by luvthedesserts©

A giant thanks to my second pair of eyes from Across the Pond, Irfon.

***

Emily smiled as she heard her bedroom door squeak as it opened under his touch. She couldn't hear, but she imagined the slow light steps as he neared the bed. His breath wasn't ragged, as it had been the first few times he'd secreted into her room late at night. She let out a shaky sigh before the covers were slowly pulled down to uncover her waiting body. It seemed like every nerve ending was screaming to feel his hands. Every night was different. Some nights he started with just his warm breath drifting across her skin. Other times, his fingertips would start at her ankles and work upwards. He knew her feet were far too ticklish to keep up the façade of her being asleep.

She squirmed when warm breath cascaded over her skin a fraction of a second before his tongue found the small of her back. The pillow she'd been cuddling took the brunt of her body's instinctive reaction. She curled intoa ball as she rolled to her side. Her eyes flared open in fear that he'd retreat and their ritual would end. She knew it was an irrational fear. Both of them were well past stopping. His hands moved to uncoil her body from around the pillow. His deep whispering voice was shushing her between kisses to her hip.

"Relax, Em. Just enjoy this dream. It's just a dream."

Achingly slow, her body straightened until she was half on her side and half on her stomach. The pillow tucked against her for support. God his hands, so hot. They drifted over her legs, his fingertips brushing her inner thigh light as a feather. Emily had to fight the deep lustful urge to turn and pull him into her. To feel what was so close. She knew he was naked. His cock hard as always. Inches away from her in the night. His hands. They burned her flesh as he pushed her top leg forward.

His kiss found her shoulder while his leg slid between hers. Those lips so unmistakable. Kissing her as if she'd shatter into pieces. Her head turned to give him her neck. A soft almost inaudible sigh escaped when his fingertips pulled her silken curls to give him no obstruction. With just the light drifting in from the single window of her bedroom, her sandy hair looked almost black. In the night, it matched his. Her fingers tightened around the pillow under her head to prevent her from reaching back to grip his hair and scream for him to stop torturing her and just take her any way his imagination wanted. All night, just like this. Slamming into her with the furious drive to conquer or painfully slow and gently. She didn't care. A month ago she'd realized he was all she wanted.

The first night had just happened. New Year's Eve was the worst day of her life. She'd come home to an empty apartment. There was no midnight kiss, no boyfriend. Just the empty ache of being alone on the one night no one should be alone. He'd come home at two in the morning. Walking a bit wobbly. His movements a bit too deliberate. He'd seen her on the couch curled in a ball with a blizzard of tissues surrounding her.

In a flood of new tears, she related the tale of her cheating boyfriend and how he'd embarrassed her in public. His arms were around her in an instant. Pinning her to his wide chest. His lips brushing against her cheek as he shushed and comforted her. He rocked her like she was a baby. The normal cold and distant man she'd roomed with for over two years had been replaced by something loving and caring. Somewhere between being told how beautiful and warm she was and how love would find her and fill her each day, she fell asleep.

It was like a dream the first night. She was lifted on a cloud as he carried her to her bed. Her dress slid down her body without hurry. His fingers trembled when the sheer fabric fell below her breasts. The sensation of the silk being pulled across her skin burned her flesh and caused her nipples to react instantly.

"My God." His whispered words seemed to have been ripped out of him.

Partially awake from being picked up, his words brought her fully aware of her situation. In the darkness, her eyes opened and found his face. She had no idea why she hadn't just sat up and slapped him. There was just something in the way he was looking at her breasts. The hunger was obvious. His tongue came out to wet his lips and she realized all she wanted was to be his lips. At that moment, she wanted to know the taste of his tongue. The course silkiness of it. And then she did know. His head lowered and licked the beginning swell of her breast. It found the underside of her right breast and traced its gentle curve. Her quiet unstoppable moan caused him to freeze.

His head came up. Endlessly deep eyes explored her face. Hers slammed shut. Praying he'd continue. She wanted his lips and tongue and hands all over her. His breath drifting over her aroused nipple spread goosebumps across her skin.

The dress moved lower. Her flat stomach, she'd spent hours at the gym for, was now bare. She was malleable when he lifted and twisted her to get the dress over her rounded hips. He had to know she was awake. He just had to. As her panties came into view, her body tensed. The realization of wearing transparent satin to make sure there was nothing seen under her dress invaded her brain. Her body temperature seemed to race to her cheeks. He'd be able to see every detail. Even the fact that she was already achingly wet. She looked at him through thick eyelashes, but saw no reaction. He was too focused on stripping her. She let out a heady breath, thankful for the surrounding darkness.

He stood at the foot of her bed for the longest time. Her dress was held in his hands as he simply stared. It felt like an eternity. All she could hear was her own beating heart and the occasional anguished breath from the war he must be fighting with his own desires. Emily couldn't help but smile when her dress was lifted to his face and he inhaled a deep slow breath. She had him now. The way he breathed in her scent was intoxicating. Her head turned as he slowly walked around the bed and draped it on a chair. She had never been treated with such reverence as he treated her dress. His fingertips reached out for it, knowing it had been against her skin. Her sweat. Her perfume. Her unclothedness. He was imagining it all. When he turned back to her, his chest was rising and falling in labored breaths. She wanted to scream for him to hurry, but she was frozen.

When he bent over and pulled the covers over her, she felt a tremor start deep within her. He didn't want her. Didn't want to touch her, kiss her, consume her. That's all she wanted. To feel one single connection to someone else. That his need of her was as desperate as hers for him. She accidentally let out a tiny whine. A pathetic little noise. It dropped him to his knees. He shook the bed when his head lowered and his body trembled.

She ached to reach out and run her hand through his hair and tell him it was all right. To pull him into her arms and never let him go. No one would know how weak and pathetic they were. It would be their little secret. Only the night would witness the desperate loneliness that forced their bodies together. Please. Please just crawl into bed and do anything, she thought. Even if it were just to feel a warm body next to her, it would be enough.

He stood. His breath ragged and tortured. She bit her lip when his suit jacket was slipped off and placed on her dress. In slow motion, he rolled up the sleeves of his custom made shirt. His silk tie was loosened and discarded. She imagined it drifting like a feather to the ground. This was a dream. An achingly beautiful dream. Her tongue came out and then her bottom lip was pulled into her mouth when the covers were pulled back. When the bed rocked to accept his weight, she used it as an excuse to spread her legs slightly. He would smell her. He had to. Her entire body screamed to feel him.

"Please don't hate me for this." It was almost inaudible. His voice sounded more like a prayer than a confession. "I need you. You're all I can think about."

She felt something smooth drift over her breast. Hot blasts of air following in its wake. Then his cheek brushing across her nipple sent a surge of electricity down her spine and straight to the uncontrollable throb between her legs. A breathless whine escaped her lips to encourage him. The wet roughness of his tongue sent a violent shiver rippling through her as he circled her areola and then tasted her hardened nipple. It was the slowest softest most sensual kiss she'd ever known. His lips burned her skin. Scalded her very soul.

Her hips flexed with each gentle suckle. God, she could smell her own arousal. Why couldn't he? It was filling the room as her legs widened for him. She needed him. Desperately. His breath burned her more and more. She wondered if her flesh was as hot as his lips. If he could feel the furnace building within her, the growing explosion just beneath the surface. With just the tip of his nose he traced between her breasts and then methodically worked over the other. First his nose and then his lips and then the course silkiness of his tongue.

He pulled every bit of air from her lungs when his tongue traveled down her stomach. She moaned louder as the minutes dragged into forever. Take them off. Please take them off, she screamed in her head when somehow his hot breath found its way under the elastic of her panties and mixed with the thin bit of dark blonde air. His lips skirted her panties. His first deep breath caused a shuddering groan. He could smell her now. How could he not smell her? She was dripping with desire. It felt like she was almost oozing from ever pore.

She could feel how badly he wanted to rip the thin piece of fabric off her. His muscles almost creaked as he fought against the animal inside. Biting her lip, she was prepared for the pain of it. Praying it would come. Begging him with a silent plea to plunge into her. To grip her roughly and simply take her body as violently as he could.

He didn't. The bastard just continued to kiss and lick everywhere but where she needed him to. The gentlest touch pushed her legs wider. His nose running the length of her inner thigh, licking back up, and then descending again. Over and over again, until not a bit of flesh had escaped him. Her body was his. Each long lick sent sparks rippling through her.

His hot breath left her weak. It was back. Hovering over her. All she had to do was lift up. His lips would join her if she did. She couldn't. Fear gripped her. Fear that this was a dream. That he was fast asleep in his bed. Oblivious to her soul crying out for him. If he wasn't real, she wasn't real.

Emily didn't know when it started. Or how. It simply arrived. She was concentrating on the tip of his nose as he traced the outline of her panties. His breath blasting between her swollen lips. Threading through the course hair. Tunneling into her. He spoke. She came.

It could have been the sudden eruption of sound above her heart beating away in her head. Or the anguish of his voice. Deep down she knew what it was. It was the words. The words he spoke. He wasn't even touching her. It was simply the words coming from deep within him.

"You're my dream, Em. Every night I dream of you. Your skin. Your hair. Wet from the shower. Beads of water running down to pool at your feet. Just once. Just once I wish I could be a drop of water. To feel your skin. To warm you. Cleanse you. Surround you. Just once to know you so well. You're killing me, Em. Every night I die not having you. Every night someone else does. I can't live this way. I don't have the strength to leave you. Damn you, Em."

He was gone. Slipping away in the night. Leaving her so full and yet emptier than ever before. He was gone without laying a hand on her. Leaving her breathless and raw. There was only the darkness now.

When she woke in the morning, he was there. Standing at the counter like always. A cup of coffee in his hand. Steam swirling above it. His blue eyes stern and cold. He turned and filled her cup. Like always. Their ritual. Every morning she stumbled to the counter and found him there.

"Morning." She said after her first sip. Her hands surround the cup, drawing its heat into her.

"Morning." His left arm stretched out and curled to look at the gold plated watch.

"I'm sorry for last night."

"No reason to apologize for what another man did."

"I'm apologizing for what I did. I know you didn't want to have to console a hysterical woman."

Blue eyes rose and then his wide shoulder moved in a deliberate shrug. His hands running through dark wavy hair. A habit. A device to shield himself from the uncomfortable. She knew him. Two years of watching a cold distant man. He wasn't cold. How could he be? Not after last night. But he was. The same man was standing here, indifferent to her. Like every morning. Miles between the three feet that separated them.

"Hmm." He looked at his watch again and poured out the remaining coffee.

Emily sighed. He'd leave now. She watched as he walked around the island counter and slid into his suit jacket. It had always annoyed her how mechanical he seemed when he did that. The well-practiced maneuver of a man so formal. He lived like he dressed. Pressed, proper, and spotless. His steps were beaten into her brain as his tall frame found the door and was through it without a backward glance.

She leaned against the counter. Her cup coming up robotically. She stared unfocused at nothing in particular. Had it happened? Was it really just a dream? It couldn't have been. She made her way to the sofa where he had found her. There were no tissues. No mess. The pillow she'd soaked through with tears was were it always was. Tucked neatly against the armrest. Her head turned to inspect the living room. There was nothing to give him away.

Her panties. A smile crept over her. She was still wearing them through her pajama bottoms. It was all she'd woken up in. Her panties. He had undressed her. Explored her body without every laying a finger on her. And his words still echoed. On tiptoes, she ran to her bedroom. There was her dress. Draped over the chair where he'd placed it. Her smile grew as she leaned against the door and pictured him kneeling beside her bed. And there was his tie. It had fallen at his feet. His only mistake. He'd forgotten it.

In slow motion she moved towards it. Reaching out to feel it. Knowing he'd worn it. Did he leave it on purpose? Was it his way of telling her he'd been there? That he existed and that he had been inches from her.

Her clock radio blinked and music shattered her world. She had to wake up. It was time to go to work. The outside was calling. She must look a mess. Her hair was full of rats, her eyes puffy. None of it mattered. Emily stripped on the way to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, she had her panties to her knees when she stopped. She couldn't. She couldn't erase him from her skin. It was all she had to remember him by. But she didn't have work today. Neither did he, but he'd left like usual. Was he fleeing? Was he embarrassed or fearful of spending the day with her? Afraid she'd see the guilt in his eyes?

She was laughing as she ran to his tie and slipped it over her head. Closing her eyes, she cinched it up exactly the way he did. Then she pulled it straight out from her body and followed it with her eyes as it fell between her breasts. He'd kissed them. Suckled them. Most men had never even dreamed of the tenderness he'd kissed them with. She spent the day in just the tie and panties. Dancing around the apartment in a cloud. The hours ticked by and finally she had to remove the tie. She tucked it between her mattresses. He wouldn't look there. And he wouldn't ask about it. He'd realized he was missing one and he'd know which one, but he'd never reveal where he'd lost it.

********

"Are you going out?" Emily looked up from her coffee.

"Out?" His eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Tonight. It's Valentines Day. Are you going out with Karen?"

"Hmm." He checked his watch and walked away from her. "There's no Karen anymore."

"Since when?" Her words caught him before he'd got to the door.

"New Years." And he was gone.

Emily stood in the emptiness she was getting used to. The emptiness he left the minute he was gone. It started as a twitch. And then it was a smile. Soon, the apartment was filled with her laughter. Her arms circled her body in a hug, wishing it were his arms around her. He was single. They both were. Every night since then he'd crept into her bed and explored each and every inch of her. Why? Why hadn't he simply told her? Why couldn't he just tell her he loved her? He could say it when the darkness shielded him. When they both pretended she was asleep.

Her day was a blur. Bundles of roses were delivered one after another all day long. Emily watched with only the hint of interest. He'd never send her any. Deep down, whenever a coworker had received flowers in the past, she'd been jealous. She no longer was. Tonight, she'd lie in bed and be made love to. She knew he would. He had to. Tonight, he wouldn't leave her bed until he brought both of them to completion. She would know the feel of him inside her. Not tonight. Please, not tonight. Don't slip away tonight.

She beat him to the apartment by thirty minutes. She'd showered and slipped into a simple dark red dress. Short, flowing, and easily removable. Her hair was pulled up to give him her neck. A few strands hanging around her eyes for his fingers to brush aside. By the time he walked through the door, she was on her second glass of wine and the spaghetti was almost done. It was one of six meals she could successfully cook on a consistent basis.

"Hello." She said as he draped his jacket over a stool and eyed her.

"Hello."

"I'm making dinner. I didn't want to go out and eat alone. Too depressing." She gave him a sad little smile and turned back to the stove. "I've made enough for you, if you don't have any plans."

"I don't."

"It'll be ready in about twenty minutes. You have time to clean up, if you'd like."

"Hmm." He turned and walked to his bedroom.

Emily hit play on her MP3 player and made sure it was loud enough to be background noise. She'd spent an hour selecting the right songs. Smoothing the apron, her hand paused just below her navel. God, she was already wet. Just seeing his eyes on her. Knowing he would be in her bed hours from now. It was the sweetest torture she'd ever felt. Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus on the bread. Remember to take it out of the oven before it burns. Ignore the tingles and the itchy skin and thoughts of him in the shower naked. She wondered if it was the heat of the oven making sweat break out on her upper lip.

He reappeared as she was setting her plate down on the tiny round table. They'd never shared a meal there. It was almost too small for one, let alone two people. She watched his eyes move around the room. He noticed the candle. A single candle in the windowsill beside the table. His plate already prepared and waiting for him. She hid a smile when his eyes stopped on her legs. They glistened with freshly applied oil.

"I thought we could eat here. I wasted money on the thing. I just thought it was time to use it. You don't have to if you don't want to." Please. She silently begged. Give me this. Sit.

"I don't mind."

The minutes stretched as they worked over their meal. No words between them. Her lip curled when she saw his eyes drift to her calf as she absentmindedly let it bounce after crossing her legs.

"May I ask why you broke up with Karen?"

"I'm not sure I did. She told me she needed more from me and I told her I had nothing to give her. Then she walked away."

"You haven't heard from her since?"

"No."

"Hmm." Emily looked at him critically over her wineglass. "Will you ever have more to give?"

"To Karen?"

"No. To anyone. To the woman you love."

"I imagine so."

"You imagine so?" Her body shook with silent laughter. "I imagine so, too."

His blue eyes turned deep and fathomless as he stared at her. She couldn't tell if he was on the verge of speaking or walking away. Her tongue came out to lick the corner of her mouth as she snuck a peek at him from under thick dark lashes. He swallowed with effort and shifted in his seat. She noticed he hadn't been eating anything. He was aroused. That was it. Her dress, her legs, the deliberate way she'd taken bite after bite. Trying to be as sexy as possible. She felt her own body temperature increase from the realization. He was struggling to contain himself. Letting out a happy sigh, she caught his eyes on her.

"What was that?" His fork rattled on the plate as he wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin.

"The sigh?"

"Yes."

"A random thought. I noticed your hands. I like them. They seem strong."

"Do they?"

"I think they do. It must be an effort to be gentle with hands like that. Did Karen like them? Appreciate them?"

"I never asked." His head dropped to concentrate on his plate and finishing the meal.

"I'm sorry. I know you don't like personal conversation. I felt like drinking tonight. Maybe too much. I watched everyone get roses today but me. I don't know. I guess I'm feeling sorry for myself. That no one cared enough to send me any. That I'm unlovable. It's been awhile since I've dated. Mary at work is trying to fix me up with a friend of hers." She saw his hand tighten around his fork. It sent a tickle down her spine. The insistent tingle between her legs grew to a roar. "It's been so long since I felt a connection to another person. I guess I'm just Hot. I might settle for any man right now."

She switched legs and ran a hand down them. The distinct scent of her arousal found her nose. He had to smell her. Her eyes focused on her fingers tracing lines up her shin to hide the absolute pleasure of seeing his jaw clench tight. The muscles under his shirt were bunched. Emily stood and walked back to the kitchen. She knew his eyes were on her. Drilling into her soul.

"Would you like more wine?"

Emily turned after grabbing the bottle to find an empty seat. He was striding away from her. His back stiff, his steps like a bull's. She could see the rage boiling off of him. She'd pushed him too far. All she wanted from him was to admit it to her face. Say he loved her. Tonight, she needed him tonight. In every way, not just his kiss or his touch or the whispered words, she needed to feel him moving inside her. Driving into her. She needed him.

A strange wetness splashed against her legs. Her eyes had misted over at seeing the man she loved fleeing from her. He turned. His fists balled up tight at his sides. She could see the shocked concern in his eyes as he rushed across the apartment towards her.

"What the hell did you do?" His voice was filled with anger.

Looking down, she saw she was standing in a puddle of red liquid, the shattered bottle of wine between her bare feet. His hands were a blur as she was lifted and set on the counter.

"I...I'm sorry. It slipped. I didn't mean to drop it."

"Of course you didn't."

He moved around the counter and grabbed a handful of towels and tossed a few on the spreading puddle. With one in his hand, he began drying her off. She watched the towel move up and down her lower legs, one after the other. His hands moved higher unnecessarily. There was no wine anywhere near her knee, but his hands moved upwards. Her legs spreading to allow him to work. He caught her movement and lifted his head. His eyes moved up her legs and froze.

The combination of lifting her up, her short dress, and spreading her legs had caused her dress to ride up well beyond the point of no return. She let out a tiny breath, realizing she hadn't put any panties on. He was staring at perfectly bare skin prepared just for him. Shaved and oiled and dripping wet, just for him. The towel fell from his hand as he straightened up. She could feel his hot breath striking her cheek as he tried to steady his nerves. His hands moved up her thighs and squeezed to fight his impulses.

Their eyes met. Shaking her head, Emily shrugged. "I can't take it anymore. I can't pretend. Not anymore. Please."

Her hands found the sides of his face as her lips crashed against his. She placed kiss after kiss, tugging and teasing. With his head gripped tight, she scooted closer until she felt her nipples pressed tightly against his chest. He wasn't kissing her back. Not once. Her groan was of desperation.

"Please." She could feel the tears spilling from her eyes as her thumbs caressed his face. "Please. I know you. I need you. Please. Please love me."

In slow motion his hands came up to grip her wrists. She could feel the heat coming off them. His nostrils flared as his chest rose and fell with effort. Those eyes of his, so fierce and fathomless, dropped with his hands. Pulling her hands from his face. Without raising his eyes, he turned away from her. His footsteps echoing in the apartment to the rapid rhythm of her heart.

In a rage, she grabbed a wooden spoon from the counter and flung it with all her might. All her aggravation and desperation went into the motion. Her angry words struck him before the spoon did.

"Damn you. Why can't you just say it? You love me. I know you do. You have to know I love you. I ache for you. Every night I lie waiting for your touch, your kiss. Damn you. Just give in to it. Just drop this act. I need you."

Emily had slipped off the counter to stand straight as a board, facing him. Her voice went from harsh and filled with anger to a soft-pleading whimper as she lost strength in her legs and fell to her knees.

"I need you. I need to feel you moving inside me. I need to give you the pleasure you've given me every night. I love you. I can't live without your touch. Please. I can't pretend anymore. I don't want it to be a dream anymore. I need you to be real. To let me see you when you love me."

His black dress shoes appeared before her eyes as she stared at the floor. Her body shaking slightly as the tears spilled from her eyes. She didn't have the strength to look up. All she could do was wipe the tears away from her cheek with the back of her hand. This wasn't going the way it was supposed to. She felt so small. Just a child at his feet, pleading for his love. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Her voice cracked as she fought back a sob. "You have to love me. You tell me every night."

The fingers of his right hand tangled in the jumble of hair at the back of her head a split second before he was on his knees before her. Through blurry eyes filled with tears, she saw his furrowed brow, the tortured pain in his eyes. A faint snapping sound drew her eyes to his left hand. Her lashes were heavy with tears, as the dark felt covered box became her world.

"Put it on." His voice was low and harsh. Gravelly with repressed emotion starting to escape.

Emily's bottom lip shook almost as much as her hands as she lifted the diamond ring from the box. She held it inches from her face, watching the glint of light from the candle reflecting off of it. Praying it was real. She was crying again. Openly weeping as she slipped the ring on. Her vision cleared enough to see him waiting with his eyes closed tight. The image of his silent anguish caused a tiny hiccup to escape.

Once again her hands gripped his face as her lips searched out his. This time his were softer, accepting. She tasted the salt of her tears as she wrapped her arms around him and tried to deepen the kiss. His fingers tightened in her hair and pulled her away from him. A strong hand gripped her left hand and pulled it into view. His eyes stared at the diamond ring. She felt his thumb brush across it and then he brought it to his lips as his head dropped.

He ripped a startled gasp from her when he stood, bringing her to her feet with his hand still in her hair. She was half guided, half drug across the apartment towards his bedroom. She felt the coolness of the hardwood floor under her toes as she struggled to keep up with him. He flung her onto the bed, a low grunt escaping from him as he did.

She bounced and rolled. Her dress rode up higher than ever. Her smooth athletic legs instinctively tucked to her chest to protect her. Wiping at her face, her vision cleared enough to see his shirt opening wider and wider as he worked the buttons. Breathless, she watched as his naked body appeared before her. She saw the curly dark hair of his chest. His flat stomach with just the hint of abs showing through. Those crystal blue eyes of his were boring through her. Paralyzing her. Dark slacks dropped as he bent and kicked out of his shoes. When he straightened, he was completely naked before her. His cock was thick and hard. The hunger in his eyes was frightening.

Not understanding the gnawing fear she suddenly felt. She scooted away from him as he walked on his knees towards her. His strong hands found her ankles and pulled her flat on the bed. Her dress rising higher and higher until it was jumbled around her neck. Stormy eyes followed it as her body appeared before him. Her legs were spread as he moved between them. His hands moved over her sides. Leaving trails of fire in their wake. He gripped her dress and pushed it over her head and off. His fingers threaded into hers as the bulk of his body lowered, smothering her under his weight.

Her eyes were wide and frightened when his hips drove up, impaling her completely and sending shards of intensity rippling through her. Emily's head rolled back and her eyes closed tight to feel him for the first time. Her moan mixed with his when his lips found her ear. His heavy breath rolled over her skin.

"Yes." She rolled her head as his lips drew wet patterns over her neck. "Harder. Please."

She felt his hips pull away from her slowly and his muscles tense. Emily bit her lip in anticipation for the animalistic coupling she was about to endure. But he didn't. Blasts of hot breath caused the hairs on the back of her neck rise. His nose slid across her cheek and teased her skin. Blue eyes stared down at her as he breathed into her open mouth. Her lips swollen. She watched the storm roll across his vision and then his cock slid into her torturously slow. When she felt his pelvis greet hers, he flexed his hips, causing her clitoris to roll under his weight.

Her nails dug into the back of his hands as splintered fireballs exploded beneath her skin. Each time his hips flexed her head raised to taste his lips. He denied her each time as he moved upwards to keep his lips just out of reach. She groaned from the agony of it. The beauty. His eyes never left hers. His breath colliding with hers. He pulled her arms down so he could twist his fingers into her hair and keep her head still.

"I love you." She breathed into his mouth.

He gave her a slow nod. His hips flexed quicker.

"You love me."

She watched him swallow hard before his head bobbed. A hint of smile reached his eyes. It was the first true crack in his impenetrable armor.

She felt the beginning rush of her orgasm. It had been building all day. Driving her insane. The constant roll of her clit, the heat of his cock filling her, his eyes boring into her, it was all too much. She struggled to get her hands free. To pull him violently against her. To be allowed enough space to drive her hips into his thrusts.

His eyes darkened as he gripped her tighter and shook his head.

God, it was beautiful agony. The weight of him on top of her was oppressive. She felt the slick slid of her nipples against his chest. The hair tickling her was unbearable. His leg hairs were doing the same to her inner thighs. Oh God, she'd never been wetter. Never felt anything like this before. She was whimpering, begging him with her eyes to kiss her. He refused. His eyes just pinned her beneath him.

He did it again. With just a word he ripped her world apart. He spoke. She came.

His voice was a ragged wound. "Your mine, Em. No one else's. Forever. Every night. I need you like this every night. In my bed. In my arms. Your skin against mine. My children growing inside you. The smell of you. It's everywhere. On me. In me. Damn you, Em. I've never loved anything like you. I've never loved at all. Damn you, Em." He groaned.

She felt his muscles tense to the point of impossibility. His hips lost their steady cruel rhythm. He drove into her in a series of tiny shudders as his forehead dropped to hers. His breath a pained huffing noise as she felt the first blast of his seed drive deep inside her. She lost count of the spasms as he coated her with each lesser blast. It's silky warmth caused a tremor to run through her. A rippling aftershock that spilled over her, overwhelming her as fresh tears filled her eyes.

His lips were hot against her skin as he found each new tear. His hands had left hers and were now roaming down her body. Pulling and caressing her skin. His hunger hadn't quenched at all. He was like a starved beast. His kisses roamed over her body. Tasting her sweat, her skin, her very essence. The minutes stretched to hours as they rolled and explored each other. Each time he came, it was deep inside her. His strong hands tangled in her hair, forcing her to submit to his driving hips until finally they lay exhausted. His eyes finally closing.

Emily lay naked, staring up at his ceiling. Every nerve ending screaming out. Her entire body ached. Inside and out. Her hands were resting on her abdomen. Her fingers toying with the ring on her finger. The ring guaranteeing every night.

The End.