home » Romance » Emma Hart » Late Call (Call #1) » Late Call (Call #1) Page 46

Late Call (Call #1) Page 46
Author: Emma Hart

“Anytime, Annabelle. Anytime,” Joel responds, coming closer with his camera. “You two are f**king magical. Ms. Luiz is going to be one happy lady when she sees this.”

I smile and rest my nose alongside Aaron’s. He opens his eyes and I get lost in a sea of blue, completely captivated in him in this moment. Still with desire humming through my veins.

He runs his thumb along my jaw, and my lips part. I curve my fingers around his neck, and I nearly forget we’re not alone.

“Perfect. Hold it there.”

I couldn’t move away if I tried.

“And we’re done.” Joel stands and claps once. “Unravel yourselves and come see.”

Everyone’s eyes are suddenly away from us, and Aaron helps me stand. “You’re a natural,” he murmurs, kissing me softly.

I smile and shake my head. A towel is handed to me and I wrap it around my body, leaving his arms to find Joel in the house.

He pats the stool next to him in the kitchen as he uploads the pictures to his laptop. One by one, pictures flick across the screen too quickly to see. By the time Aaron joins us, they’re all on there.

“Don’t need these,” Joel grumbles, deleting all the images of Derrick and Reah and Derrick and me. “Here we go. Let’s see what we have.”

A large image of me and Aaron fills the screen and my jaw drops. It’s not bad—far from it. It’s amazing. And every one after is even more so. We look so natural, so together, so desperate for one another.

Each hand is perfectly placed, our eyes are connected even when they’re closed, and pure, unadulterated lust is written all over our faces.

“Brilliant. These are brilliant.” Joel flicks through them. “It’s not often one gets to shoot their boss—in a photographical sense or otherwise—but this? This needs to happen again.” He shuts the top down and sighs happily. “You two. Magical. Amazing. Wow.”

“Thanks, Joel.” Aaron shakes his hand.

“I’m gonna pack up and go and find that Annabelle.” He winks and walks back through the beach.

Aaron and I sit in silence until everyone leaves. His eyes burn into me the whole time, doing nothing to expel the lingering arousal in my body. The fierceness in them makes me feel naked, completely exposed to him.

“Get dressed,” he orders me. “Our car is waiting.”

I take my clothes from him. “No one else is here, are they?”

“We’re alone.”

Good. I drop the towel and unclip the bra-style bikini top. My body heats at the way Aaron’s eyes roam over my body, and I crook my fingers in the sides of the bright bottoms.

“Turn around.”

I quirk an eyebrow but do as he says. My back is to him as I bend forward and shimmy the fabric down my legs. I step out of it and reach for my dress, stopping when I feel his hands on my hips.

He slides one around to my front and dips it between my legs. “Still so wet,” he murmurs into my neck.

I reach around and brush my fingers across his hard cock. He shudders, and I peel back the wet material clinging to him to touch him. “Still so hard,” I respond in kind.

He moves his hand so quickly a cold breeze caresses my sex. “Put your dress on and get in that car.”

I pull it over my head and tuck my underwear in my purse. “Sex in the back seat?”

Aaron buttons his pants, his shorts discarded on the floor, and follows me out. He doesn’t answer until he opens the door for me.

“No, a good hard f**k that will have you screaming my name by the time we reach the city. Several times over.”

I hold my breath until he joins me in the car and closes the partition. The engine rumbles as we pull away from the villa, and I look over at him.

“You left our stuff on the floor.”

“The villa belongs to me. They’ll be washed and returned tomorrow.”

He grabs my thighs and pulls me to him. I straddle his lap, sinking my fingers into his hair as his sink inside me. I exhale heavily at the feeling, our lips meeting.

“Should have you bare beneath all of your dresses,” he breathes. “I love how easy it is to touch you.”

“Only if you follow the same rule.”

He laughs, taking his fingers from me and releasing his erection. His swollen head rubs against me, and he teases my opening by dipping in partially then slipping up to nudge my clit.

“If you’ll take me this easily, I’ll forget pants every f**king day.” Our mouths meet in a feverish kiss and I whimper, pushing down against him.

“There’s nothing easy about this.”

He eases into me, going as deep as he can, drawing a breathy moan from me, and holds me against him. “This is easy, Dayton, but only because my need to be inside you is stronger than all else. I want to slide down this seat and lick you from below while you ride my tongue, and I want to tease you to your release with my fingers flicking between your ni**les and your clit, but I need to f**k you.” He rocks our hips, stretching me and filling me so deeply there isn’t a part of his c**k not inside me. “And savor it, because the next time I’ll be inside you will be in Italy, and I won’t be doing it this way. I’ll be spreading you on the bed and devouring every inch of you with every part of me, worshipping you, and I’ll be making love to you.”

“Oh…”

He kisses my neck, lifting my hips and dropping them back down. Our movements become more frantic, his grip tighter on my hips, mine tugging his hair.

“But right now…” He stares into my eyes, pushing himself right into me. “ Right now, I’m going to f**k you until your throat is sore from screaming my name.”

And he does. He pounds into me relentlessly until I tumble over the edge, his name leaving me in a series of desperate cries.

And he doesn’t stop.

And when he yells his own release, I go again, screaming until I’m sure everyone in Sydney can hear it.

Chapter Sixteen

Milan. A beautiful city in a country that values love above all else.

I walk around the extensive suite. The outside wall is exactly like the one in Vegas – where it’s wall-to-wall windows. I can stand against it, my body flattened against the coolness of the glass, and see the whole of the city. As the sun rises, I can run my eyes along the skyline and see every inch of the gorgeous, romanticized city that surrounds me.

And I do. I lean into the glass being warmed by the sun and flatten my hands, spreading my fingers wide. I breathe in deeply, as if the Italian air creeping in on a breeze through the bedroom window can clear my head. As if the incredible view before me can wash away all my thoughts and replace them with a sense of wonderment and awe. As if I can forget the feelings and just enjoy Italy.

Search
Emma Hart's Novels
» His Call (Call #2.5)
» Final Call (Call #2)
» Late Call (Call #1)