Free The Affair: Week 2 by Beth Kery

herself stretching around him . . . melting around his hardness.
    “Ah, Jesus,” he hissed. “You’re so small. So warm.
Hot
.” Both of his hands cradled her hips now as he assisted her, guiding her, taking just enough of her weight to let her ease down on his cock without too much haste or force. Emma was glad he couldn’t see her in the darkness. It wasn’t painful, but it
was
uncomfortable at first, as her body grew accustomed to him. She bit her lip to restrain a moan, worried he would interpret her discomfort and stop what she wanted so much—
    “Emma? Are you all right?” he asked sharply, and she realized that her absolute silence had been warning enough for him. He increased the pressure on her hips, holding her immobile, keeping her from flexing further down on him. She paused with several inches of thick, tumescent flesh piercing her. She craved more.
    “Yes,” she said, air puffing out of her lungs. She’d been holding her breath, and now he knew it. “Please . . . don’t stop,” she begged brokenly.
    He remained unmoving for a moment before he pushed down gently on her hips and another inch of him carved its way into her body. “As if I could,” he muttered darkly, and he brought her closer yet.
    He was filling her, the sensation overwhelming. Wonderful. She finally sat in his lap, his cock fully sheathed inside her. He held her tightly against him. Emma pressed her face into the crevice of his neck and shoulder and shuddered. They panted together, their ragged breaths and the sensation of his cock pulsing high and hard inside her becoming her entire world. Then he nudged her ear with his nose and said her name. She couldn’t decide if those two syllables on his lips were a command or a plea, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, there was only one way she could reply.
    She lifted her hips several inches and sunk down on him again, gasping at the intensity of the pressure. His low, rough groan sounded like it might have been ripped out of the core of him. His fingers sunk into the flesh of her hips and buttocks as he began to assist her in the rise and fall of her body over him.
    “Oh God,” she moaned, because his driving cock was starting a fire in her flesh, the hard, relentless friction making nerves deep inside her burn. Her body ceased resisting him, beginning to crave his possession. Emma lost all sense of time and place as she rose and fell over him. His hands on her hips and ass tightened as he took away more control from her. She let him have it, trusting him.
    She cried out as he thrust her down on him with force, and her buttocks slapped loudly against his thighs. He groaned gutturally, repeating the bull’s-eye stroke again and again until both of them were frenzied. Her clutching hands moved on his shoulders down to his arms as he drove her down on his cock. His biceps were bulging and hard, as he took a good part of her body weight, lifting and plunging, until she longed for nothing else but ignition. Release. She sunk her nails into the dense muscle of his arms and cried out in wild desperation.
    He slammed her down into his lap and pressed her down tightly to him at the same moment that he delved his fingers into her hair and palmed her head.
    “Come here,” he commanded harshly.
    He kissed her forcefully—devoured her—while his cock throbbed deep inside her. The hand on her hip moved, his thumb stretching between her thighs. His fingertip found her clit, rubbing the slick, erect button, and Emma exploded. Waves of pleasure shook her, but he wouldn’t release her from his relentless kiss. It was like being pummeled by two different storm fronts: pleasure and possession. She moaned helplessly into his mouth.
    He ate up every cry.
    * * *
    He finally released Emma from his kiss when her sharp cries became whimpers and he’d worked every last shudder of pleasure from her sleek, sweet body. The fragrance of her climax perfumed the air, the scent of it mixed with