma lies back down, and then she’s underneath me. The taste of wine on her lips is as erotic as the feel of her body. My heart is pounding; I haven’t been with a woman in so damned long. And I haven’t let myself truly give over to anything this exciting in even longer.

“Please, Fraser.” Emma whispers my name, her lips ghosting across mine.

Her silken legs slide up around my waist. I trace my cock up and down the wet seam of her pussy, listening to her moan. She thrusts her hips, wanting me inside, but I tease her. I circle the head of my cock around her swollen clit again and again, letting the orgasm build in her body. Then, when she’s right on the cusp of ecstasy once more, I slide into her in one long, slow thrust, filling her entirely.

Fuck, I’ve never fit so perfectly inside a woman before. It takes every molecule of self-control that I have not to come at once. Emma is gasping in my ear, taking me in to the very hilt. Finally, I’m sheathed utterly within her. I claim her mouth, tasting her as she whimpers. She wants me to move. She’s fucking begging me.

I’m not going to lose control. I can’t allow myself to indulge, to forget who I am and what I’ve been through. So I begin to move inside of her, each thrust slow and deliberate. I want her to feel every inch of me, and Emma moans as I begin. Her hips thrust against mine, her eyes pleading.

“Please. Fuck me harder. Faster,” she whispers. All of my self-control begins to dwindle—how do I resist when she offers what I want more than anything. I give in to her, thrusting harder. Fuck, she’s as smooth as silk, and so damned wet. I’ve never known a woman to want me this much.

The idea of it nearly makes me lose my head. I ride Emma faster, so that her breasts bounce in time with my thrusts. She throws her head back, luxuriating. She’s enjoying this, and that makes me want to go wild. It makes me want to lose control…

But I can’t.

I trail kisses down her body, lavishing attention on her breasts as I fuck harder and harder. Emma begins to wail my name beneath me, and it’s enough to know that I’m giving her pleasure. I can’t lose myself in it, though. I can’t. I can’t…

“Fraser, stop.”

Instantly, every muscle in my body freezes, and I come to a rest on top of her. Emma’s watching me with an expression that implies…sadness. Disappointment? I wasn’t enough. Not even through with our first fuck, and I wasn’t enough. I want to get up, grab my socks and keys, and walk into the hallway. Then I want the elderly couple that lives next door to emerge and find me in all my naked, ineffectual glory.

She must like a different sort of man. Fuck, I must have been so out of practice—

“What’s going on up here?” Emma presses her hand to my forehead. “You look like you’re having a heart attack.”

“I’m…concentrating,” I say at last, trying to get my breath. Fuck, we’re having the most awkward conversation imaginable while I’m still inside of her. Perhaps I should give up on trying to be with women and robotize myself. Android Fraser would be pleasantly detached.

“What are you thinking about?” she coos.

“Androids.” I am nothing if not honest. Emma bites her lip. Fuck, why don’t I just leave?

“I just get the feeling you’re not…into this.” She says that with her eyes downcast, and instantly I understand. I’ve been such a tightass, I’m not making her feel wanted. Desirable. The apex of all my erotic imaginings. When, of course, she is all of those things in kitten heels. Very, very sexy kitten heels.

“Emma, I’m not.” I clam up, because I do not whisper sweet nothings to women. I do not lay bare every failing that is within myself. But if I don’t want her to leave this apartment with one more awkward sex story for her two flapper-styled girlfriends I met at the Algonquin, I have to tell her the truth. “It’s hard for me to let myself go. Even when what I want, more than anything on the planet, is to satisfy you.”

“Really?” She sounds so soft and unsure. Mixed with her fast mouth and her sharp wit, it’s an irresistible combination.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.” It’s the truth. “That’s why I’m so afraid to unleash myself.”

Emma’s legs hike up around my waist again. She kisses me, her tongue thrusting into my mouth. I respond in kind, and feel myself growing harder, if that’s even possible. With a quick slide and shift of our bodies, Emma’s on top, straddling me. She guides me into her again, easy as anything. Then, our eyes meeting, she starts to ride me. She takes me deep inside of her, her hips swiveling in the most delectable way. My breath catches as she rides harder, faster. Her tits bounce, and the springs beneath us begin to creak with our enthusiasm. It doesn’t matter. I fuck her, thrusting as hard as I can while she meets me thrust for thrust. A tight, white-hot pressure begins to build behind my eyes.

“You’re the hottest man I’ve ever seen.” Emma breathes these words into my mouth, as she leans down to kiss me again. My hands tighten their grip on her waist. “And you’re the biggest man I’ve ever been with. Really, really huge.” She emphasizes these words with a hard thrust of her hips. I gasp; I swear, I’m seconds away from coming. But I want to hold on; I want this to last. Last forever, if possible.

“Then this feels good?” I thrust as deep into her as I can go. Emma’s eyes squeeze shut, and she grips the couch. Clenching her teeth, a moan of pleasure emanates from her throat.

“Better. More.”

My heart is racing, and I reach between her legs to touch her clit. Emma bucks, calling my name. And at that moment, I don’t give a shit about what has been in my past, or what’s still following me around. There’s only tonight, and only Emma.

Fuck caution.

I hear Emma gasp as I sit up, bringing her legs around to straddle my waist. While she cries out in shock—and pleasure—I fuck her as hard as I can. I lay her down, her legs wrapped around me, and grind as deep into her as I can go. I’m finished thinking. I should whisper things to her as well, something like ‘you’re a goddess’ or ‘I’ve never wanted any woman like this.’ Not gorillas, though. Thank fucking God that gorillas are over and done with.

The words fill my mouth and then evaporate, because they’re nothing compared to action. I thrust hard and fast, pumping in perfect time to Emma’s exquisite cries. That hard, white-hot pressure builds inside my head once more; only one word escapes my lips as I round the bend to my climax.

“Emma.” I grit her name out between my teeth. It’s more than a prayer; it’s an order and a plea. Stay with me, in this moment. Never let it end.

“Fuck me. Make me come,” she moans, her hips writhing.

The hot, wet slap of our bodies picks up a furious pace, and I reach down to her throbbing clit one last time. She erupts in pleasure, crying out as she pulls me down on top of her. I ride her through her orgasm, listening to her heated groaning, and then the pressure inside of me builds to a shattering crescendo. I call her name as I come, and ride myself to exhaustion.

Then we’re lying together—well, I’m lying on top of her. Again, she nuzzles against my neck. My breathing is heavy, my hair damp with sweat. Gently, I disengage from her, then lie down. We switch positions, Emma now lying on top of me, one leg hooked around mine. I can feel the frantic beat of her heart. She kisses my chin, a small, almost chaste action that’s filled with tenderness.

I never thought I’d know that kind of tenderness again. I thought I could live without it; what a bloody fool I was.

“That,” Emma whispers in my ear, “was…totally okay.”

I nearly balk at her: how could the world’s finest pair of orgasms simply register as ‘okay?’ Then I hear that warm, womanly giggle, and know that she’s playing with me again. Usually, I find that sort of thing maddening. Now, it’s simply arousing.

“Then may I suggest we attempt to soar to the heights of ‘delightfully adequate?’” I kiss her, luxuriate in the taste of her. Emma wraps herself around me completely.

“Oh, it could take all night, but we’ll definitely try.” She kisses me back.

Yes, I’m going to try. If this night has taught me anything, it’s that I’m going to try once more.