Chapter 160

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she tugged Abigail closer, their lips meeting in a passionate, urgent kiss. When they finally broke for air, Emma’s voice was husky with desire.

“Fuck me right here, right now, baby,” she growled against Abigail’s mouth.

Abigail’s heart raced, her cock twitching in her jeans. “Yes, ma’am,” she breathed, her hands roaming down to cup Emma’s ass.

Emma reached between their bodies, her fingers deftly unbuttoning Abigail’s jeans. She slipped her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around the thick, hard length of Abigail’s cock. Abigail gasped, her hips bucking slightly.

“Fuck, Em,” she groaned, her face flushed with need. “You always know just how to get me going.”

Emma smirked, her grip tightening. “I know you love it when I take control,” she purred, her free hand working on her own soaked panties.

Abigail watched, transfixed, as Emma pushed the damp fabric aside and bared herself to the cool air of the car. She was already so wet, her pussy glistening with arousal.

“God, you’re so pretty like this,” Abigail murmured, reaching out to stroke Emma’s slick folds.

Emma climbed into the driver’s seat, straddling Abigail’s lap as she positioned her dripping pussy over the thick, hard cock nudging against her entrance. Without hesitation, she sank down, taking every pulsing inch of Abigail inside her. A blissful moan escaped her lips as she adjusted, reveling in the pleasure-pain of being so thoroughly filled.

Abigail’s hands immediately went to Emma’s hips, her fingers digging into the soft flesh as she began to guide her beloved’s movements. “That’s it, baby,” she urged, her voice husky with desire. “Ride me just like that.”

Emma set a steady, grindy pace, her juices coating Abigail’s cock and the seat beneath them. Her eyes rolled back, pleasure coursing through every nerve as she reveled in the sensation of being so deeply joined with Abigail.

Abigail leaned forward, capturing Emma’s mouth in a searing kiss as their hips collided, hips moving in perfect sync.

“Faster, Em,” Abigail growled against Emma’s lips. “I want to feel you coming apart on my dick.”

Emma’s pace quickened, her inner walls clenching around Abigail’s shaft as she chased her climax. The head of Abigail’s cock battered her cervix with every powerful downward drive, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Abigail’s hands slid up to Emma’s waist, her fingers digging in to help pull Emma down harder, deeper with each thrust. “Fuck, you feel amazing,” she groaned, her own orgasm building at the base of her spine. “Come on my cock, Em. Let me feel you soak me.”

With a keening wail, Emma’s pussy spasmed around Abigail, her cunt milking the length of Abigail’s cock as she came hard. The intense contractions sent Abigail over the edge, her cock throbbing wildly as hot, thick cum spurted inside Emma’s still-twitching walls. Their moans and gasps filled the car as they rode out their pleasure, lost in the blissful throes of their love-making.

The car was quiet for a long moment, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Emma rested her forehead against Abigail’s, both of them flushed and warm, wrapped in the soft, hazy glow that followed their private moments.

Emma’s lips brushed Abigail’s cheek. “Now I really need a snack,” she whispered with a sleepy smile.

Abigail let out a breathy laugh, brushing her thumb along Emma’s hip before gently lifting her off her lap. “Come on, baby… let’s get upstairs before you fall asleep on me.”

They straightened their clothes, fixing buttons and tugging fabric back into place, sharing small smiles and stolen kisses as they did. Abigail tucked a loose piece of Emma’s hair behind her ear.

“You okay?” she murmured.

Emma nodded, eyes soft and full of affection. “Perfect.”

Abigail opened her door and stepped out, circling around to open Emma’s. She offered Emma both hands, helping her out carefully — always mindful of her balance now that she was pregnant.

Once Emma was on her feet, she looped her arms around Abigail’s waist, leaning into her with a dreamy, satisfied sigh.

“We should probably get the groceries,” Abigail teased gently.

Emma whined, burying her face in Abigail’s chest for a moment before pulling back with a playful pout. “Fine. But you’re carrying them.”

“I always do,” Abigail grinned.

She grabbed every bag from the trunk, loading herself up like a pack mule while Emma walked beside her, one hand on her belly, the other holding onto the back of Abigail’s hoodie.

The elevator ride up was quiet and sweet. Emma leaned her head on Abigail’s shoulder, still glowing, still clinging to her like she didn’t want even an inch of distance.

When the elevator doors opened on their floor, Abigail shifted the bags and offered her arm again. Emma held onto her, letting Abigail guide her gently toward the front door of their penthouse.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Emma let out a soft breath and smiled up at Abigail.

“I love you,” she murmured.

Abigail leaned in, kissed her forehead, and whispered against her skin, “I love you too, baby. Now let’s put these groceries away before you start craving something else.”

Emma giggled, already heading toward the kitchen. “Too late.”

Abigail set the grocery bags on the kitchen island with a soft exhale.
Emma followed behind her, still nibbling from her tub of cheese balls, her steps slow and relaxed — the satisfied, dreamy kind of slow.

“Alright,” Abigail said, rolling her shoulders once. “Let’s unpack.”

Emma didn’t unpack.

She walked straight up behind Abigail and hugged her from the back, arms sliding around her waist, cheek pressed between Abigail’s shoulder blades.

Abigail smiled down at the counter. “Baby… these groceries aren’t going to put themselves away.”

“Yes they will,” Emma murmured. “If you do it.”

Abigail laughed quietly, leaning back into her just a little. “You’re unbelievable.”

Emma kissed her shoulder through the fabric of her hoodie. “You love it.”

“I do,” Abigail admitted, pulling out the container of heavy cream and setting it in the fridge one-handed. “But I also need to see what I grabbed. You’re blocking my arms, baby.”

Emma didn’t let go.

Not even a little.

She rested her chin on Abigail’s shoulder and watched her work from that angle, following every movement like Abigail was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

Abigail set down butter, cheese, vegetables, and seasonings, placing everything in its spot. Each time she reached for a bag, Emma pushed closer — bumping her hips into Abigail’s, rubbing tiny circles on Abigail’s stomach with her thumbs.

“You okay?” Abigail asked softly, half-laughing.

Emma nodded into her shoulder. “Just love you too much today.”

Abigail melted a little, covering Emma’s hands with her own for a moment before continuing.

Once the bags were empty, Abigail washed her hands and began pulling out ingredients for dinner:

Chicken thighs and drumsticks

Flour and seasonings

Collard greens

Buttermilk

Cornbread mix

Cheddar cheese

Elbow macaroni

Emma hopped onto the counter again, hugging her knees and watching her with that look — the soft, heavy-lidded one that said she was in complete love-drunk mode.

“You’re staring,” Abigail teased as she set the chicken in a bowl.

“I have every right,” Emma murmured.

Abigail shook her head with a smile as she seasoned the chicken. Emma hummed approvingly.

“You always smell so good when you cook,” Emma said.

“That’s the garlic,” Abigail laughed.

“No,” Emma said, leaning forward to kiss the back of Abigail’s neck. “That’s you.”

Abigail bit her lip, reaching for the flour mixture. “Baby… you’re distracting me again.”

“I’m helping.”

“You sure?”

Emma nodded, leaning her forehead against Abigail’s back again. “You cook better when I’m attached to you.”

Abigail dipped the chicken into the buttermilk, then back into the seasoned flour, her movements practiced and calm despite Emma’s latest attempt to fuse their bodies together.

“You know what I want to do after dinner?” Emma asked softly.

“What’s that?”

“Lay on you and not move.”

Abigail smiled. “Perfect. That’s exactly what I want too.”

Once the oil began to pop gently in the skillet, Abigail carefully lowered the first pieces of chicken in. The rich, sizzling sound filled the kitchen.

Emma inhaled deeply. “Smells like heaven.”

“That’s the goal,” Abigail murmured.

She moved to the sink to rinse the collard greens, and Emma slid off the counter, hugging her from behind again, chin on Abigail’s shoulder.

“You’re seriously attached today,” Abigail said, laughing softly.

Emma squeezed her gently. “Can’t help it. You were gone all day.”

“I was in class, Em.”

“Still too long.”

Abigail smiled and leaned back into her. “Well… I’m home now.”

Emma kissed her cheek. “Good. Stay where I can reach you.”

“I’m literally over a hot stove,” Abigail joked.

“And I’m your oven mitt,” Emma replied, hugging her tighter.

Abigail laughed so hard she almost dropped the greens. “Baby, you’re going to kill me.”

“You’d die warm and loved,” Emma said sweetly.

“Oh my God,” Abigail said, still laughing. “Stop.”

“I can’t,” Emma whispered into her neck. “I’m in love.”

Abigail’s heartbeat softened to something warm and molten. “Yeah… me too.”

The kitchen filled with the golden smell of fried chicken, buttery cornbread, and creamy mac and cheese. Abigail stirred, flipped, checked, adjusted — with Emma glued to her the entire time like a human magnet.

At one point, Abigail tried to reach for the salt, and Emma leaned right along with her, arms still around her.

Abigail laughed. “You’re not letting go, huh?”

“Nope,” Emma said, kissing her neck again. “Never.”

And Abigail smiled like she wouldn’t have it any other way.