tell her they were no longer alone. Behind her, the house remained quiet. Her stomach tightened and flattened as he freed the third, fourth and fifth buttons, drawing her heavy breast from the protection of the flannel.
“C.C. and John, Ethan and Margaret…the fucking’s enough to make a man crazy,” he said as he rasped his thumb across her pebbling nipple.
“Is it?” Emma pressed her thighs together. She’d already begun to throb and flood. “You should close the door, Mickey.”
He squeezed her breast, pinched her nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger. Emma gasped, reaching for him. He caught her hand and settled it atop his shoulder before he leaned into her, his cold buttons grazing her smarting nipple, and caught the door to draw it closed. Her fingers curled, slid around to clutch the back of his neck. Not speaking, he lowered his head and bit her, a long, sharp pain that shot directly to her pussy. Emma’s head sagged. Mickey caught her around her waist before her knees gave out. He shifted their bodies, pinning her to the side of the house with his knee between her legs, and bit a second time.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bore down on his thigh. The hard length of muscle between her legs was a poor substitute for the hard length of muscle against her stomach, but she’d have that soon enough. Mickey never left her wanting.
He also never came to her so urgent. His teeth worried her breasts, hard enough on her nipples to elicit a gasp of real pain as he pulled at her and kneaded her hips. His shoulders shook in her hold. When she jerked at a particularly fierce bite, he hauled himself back and stood tall, his features hidden by the brim of his hat.
“I’ve kept away too long to do this the nice way,” he said above her head, breathing harshly. “Forgive me.”
“You have kept away too long.” She unwound her arms and stroked her palms down his chest, pausing at the slightly raised discs of his nipples, pressing there with the heels of her hands. He tensed, his chest flexing restlessly at her touch. He was straining hard to keep himself under control. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “And you came at a poor time for doing this properly.”
Relishing the heavy pulse between her thighs and the erratic twitch of his cock against her hip, Emma lifted her gaze to meet his. Mickey Lowe didn’t let himself lose control. The idea of him on the edge amused and thrilled her at once. Driven to provocation, she crossed her arms at the small of her back and watched the way his features tightened when her bare breasts thrust toward him.
“Maybe you should call tomorrow,” she suggested. “After you have a better handle on yourself.”
“Maybe I should turn you around and have a go at your ass to take the edge off this need,” he countered evenly.
Emma’s eyes widened. “Mickey—”
Lowering his head to graze her lips with a kiss, he cut her off. “Don’t play with me. We don’t have the luxury of a whole night and as much as I enjoy you tight and shivering in my hands, I don’t want to lose any part of your precious body to frostbite.”
She swallowed, suddenly aware his tension stemmed from more than a simple shortage of sex. The realization muted her arousal. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing to talk about right now.” He cupped the sides of her head and brushed her lips a second time, lingering to lick at her mouth.
Mickey didn’t usually make much of kissing. Emma stared at him as he nibbled her bottom lip, as he drew the tip of his tongue along the inside of her upper lip. Sudden apprehension held her frozen.
Ignoring her uncertainty, he deepened the kiss. She’d had his tongue inside her mouth before, of course, but never with such an aim of tenderness behind it. He explored her mouth slowly, his thumbs drawing small circles behind her ears, his erection a stiff, still heat at her stomach. Before she could stop herself, Emma closed
“C.C. and John, Ethan and Margaret…the fucking’s enough to make a man crazy,” he said as he rasped his thumb across her pebbling nipple.
“Is it?” Emma pressed her thighs together. She’d already begun to throb and flood. “You should close the door, Mickey.”
He squeezed her breast, pinched her nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger. Emma gasped, reaching for him. He caught her hand and settled it atop his shoulder before he leaned into her, his cold buttons grazing her smarting nipple, and caught the door to draw it closed. Her fingers curled, slid around to clutch the back of his neck. Not speaking, he lowered his head and bit her, a long, sharp pain that shot directly to her pussy. Emma’s head sagged. Mickey caught her around her waist before her knees gave out. He shifted their bodies, pinning her to the side of the house with his knee between her legs, and bit a second time.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she bore down on his thigh. The hard length of muscle between her legs was a poor substitute for the hard length of muscle against her stomach, but she’d have that soon enough. Mickey never left her wanting.
He also never came to her so urgent. His teeth worried her breasts, hard enough on her nipples to elicit a gasp of real pain as he pulled at her and kneaded her hips. His shoulders shook in her hold. When she jerked at a particularly fierce bite, he hauled himself back and stood tall, his features hidden by the brim of his hat.
“I’ve kept away too long to do this the nice way,” he said above her head, breathing harshly. “Forgive me.”
“You have kept away too long.” She unwound her arms and stroked her palms down his chest, pausing at the slightly raised discs of his nipples, pressing there with the heels of her hands. He tensed, his chest flexing restlessly at her touch. He was straining hard to keep himself under control. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “And you came at a poor time for doing this properly.”
Relishing the heavy pulse between her thighs and the erratic twitch of his cock against her hip, Emma lifted her gaze to meet his. Mickey Lowe didn’t let himself lose control. The idea of him on the edge amused and thrilled her at once. Driven to provocation, she crossed her arms at the small of her back and watched the way his features tightened when her bare breasts thrust toward him.
“Maybe you should call tomorrow,” she suggested. “After you have a better handle on yourself.”
“Maybe I should turn you around and have a go at your ass to take the edge off this need,” he countered evenly.
Emma’s eyes widened. “Mickey—”
Lowering his head to graze her lips with a kiss, he cut her off. “Don’t play with me. We don’t have the luxury of a whole night and as much as I enjoy you tight and shivering in my hands, I don’t want to lose any part of your precious body to frostbite.”
She swallowed, suddenly aware his tension stemmed from more than a simple shortage of sex. The realization muted her arousal. “Tell me what’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing to talk about right now.” He cupped the sides of her head and brushed her lips a second time, lingering to lick at her mouth.
Mickey didn’t usually make much of kissing. Emma stared at him as he nibbled her bottom lip, as he drew the tip of his tongue along the inside of her upper lip. Sudden apprehension held her frozen.
Ignoring her uncertainty, he deepened the kiss. She’d had his tongue inside her mouth before, of course, but never with such an aim of tenderness behind it. He explored her mouth slowly, his thumbs drawing small circles behind her ears, his erection a stiff, still heat at her stomach. Before she could stop herself, Emma closed
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