Marrying Ember
Author:Andrea Randall

Hovering over me, her knees digging into the couch, she paused, drawing her lips across my jawline and ending at my ear so she could whisper to me. “I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want you at this moment.”

 

Her hard nipples pressed against my chest and I wrapped my hands around her hips. “So what are you going to do about it?” I growled into her ear.

 

Challenge flickering in her eyes, Ember moved her hands to the tops of my shoulders and slowly slid onto me. Excruciatingly slow. My fingers dug into her skin as she exhaled loudly, throwing her head back.

 

Each time we made love, I had to spend the first few seconds getting a grip or I feared it would end right there. The way she overrode my well trained sexual defenses caught me off guard more than I cared to admit. All guys have them … things they think about when they don’t want the sex to be over in a split second. Mine ranged from sports to standing naked in a blizzard. It’s true.

 

Somehow, though, when Ember tilted her chin back down and stared at me with warm devotion, that was all the focus I needed. I wanted her. Needed her. Wanted her to feel everything I felt in this moment.

 

“What?” She whispered, breathless as she moved against me.

 

I shook my head, moving my hand to the back of her neck, where I tugged on her elastic and released her hair. A forest of soft auburn encircled us in an instant.

 

“What are you doing?” She insisted, moving faster.

 

I gripped her harder, allowing the silk of her hair to tickle the side of my neck. “I want to be swallowed by you.”

 

I pulled down on her hips harder, and she answered by moving faster, pressing her forehead into my shoulder as I groaned through clenched teeth.

 

“Ah,” she cried out in that quick, panicked, high-pitched way that told me she was close.

 

“Open your eyes,” I commanded, my words spilling out in disorganized ecstasy.

 

Ember lifted her head, her pupils overtaking her eyes. As they rested on mine for a few seconds, I felt the tension building in the way her movements became less graceful. More staggered. More desperate.

 

“I’m …” Ember trailed off as she clenched around me, pulsing hard and fast. Her eyes stayed on me for a few seconds before she threw her head back once more, calling my name over and over as her voice bounced off the walls of our house.

 

Normally I can enjoy the fullness of her orgasm before I’m brought to my own. Not this time. Between the high anxiety I’d been dealing with over proposing to her, and nearly blowing that all up earlier, and the way her chest heaved under her breaths, I couldn’t hold on anymore.

 

I thrusted her down, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her tightly to me as I buried my face in her neck. Her orgasm continued to move through her as mine came. We moaned and panted together as our bodies came to rest and the only thing I could hear was the desire in my heart for this amazing woman. One who I desperately wanted to call my wife.

 

 

 

 

 

Despite my early efforts to screw myself over completely, Ember and I enjoyed the weekend the way we’d intended to. Emotionally far away from everyone else in The Six, we only left the bed to go to the bathroom, or move to the couch. It seemed like a good idea at the time to have my girlfriend naked all weekend. That is until Monday morning came and we were shoulder to shoulder with her parents and all of their friends.

 

 

 

“You look as worn out as I feel.” Regan spoke dryly as we loaded gear under the bus for leg number two of our summer tour.

 

“If I look anything like you do, Kane, kill me now.” I laughed as I slammed one of the compartments shut on the large RV.

 

From the depths of sarcasm rose Georgia in a fluttery mock-Southern accent. “Why, no one could possibly ever look like you do, Bo Cavanaugh. You’re just a dream, wrapped in a milkshake, dipped in—”

 

“Okay, okay we get it. He’s super hot,” Regan exaggerated while shaking his head.

 

Georgia lifted way up onto her tip-toes. “You’re super hot,” she whispered into his ear before she kissed it.

 

Just after Georgia waved goodbye and Regan wiped the smirk from his face, the RVs were loaded and we were waiting for a few stragglers. Namely, Willow.

 

Ember marched down the stairs of the lead vehicle. “Are we set? I heard the doors underneath close.”

 

“Just waiting for Willow,” Regan rattled off.

 

Ember looked between the two of us, took a deep breath, and walked slowly back into the RV.

 

“That could have gone worse.” Regan sounded relieved as he patted my shoulder.

 

“I just hope she’s not saving it for when she sees Willow face-to-face.” By avoiding the rest of the band all weekend, we’d also managed to avoid talk of the overly sexualized flower-child arch nemesis.

 

Regan adjusted the straps on his backpack as he slid his sunglasses on. “It can’t be any worse than Willow trying to hit on you, right?” His tone was hopeful as he smiled.

 

“Let’s hope not,” I groaned and followed Regan onto the RV, where Ember had cleared space for the three of us to sit.

 

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