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Before I allow myself to fall down the rabbit hole of what could have happened, I thrust two fingers into her tight pussy and the concern clouding her features is replaced with pure ecstasy. I push into her slowly to begin with, sliding my digits over her G-spot over and over again as I watch her like a hawk.
Her pussy clamps down on my fingers so tight I still worry my cock won’t fit inside her, but I’ll make it. I can’t go another night without knowing what her hot little cunt feels like wrapped around me. Every night since the day we met, I’ve laid in this very bed and stroked myself thinking about the day I finally had her in this exact position. I’ve called her name during my release so many times she would be horrified if she knew. But let’s just add that to the list of things Emerson would run a mile if she knew.
She moans and pushes her head back into the pillow, fisting the sheets to ground herself. It’s the most free I’ve ever seen her look, and fuck if it’s not the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Emerson worries too much, and that’s going to stop. I don’t want my woman stressed, not when I can take the worry away so easily.
“Are you going to run from me again, sweet girl?” I ask as I start lapping lazily at her clit with the same rhythm as my fingers stroke the sensitive spot inside her.
She thrashes her head from side to side. “No, I won’t run.”
“See, I really want to believe you.” I increase the pace of both my fingers and tongue before continuing. “I want to believe that you’re going to be a good girl for me, but every time I let you out of my sight you start over thinking, over analyzing everything. And then you start to pull away from me. Do you see my problem?”
“Rayne,” Emerson breathes, it’s almost a plea, but she knows begging isn’t going to help her.
“It’s one of the things that drew me to you when we first met, you know? That brain of yours blows me away. Always wanting to help everyone else, putting yourself last. The fact that you’re so desperate to avoid anyone else worrying about you, you haven’t told your dad that Brad cleaned you out. You think he has enough to worry about because of the Center, isn’t that right?”
Emerson’s eyes widen as I speak, my fingers slowly driving her to the edge I won’t allow her to tip over. “Yes.”
“And the kids, you won’t ever let them down. I’ve seen it every day since we met. You get to the Center before anyone else even though you’ve worked late, or you’ve stayed up all night doing assignments, but you never miss a day.”
Her hips shift and I can’t tell whether she’s trying to push herself further onto my fingers, or if she’s trying to pull away, but regardless she’s staying exactly where she is.
“Despite everything you do for other people, for your dad, for those kids, you won’t take anything for yourself. Or at least your mind doesn’t want you to. That’s why you pull away from me so often, why you try to convince yourself that I don’t mean the words I say to you. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”
Her cunt is so tight around my fingers I can barely move them as she pants, her entire body tight with the need to come. But she won’t. The look of determination that crosses her face every time she reaches the edge tells me she won’t allow herself to fall. Such a good girl for me. “That’s not true,” she whispers.
“Oh but it is, Emerson. You’ll try to tell me, and likely yourself, that the reason you pull away is because I’m dangerous, but that’s not true because I’m not a danger to you. In fact, you’ve never been safer than when you’re with me.”
Tears gather at the brim of her eyes. Tears of frustration. Tears of truth. Tears of need. I haven’t held her on the edge for nearly long enough, but my patience is wearing down. If she cries while I’m fucking her with my fingers, I’m going to sink right into her. Her tears of pleasure are fucking addictive, and I’m not going to be able to hold myself back if they fall.
“Who do you belong to, Emerson?” I use my thumb to rub small, brutal circles into her clit as my fingers pick up pace and pressure.
“I can’t.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “Rayne, I’m too close, I can’t hold it.”
“You can hold it, sweet girl. Just a while longer. Who do you belong to, Emerson?”
There’s a war behind her pretty green eyes, she doesn’t want to admit she belongs to me, but she’s not coming until she does so she better get with the program if she wants to come at all in the next month.
“Who. Do. You. Belong. To?” I demand through clenched teeth, pushing her higher until I’m sure she’s going to break underneath my touch.
Defiance flames in her eyes, at least that’s what she wants me to see. Behind it is something else, something precious and beautiful and she’s fighting a losing battle to keep it hidden. Her submission. Her trust. Herself.
“Emerson,” I growl.
The tears she’s been holding back fall against her cheeks and I know I’ve broken her down, but she’s not broken. She’s about to feel more free than she’s ever felt in her life, just as free as I’ve felt since I claimed her.
27
Emerson
“You.” The word slips from my lips between brutal sobs. “I belong to you.” It feels so good to let the words out, the ones we’ve both known but I refused to say out loud. It feels like I’ve been lying to myself, like I’ve been lying to us both.
Rayne looks at me with such adoration, like my words were exactly what he wanted to hear, and I know they are. I’ve been fighting it from the beginning, but I wasn’t fooling him, only myself. I’m his, and the only person that wasn’t sure of that was me. “I know you are, sweet girl.” He leans over me, his lips brushing across my lips so softly I barely feel them as his fingers continue their assault on my G-spot.
Tears stream down my cheeks and I don’t even know what I’m crying about anymore. To begin with, I thought it was frustration, the need for a release that kept being torn away from me at the last moment. But it’s more than that. It’s letting go of my complete independence, it’s the way I feel about the terrifying man who is so gentle with me, it’s the idea that I could have been with Russo right now instead of in the arms of the man I…
I can’t bring myself to think the word. It’s too heavy, too much, and too frightening to think. I don’t think Rayne is capable of that emotion, and I’ve often wondered if I am either. I’ve never loved anyone but my dad. Even when my mom was around I didn’t have the same connection with her I did him, and when I was young I often wondered if I was the reason she left. Because I wasn’t the perfect daughter she wanted me to be.
I’ve never loved a boyfriend, never even allowed friends to get close enough to use that word. But the way my heart beats faster every time Rayne walks into a room, the way I hang on his every word, and how I so willingly give up my independence to a man who should scare me, it makes me think it’s more than just like or lust with Rayne.
