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This is some sort of nightmare that you’ll wake up from soon... like now... or now... or now.
Wake up!
My mouth falls open, pressing against his ear from the pressure of him drawing our bodies close together. And just when I think my imagination has played wild and crazy tricks on me, his lips move to my collarbone, biting down on my skin.
“Logan,” I whisper, strained and holding back the pain from his bite. “What are you doing?”
Not answering my question, he buries his head in my neck and grips harder. I have no idea what’s going on and feel helpless because I’m unable to stop it.
This is wrong.
This is weird.
Why am I not fighting back?
His fingers dance around my entrance, and in one quick move, he shifts my panties to one side and they glide effortlessly inside causing me to suck a breath in and arch back while my body melts into him. His pace quickens and my blood begins to heat, my skin steaming in the cold water.
My body begins to act on instinct, succumbing to the fire in my belly that’s rising slowly and clouding any rational thoughts. With small but quick moans, my arms wrap around his back tighter, desperate to avoid eye contact while he continues to slide in and out.
The waves of the water allow my hips to sway freely, in sync with every thrust.
My stomach begins to flutter—the fire is beyond control—and is followed by a swirl that builds up and makes my whole body react. I’m sensitive to every touch and movement. Biting down on the tip of his shoulder I lose control, my teeth digging into his skin as the ache mixed with fire ignites on every surface of my skin and barrels through me in one explosive orgasm.
With my eyes closed, I ride the contractions that wrap around his finger and immerse myself in the pleasurable sensations that have overcome me. The rise and fall of my chest evens out, reality setting in as to what I’ve done.
What we have done.
I don’t have any words. I’m speechless. Incoherent.
Basking in an intense orgasm from just one finger.
The finger that belongs to the one man you vowed never to touch. And he vowed never to touch you.
So now what?
“I n-need to g-go,” I stutter nervously, embarrassed and looking for an escape.
“Emmy,” he calls softly, gripping me tightly in his embrace.
Squirming my way out of his grip, I muster every ounce of strength in my body and swim away as fast as I can, desperate to escape what’s just happened.
The water becomes shallow as I stand to run away, but I’m completely soaked with water and one other thing.
Guilt.
Chapter Five
“Reality is a cold hard bitch.”
~ Emerson Chase
Bang. Bang.
Thump. Thump.
The vocals are loud, piercing my eardrums while my eyes stare directly at the ceiling. The sun is peeking through the blinds, reminding me of another beautiful spring day. With summer just around the corner, the air has become warmer removing that morning chill.
It’s unusually warm this morning, my large bed socks becoming overbearingly hot. That, coupled with the constant pain in my head, leaves me frustrated and increasingly hostile.
