Page 33 of Emil

“Watching me lose my shit because people who should absolutely know better decided to take the word of a fucking liar who lies over the word of someone they’ve known for years. For years. No proof, just his word.”

Emil never moved from the doorway. He never told me it would be fine or that they’d come around. He just let me pound the bread dough until my muscles ached and the adrenaline burned out of my body.

“You done?” Emil asked. There was no emotion, no heat in his voice. It was an inquiry.

I’d ended my tantrum, gripping the edge of the counter. I nodded, but it wasn’t entirely the truth. The adrenaline remnants still coursed through me. I closed my eyes and hung my head low. I knew what I needed.

With an internal sigh that I managed to swallow before it escaped, I pushed off the counter and went to stand in front of Emil. He stayed silent, but his eyes clocked every move I made.

“No, I’m not done. I need… I need to settle.”

“You need to use me for it?”

“Yeah.”

Emil gave me a contemplative look, and given how long it took for an answer to come, I was convinced he was going to say no. Except he didn’t. Instead, he gave me a curt nod, turned on his heel, and said over his shoulder, “Follow me.”

As instructed, I followed Emil into his study. He stopped in front of the leather wingback chair near the window. Before he sat, I positioned myself in front of him. He remained silent and offered no resistance when I reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt. When the center line was undone, I moved to one sleeve and then the other. Emil maintained his silence, and the stillness lessened the pressure that was ever present in my chest.

“Please sit down.” Emil did as I requested, but before he did, he grabbed the pillow from the chair and tossed it on the floor in front of him. “Thank you.” He nodded but kept quiet.

I knelt between his legs. The leftover anger fueled me, and embarrassment never crossed my mind. The anger I felt, the betrayal, had to be exorcised from me, or I wouldn’t survive it.

“May I?” I asked before touching him.

His one, single nod was the permission I needed. I deftly undid his belt buckle. It took a little effort, but I was able to pull it free. That was followed by the unbuttoning of his slacks.

Emil kept his silence. If he was affected by what I was doing, there wasn’t an outward demonstration of it. I returned my concentration to the body in front of me. Carefully, I pushed aside the halves of his shirt, then returned to the zipper in front of me. With his compliance, I felt more of my anger drain away. He wasn’t hard, but not soft either. For me, it didn’t matter. I was there to perform a service and get rid of the unbearable tension still clawing at my throat.

Gingerly, I pulled Emil’s pants and briefs down slightly so I could properly free him. Thankfully, Emil kept his silence and his hands to himself. One rested on the arm of the chair while the other propped his chin up. A quick glance told me he was withdrawn, but not bored. I pushed aside the fabric and exposed his shaft.

“May I?” I asked before going any further.

“Yes.”

His simple answer eased the bands inside me even more. I leaned forward and slipped his cockhead into my mouth. I poured every scrap of concentration I had into the motion. My tongue swirled, then dipped into the small slit across the top. Emil never touched me, never thrust forward, and never spurred me on.

I gave, and he received.

I performed, and he accepted.

I felt the tension release from my body when his cock hardened inside my mouth. I knew he wasn’t unaffected, but he projected complete indifference to the task at hand. I appreciated the restraint. I drew him farther into my mouth, tugging firmly on the cock that cut off my oxygen and left me woozy. It was a welcome change from feeling unsteady because I was so angry I couldn’t see straight.

Emil’s heavy hand came to rest on my head. His fingers loosened the top knot of my hair and it fell around my shoulders. His fingers combed through it, but he still allowed me to set the pace and made no move to hurry me or take control of the moment. Relief coursed through me.

His cock was fully erect and leaking precum down my throat. I redoubled my efforts to bring him release. I hollowed my cheeks and traced the path of nerves along the underside of his shaft. Involuntarily, my fingers flexed against his thighs, which I realized were firm with tension.

“I’m coming,” Emil growled, but I didn’t pull away. I needed to follow through.

The warning came moments before salty cum spilled into the back of my throat. I reflexively swallowed it down. When he softened, I carefully pulled his cock from my mouth.

With the adrenaline gone, I wasn’t sure how to remove myself from the floor without drawing attention. I began to push myself up when Emil’s fingers tightened in my hair.

“Stay.”

He guided my head to his thigh and rested it there. He didn’t speak again, but ran his fingers through my hair. When it was fully combed out, he began to scratch my scalp in a slow, rhythmic motion. Endorphins flooded my system. My breathing evened, and for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt satisfied. Complete.

CHAPTER TEN