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Yeah, I don’t want to risk that.
Plus, with Hudson out in the world, Emma is still in danger, and someone needs to put a stop to him.
I press Emma up against the soaking white tiles, slamming into her over and over again, trying not to slip and cause an injury here.
I keep alternating between tightening my grip on her throat and leaning into kiss her softly.
I don’t know if I need this to be romantic or rough as fuck.
My head is all over the place.
I knew me and Emma couldn’t last forever, but I also don’t want to lose her like this.
“Fuck, Owen, that feels good,” Emma cries out as the water cascades down her body. “Grab my nipples. I need you to tease me.”
I clamp her nipples between my fingers, twisting and turning until she’s purring.
My little pussy cat.
The one woman who’s my match, the only person who can play me at my own game.
I grip tighter, not wanting to let her slip through my fingers, but I already know it’s going to happen.
There’s nothing we can do about it.
Emma jumps up and wraps her legs around me once she can’t hold herself up any longer. The pleasure is ricocheting through her, vibrating.
This tight little pussy of hers that I want to keep as my own, I have to give away. I have to sacrifice.
Life was different before.
Love was different before.
I haven’t ever felt this way about anyone. Not even Justine.
She was my wife, but it feels like Emma is my soul.
I know Emma didn’t say anything when I confessed my love, but she didn’t need to say it with words. I could feel it emanating off of her. She’s just too afraid to let herself really feel anything. I understand that, especially after everything we’ve been through.
Thank God neither of us can hold the pleasure in any longer. It’s so much easier to switch my brain off when I’m overcome with sensations. The burning hot bliss tearing right through me—ripping me to shreds—is so much simpler than worrying about what’s next.
Because nothing that comes next can be good for me.
“You know everythingwillbe okay,” Emma tries her hardest to reassure me as we climb out the shower to grab towels to dry off. But it’s pointless… I don’t see my mind ever changing. “Iswear to you, this will work out, and my dad will be cool. There’s a reason he’s come to America and it’s because he wants to make sure that I’m safe and happy. He will listen this time, especially because you will be with me…”
While she continues talking, I feel my brain switching off.
My walls are going back up.
I can’t stop distancing myself. This has been happening a lot ever since Justine died. Much as I don’t want it to happen right now, it’s too late.
There won’t be space for me in Emma’s life as soon as her father comes back into her life. I don’t think Emma can see that, but I sure as hell can.
My phone pings.
Samantha.
She’s given me just what I need, which is good. She’s great for shit like that, but I can’t focus on it at the moment. Not when I have other things to worry about.
