Page 38 of This: Blake & Emon

Instead of answering, he grabbed her, lifting her effortlessly over his shoulder.

She shrieked, laughing as she kicked off her heels, smacking his back playfully. “Emon, put me down!”

“Not yet,” he said, his voice full of mischief.

He carried her straight to the private balcony, stepping onto the terrace where the city stretched out below them. The skyline glowed, the streets buzzing with life, but up here? It was just them.

Emon set her down gently, his gaze sweeping over the setup she had arranged. The chilled champagne waiting in a silver bucket, the rose petals scattered beneath their feet, the warm September breeze wrapping around them like silk. She had thought of everything.

He exhaled, shaking his head. “You really went all out.”

Blake pulled him closer by the waistband of his pants, her lips just a breath away from his. “I did. You enjoy your night?”

He looked at her, drinking in every detail. The way her dress clung to her curves, the way her eyes shimmered under the soft glow of the candles, the way she knew she had him wrapped around her damn finger, it all drove him crazy… 5150.

The kind of crazy where logic didn’t matter. Where he’d risk it all just to keep her close. Where every breath she took, every curve of her body, every sly little smirk she threw his way, made him want to lose his mind over her. The kind of crazy that would have him ready to crash out for any inconvenience that came her way.

“I enjoyed my entire day,” he said, his voice thick. “My mind is blown.”

“Well, that’s all that matters to me.”

Their mouths crashed together, the last bit of restraint between them disappearing. The kisses turned messy and needy. All tongue and heat. Months of living together had taught them exactly how to unravel each other, and tonight, they weren’t holding back.

His fingers found the zipper of her dress, slow but deliberate, while hers explored the hard planes of his back, gripping, pulling, teasing. His hands traced every curve, like he was memorizing her all over again, like she wasn’t already burned into his soul.

Blake arched against him when his lips found that spot on her neck, the one that always had her legs shaking.

“The things you do to me,” she whispered, her voice breathless, her nails digging into his skin.

Emon groaned, his fingers slipping lower, finding her already ready for him. “The things I’m about to do to you,” he promised, his voice rough, his control slipping like a transmission on a Nissan Altima.

She barely had time to respond before his touch stole the words right out of her mouth.

“Damn, Blake the Lake,” he muttered, making her giggle between gasps.

“It’s your birthday,” she managed, her words breaking into a moan as he took his time, savoring every reaction, every shiver.

Emon cupped her face, his thumb tracing slow circles over her cheek as he tilted her chin up.

“You know what you do to me, don’t you?” His voice was thick, rough, like he was barely holding himself together.

Blake bit her lip, that damn knowing look in her eyes. “Maybe.”

He exhaled a slow, shaky breath. “Nah… you know.”

She let her fingers drift over his chest, down his stomach, playing in the belt loops of his jeans. “If I drive you so crazy,” she teased, leaning in so her lips just barely brushed his, “what you gon’ do about it?”

Emon didn’t answer—not with words. By the time he laid her down against the cool sheets, both of them breathless and desperate, he already knew—

He was gone over her.

He slid inside of his safe haven with ease and went to work. Blake moaned into his mouth, pressing closer, making him damn near feral with how soft she was, how right she felt in his hands.

Every kiss, every touch, every breath felt heightened by the night air, by the way their bodies fit together like they had been made just for each other. The stars twinkled above them, the city humming below, but all that mattered was this. The way he loved her, and the way she loved him back.

The day had been perfect.

And so had the night.

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