Tell Me What You Want

EMERALD

For someone who doesn’t know a lot about women beyond what it would take to get them in his bed for the night, Tate was annoyingly dead-on tonight.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d learn eventually, right? Living with the man for nearly a week now had given us both an inner look at the other.

Apparently, Tate was taking far more detailed notes than I had thought he was because he caught me.

Twice. Maybe three, if his smirk on our way home was a sign that he knew I was trying to keep my vagina from making me jump on him like a horny monkey.

~I will so climb that tree. Turn me over, smack my ass, and go again.~

Stop that!

~You know you want to. It’s inevitable, bitch, so lay back and open wide. It’s happening.~

Oh, dear god! What is ~wrong~ with me? Everything is turning traitor!

~Give in, Emerald. Let that fine specimen of a man have his way with you. Over. And over. And over again. All the time. Never stop.~

I whined and put my hands on my cheeks as Tate got out of the car and damn near sprinted around to open my door.

I looked up at him and squeezed my thighs together at the way his eyes practically burned with desire.

There was something else, too. Lust, obviously, but something deeper. Darker, maybe? A hell of a lot stronger than simple lust and physical attraction, whatever it was.

“Emerald.”

I blamed my lengthy dry spell for my actions. I’d be lying, of course, but that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I flung the belt off and I think I may have launched myself like a slingshot out of the car to, I’m ashamed to admit, attack Tate.

To his credit, he didn’t miss a beat as he caught me, slammed the door shut, and held me against it as I devoured him.

I may, or may not, have started rubbing against him, grinding on him with no shame or sense of location.

“Upstairs. Upstairs, for shit’s sake, because I’m not fucking you in a parking garage,” Tate growled, putting me on my feet and pulling me toward the elevator.

“At least one of us is thinking clearly.” I laughed nervously.

“Far from it, actually. I’m just a possessive asshole, and I’m not about to have anyone else see you coming apart for me. That is all mine to have, Emerald.”

He pulled me into the elevator, and the door slid shut as he pinned me against the wall.

“Next time you pull that shit, running off and keeping me from seeing you come, I’m going to turn your ass red, shrimp.”

I had no idea I was into that. A love tap or two had happened before, but it never got me going the way the simple thought of Tate’s hand actually spanking my ass did.

Look at me, being a sexual deviant and shit. I didn’t care what he wanted to do with me so long as he ~did me~.

I sighed as he took my mouth again. And he ~took~. Of course, I ~gave~. How could I not?

Every part of me had jumped ship and taken up residence with the man now claiming the last dregs of me that were resisting. He was, by no means, giving me an option to continue fighting him.

The way he kissed me, demanding, yet tender.

The feeling of his hand on my hips while he tilted my head just right.

The way he felt pressed against me, caging me between him and the elevator wall.

Everything about this felt like it was designed to make me give in.

~And it was working.~

The elevator chimed, and Tate gave me a gentle nip on my bottom lip before spinning around and backing me through the door and into the penthouse.

Something in the back of my mind tickled as it tried to become coherent. Something that was important and should have been remembered.

Whatever it was, it kept slipping away. I couldn’t focus on anything except for Tate. I didn’t want to.

“Too slow,” Tate grunted.

That was the only warning I got before he bent down and picked me up over his shoulder, firmly hooking his arm around the back of my knees.

“Tate!” I squealed as his sure steps took us quickly to his bedroom.

He kicked the door shut behind him and sat me carefully on the end of the bed, holding my face in his hands.

“This is the last chance. If this isn’t what you want, tell me right now, and it stops,” he said seriously. “So, Emerald. Tell me, what do you want?”

“Please, don’t stop,” I whispered.

Shame hit me first. No idea why, but there it was.

And just as quickly, there it went, chased away by the overpowering and all-encompassing feeling of ~right~.

I let go.

I gave in.

I stopped trying to fight a battle I knew I could never win.

Tate King, the pain in the ass jerk I worked for and harbored a silly crush on, the dick who’d asked for my help and who I’d stupidly agreed to marry…

The man that owned my heart, my head, and now, the last bit of myself I had left, had defeated my ability to resist.

Just like I knew he would.

I knew the limits of my resolve, and the way he’d been talking tonight decimated any chance I had of prolonging the inevitable.

“You can trust me, Emerald,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb over my cheek.

“I know. I trust you, Tate.”

I did. I really did. Probably more than I should, but I trusted him. Completely.

“I won’t hurt you. I can’t.”

“I want you to kiss me, Tate,” I demanded.

“Fucking perfect,” he said before he reclaimed my lips. My lips, but they were his territory now.

Everywhere he touched, he claimed more of me as his. My inner feminist screamed, but I shut that bitch down.

I ~liked~ being his. I liked it because he ~asked permission~. Not in as many words but in his actions.

He pulled at my dress, lifting it when I stood to make it easier, and I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

I had a moment of panic as I remembered it was probably worth more than my car, but he kicked it to the side along with his shoes.

Our lips parted for only a moment for him to remove my dress and send it flying to parts unknown.

Fucking shirt buttons were the bane of my existence.

He growled and pulled on his tie before he yanked his shirt open, sending the ones I hadn’t fumbled open pittering to the floor to be stepped on later.

“Fancy belt,” I muttered against his lips when I felt the buckle under my fingers. Of course, I knew his wardrobe well enough to tell I wasn’t going to get that thing open without a manual or a diagram drawn in crayon.

Tate chuckled before he took care of it. As soon as I heard the telltale jingle of metal, I shoved his hands away and pushed his pants down.

I was slightly disappointed he hadn’t worn his silk boxers that he claimed he had, but that was a fleeting thought when what really had my focus was ~right there~ behind the cotton material.

He kicked his pants off the rest of the way as he took the poor abused shirt off completely, leaving us both in just our underwear.

I hadn’t even picked a sexy set. Just black lace panties and matching bra with no underwire. In that dress, it was lace or panty lines, and I hated having a wire under my boobs with no padding. That shit hurt.

I don’t think Tate even noticed, to be honest. As soon as the shirt was discarded, he was kissing me again.

Now that there was bare skin that usually wasn’t bare between us, my skin prickled as bumps rose, and I sucked in a gasp when he pressed us closer together.

That feeling, that burning electric shock, riding up the first drop of the rollercoaster thrill zipped around every inch of my body.

It was like an air hockey puck after too hard of a hit before it sank in with a vengeance and made my knees buckle.

“I got you, baby,” Tate said, holding me up with an arm around my back.

~I’m glad one of us does because I clearly don’t have shit right now.~

With a tug at the back of my thigh, I was picked up and carried onto the bed, Tate walking on his knees, and laid down on the pillows.

When he took his arms away, he sat on his knees and just looked at me. He was so still that if it weren’t for his chest moving as he breathed, I’d think he was a very well-carved statue.

I’d noticed it many times before. Tate wasn’t exactly what you would call “shy.”

There had been times when I’d had to bring his clothes to the office where he had worked through the night, and he’d just whip off his shirt like I wasn’t right there.

I’d always rolled my eyes and turned my back so I’d miss him taking his pants off, but I’d noticed. This man was a work of art.

He had defined muscles built up properly at a gym and maintained regularly. He wasn’t grotesquely beefed out like a juiced-up bodybuilder but finely cut, more like an athlete.

Every inch, from biceps to pecs, abs, and I think that was called an Adonis V, was perfectly proportioned to his structure.

That body, honed into the glorious specimen before me, was powerful. Far more than it looked, because unlike those gym rats that focus on looks, Tate had obviously gone for performance.

Just as I had been studying him, he was studying me. I could feel the path his eyes took like a finger trailing about, making me shiver as more bumps rose on my skin.

Cooling fire, burning ice, whatever that contradictory sensation was, I’d never, ~ever~ felt it before.

“This is what’s been in my dreams for months,” he said quietly, his eyes finding mine. Or did mine find his?

He leaned down, holding himself up on one hand while he touched my lips, my chin, my cheek.

“This, the way you’re looking at me right now. I’ve been tortured by this every night only to wake up and not find it in the morning.”

“I’m here,” I said and licked my lips. “And I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“Promise?”

“I’ll be here, Tate,” I promised.

“So will I, Emerald,” he replied. No. He promised. Somehow I knew the difference.

I leaned up just enough to kiss him.

I could pinpoint the second Tate’s control snapped. Or he gave it up. It happened with an almost pained groan and a firm, commanding yet careful push on my shoulders so I was lying back again.

Something told me that he needed to be the leader in this. I was fine with that, actually.

My three depressing partners before now had been fumbling idiots when left to their own devices, but my body never reacted to them the way it was right now.

It was like Tate had that thing, the missing piece, a key that no one knew existed, even me.

His hand slipped under me, and he flicked my bra open before pulling at the front, his lips landing on every inch of newly uncovered flesh as the material disappeared.

I moaned and closed my eyes when his lips found my nipples. That was shocking, actually.

I wasn’t a fan of nipple play. It always felt awful for some reason, but I really should have known that it wouldn’t be like that with Tate.

The damp heat of his mouth actually felt amazing, and I didn’t cringe when I felt his teeth gently scraping my skin before catching on my nipple and tugging gently.

My back arched slightly, pushing my chest up for him to have as much as he wanted. It felt ~that~ good.

“Tate.” I panted. One hand was on his shoulder, and the other went to his head, sliding into his hair and pulling him closer.

“Oh, baby. You have no idea what you do to me,” he said against my breast.

The vibrations of his voice tickled in all the right ways, and my hips jumped upward on their own. My body may have been a traitor, but right now, it felt too damn good to complain.

Especially when I felt the warm, sure hand that had been gently massaging the breast that didn’t have Tate’s mouth on it move lower, lower…

All the way down my body in an erotically slow movement until it stopped at the top of my panties.

“Tell me what you want,” he said before moving to the other nipple and nibbling on it until it was as hard and sensitive as the other. “I know what you need, but I have to hear what you want.”

Right now, that was an easy question to answer. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted no more clothing, sweaty bodies, and to see the stars as he made me come.

After this, however, it might be different. I lacked the higher brain function to think past the immediate, though, so I gave him the only thing that made any kind of sense.

“I want you, Tate. I want to feel you.”

“Where?” He groaned, his hands slipping under my panties, dragging them down, and I lifted my hips so they could go the hell away.

“Everywhere.” His fingers slowly dragged up the inside of my thigh, making me shiver.

“I need to taste you,” he said urgently before he moved downward. He shoved my legs open and licked his lips as he looked at me. “So wet. All for me.”

“Yes,” I admitted, though I didn’t think he needed an answer with the truth right there.

I cried out in shock and immense pleasure when he shot forward and claimed my clit with his mouth.

Oral, like nipple play, wasn’t something I had enjoyed before. It was a warm-up to get the engine going, but it never put that bitch in drive and took it out for a joy ride. Once again, Tate was the exception.

I could feel it. It was a long way out, but the speed that Tate was bringing me closer with was going to get me there quickly.

So fast, I was sure I’d end up slamming into pleasure with enough force to send me into the next dimension.

~Bring it on!~

He licked, sucked, nibbled, and did this thing that I couldn’t begin to describe while, with white knuckles, I held on to the sheets.

I was hurtling closer to that moment I so desperately needed already, but when he slid a finger inside of me, it was a can of gas thrown on a bonfire.

~Explosive~.

I grabbed onto his hair and cried out as my orgasm hit me in waves that racked my body and sent me into a world made only of ecstasy. Pure bliss. Total and complete pleasure. All of it and more.

I fell back into reality quickly, and my mind reeled as it tried to make sense of things again. I was panting and blind; my whole body was dancing with tingling shocks that felt so damn good.

“Emerald. Look at me,” Tate said, and I realized I was blind because I had closed my eyes. When, I didn’t know. Didn’t care, either.

I opened my eyes and looked down my body at him. His mouth and chin were wet with my fluids, and he looked very much like a predator stalking his prey.

His pupils were dilated, and there was no hiding the desire and lust that burned in his eyes.

Not breaking eye contact, he kissed my mound before making his way up my body until his face was hovering over mine, and he slowly started moving his fingers inside of me again.

“Don’t look away,” he said when my eyes fluttered for a moment. “I want to watch you, baby. I want to see the things I’m doing making you feel good.”

“Ta-ate!” I cried when he added a second finger and curled it just right, hitting that place no one had been able to find before. The fabled G-spot.

He flicked once before he abandoned it, adding more force and speed to the rhythm of his hand.

Then, he reached it again, retreating just when I thought I’d had enough to go over again. He was fucking teasing me, using my own body against me. I wasn’t even mad about it, either.

“The sounds you make,” he said, his jaw ticking after the fourth time. “Fucking hell, Emerald.”

“Please, Tate,” I whined and held onto his wrist.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, and I moaned as he once again hit that spot.

“I want you to make me come, Tate. Please.”

I couldn’t believe I had been reduced to begging but couldn’t find it in me to care enough to be upset. Maybe later, but right now, I needed that release that he was keeping from me. I needed it badly.

“Don’t look away,” he reminded me as he delivered what I asked for.

One, two, three strokes to the magical G-spot and I found myself back in that other world.

I floated around there for a bit longer before I slammed back into my own world, panting and slightly sweaty.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Tate whispered as he removed his fingers and pushed his boxers down.

“Condom,” I remembered, and he sat up, reaching into the drawer beside the bed and grabbing a foil packet.

I took it from him, ripped it open with my teeth and rolled it on, taking my time to appreciate the goddamned treasure in my hands.

The man was built to perfection, so it made sense his cock was the same way. Glorious. Beautiful. Bigger than I thought I’d be able to handle, but dammit if I wasn’t about to try.

I gave him a few pumps before he swatted my hands away and pinned them by my head, leaning over me with a wild look creeping into his eyes.

“Do that later. Right now, I want that beautiful pussy around me when I come,” he said before kissing me hard.

He let my hands go and sank to his elbows. I parted my legs to either side of his thighs as he reached between us and pinched my clit softly before lining himself up.

“Slow or fast, baby? You’re so tight; this might hurt a little,” he said against my lips.

“Fast. I can’t wait, Tate. Take me fast.” I groaned, the sound cutting off into a gasp as he slammed himself forward, burying himself inside of me.

“Shh. Relax. I’ve got you,” he whispered to me, and I shook at the small bite of pain as I tried to adjust. “So tight. Baby, you need to relax before I embarrass myself.”

I pushed at the fog in my head and tried to focus on relaxing. When I finally adjusted to the sudden stretch, the haze lifted a little, and I was able to relax a bit.

Tate took that as his cue and started moving. Slow. Gloriously slow. I felt…everything. Annoyance flashed through me at the condom, and Tate chuckled as he kissed my neck.

“We’ll talk about going bare some other time,” he said, somehow knowing.

Soon enough, thoughts left, and only pleasure remained.

The sounds our bodies made together, the moans and panting adding to the erotic soundtrack as we sought that other world together, were all background music to feeling.

I’d never felt anything like this before.

Tate not only made me feel good from a sexual point, but he didn’t stop his wandering hands, the trails of kisses…

His words, intended to be sensual, were made into this personal switch of added pleasure that he could turn off and on at will.

Something changed after a time. Like a rubber band breaking after being pulled too far.

It snapped, and we both felt it; for a second, Tate stopped moving, and his head snapped up, his eyes finding mine, once again ~asking for permission~, before the tenderness was pushed aside, and the carnal side came forward.

The pace was brutal in the best way, making me moan louder than before as my legs arched to spread further. Tate lifted my hips just so and hit that spot that made my toes curl.

“Tate. Tate. Tate!” I chanted as the coil inside of me pulled tight then broke.

I think I screamed. Maybe? It was hard to tell since the only thing that really registered was the orgasm ripping me apart, slamming me together, then pulling me back into pieces over and over again, and Tate. Always Tate.

“Fuck!” he shouted and slammed into me hard, tensing up and riding our climaxes out together until we came back to our own world again.

His body went slack as he caught himself on his elbows again, our foreheads together and panting mingling as the euphoria wrapped around us.

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours later when he slowly pulled out of me and flopped to the side, his chest still heaving with his breaths.

The emptiness was starkly highlighted after having been so full, and I shuddered.

“I don’t want to move.” I sighed.

“Me either, but I need to get rid of this.” He gestured to the condom he was still wearing. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”