Emma’s breath ca in shallow, uneven waves, her bare chest rising and falling beneath the dim lamplight. Every inch of her skin still tingled from where his mouth and hands had road.
Her pink buds were flushed and sensitive, aching faintly from the attention they’d already received, and a warm, liquid heat pulsed low in her belly.
William paused above her, drinking in the sight of her flushed face and glassy eyes. His own heartbeat thudded harder against his ribs as he searched her expression.
"Are you alright?" His voice was low, slightly concerned.
Emma swallowed, then gave a small, shaky nod. "Just... a little nervous."
The corner of his mouth curved. He dipped his head until their foreheads nearly touched.
"Then let take care of you," he murmured against her lips.
The kiss was slow this ti, deliberately unhurried. He caught her bottom lip between his, sucking gently before sliding his tongue inside to taste her—sweet, warm, faintly trembling.
One large hand cradled the back of her head while the other drifted down the centerline of her body: over the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat, between the soft swell of her breasts, along the quivering plane of her stomach, stopping just above the place where she was already slick and aching for so attention.
Emma made a small, helpless sound into his mouth.
When he finally drew back, his eyes were nearly black with want, yet his thumb kept tracing soothing circles over her hipbone.
"Will..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, shy and uncertain. "Shouldn’t I... be doing sothing too?" Her cheeks burned hotter. "You’ve been touching everywhere, kissing everywhere, and I’ve just... lain here. Letting you."
William’s gaze softened, but the heat in it didn’t fade.
He leaned closer until his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
"You have no idea how much pleasure it gives just to watch you co undone," he said quietly, voice velvet and rough at once. "The way your thighs tremble when I kiss the inside of them. The little gasps you make when my tongue finds the spot that makes your back arch. The way your fingers twist in the sheets when you’re trying so hard not to cry in pleasure."
He pulled back just enough to et her eyes again.
"But if you want to touch ..." His hand caught hers, guiding it slowly downward until her palm rested over the thick, straining length of him beneath his trousers. Even through the fabric she could feel the heat, the insistent pulse. "Then touch , love. Explore the sa way I’ve been exploring you. There’s no hurry. No rules."
Emma’s fingers flexed instinctively, curling lightly around him. A low groan rumbled in his chest—the first crack in his careful control—and the sound sent a fresh rush of warmth between her thighs.
"Like this?" she whispered, voice trembling with equal parts nerves and curiosity.
William’s eyes fluttered half-closed for a heartbeat.
She drew in a shaky breath, then—slowly, carefully—pushed herself up onto her elbows. The dress slid down her hips as she sat up, her bare breasts swaying gently with the movent.
William stilled above her, watching with dark, rapt attention as she rose to her knees on the mattress.
"Emma..." His voice was a rough whisper, half warning, half plea.
She t his gaze for a long mont—nervous, yes, but burning with sothing new. Curiosity. Want. The need to give back even a fraction of what he’d already poured over her skin.
Her hands moved to his waist. She hooked trembling fingers beneath the leather of his belt, feeling the cool tal buckle against her knuckles.
William’s stomach tightened under her touch; she could see the muscles there flex and release.
With a soft clink, she worked the buckle open. The sound seed impossibly loud in the quiet room. Next ca the button of his trousers—her fingertips fumbled for a second before it popped free.
She glanced up at him again. His jaw was clenched, eyes heavy-lidded, breath coming in shallow pulls through parted lips. He looked like he was holding himself together by sheer will.
Emma slid her hand inside, past the waistband of his underwear, and wrapped her fingers around him.
He was hot. Thick. Velvet-hard in her palm.
A ragged sound tore from his throat as her touch closed around his length. She felt him twitch, swell even further against her grip.
Slowly—hesitantly at first—she drew him free of the confining fabric, letting the trousers and underwear slip low on his hips.
There he stood—proud, flushed dark at the tip, a bead of moisture already glistening at the slit. The sight made heat flood her cheeks and her core at the sa ti.
William exhaled sharply through his nose, one hand coming up to thread gently into her hair—not guiding, just holding, grounding himself.
"Touch however you want," he rasped. "God, just... touch ."
Emma swallowed. Her thumb brushed tentatively over the sensitive head, spreading that slickness in a slow circle. He hissed, a groan of pleasure leaving his throat.
Emboldened, she wrapped both hands around him now—one at the base, the other stroking upward in a long, exploratory glide.
She marveled at the contrast: the silky skin sliding over rigid heat, the way veins stood out beneath her fingers, the way he pulsed in ti with his racing heartbeat.
She experinted—squeezing lightly, then firr; stroking faster, then dragging agonizingly slow. Each change pulled a different sound from him: a low groan, a sharp inhale, a muttered curse that sounded almost reverent.
When she leaned forward and let her breath ghost over the glistening tip, William’s hand tightened in her hair—not pulling, just trembling.
"Emma..." His voice cracked on her na. "If you put your mouth on right now, I’m not sure I’ll last long enough to be gentle with you after."
She looked up at him through her lashes, lips parted, cheeks flushed.
"Then maybe," she whispered, voice soft but teasing as she said, "you shouldn’t be gentle."
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A/N:- Thanks for reading.
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