Enraptured
Romain
She pauses only a few inches away from me, and that's when I see it.
The faint bruise on her cheek.
"What happened?" I ask again, this time with more urgency. I grab her arms gently and pull her toward me while my eyes are trained on her face. "Who did this to you? Was it Soren?"
"Don't mind it," she says. "It's nothing."
Her response angers me, and my voice is an octave higher when I say, "This isn't nothing, Emmalee. Someone hurt you. Who was it?"
"It doesn't matter," she replies firmly. Tears start trailing down her cheeks, and she places her warm hands on either side of my face. "What matters is that nobody is going to tear us apart. I won't let it happen, Romain. I don't care what the consequences are."
Before I can say anything else, she presses her lips to mine, and all my thoughts just flee my mind. My heart begins thundering in my chest, and my hands move from her arms to the dips of her waist. The kiss is slow and superficial, but I can feel the part of me that's hungry and desperate for more surfacing. I press her flush against me, and her fingers move to my neck, where they interlace at the nape of my neck.
I don't know how much time passes. With her, it's so easy to lose track of it. All I know is that I want her here with me, and I'm beyond grateful that my wish has been granted.
Emmalee breaks the kiss to say, "Bed," against my lips, and words can't describe how that affects me.
We move toward the bed, and then she falls upon it while her eyes are on me, glazed with lust. Dangerous. This is so damn dangerous, because I've imagined this moment for years, ever since I got my first erection at the sight of her in her bathing suit near the pond, and now she's here, on my bed.
Wanting me. Kissing me back.
I move so I'm hovering above her. We're lying across the bed, and her feet are stretched past the edge of the bed. I'm straining against my pants, and I've never wanted to take her more than I do now.
Emmalee's hands are on my chest, and she asks me, "How's your back?"
"Fine," I say dismissively.
She kisses me gently, and then parts her legs and wraps them around my hips, pulling me flush against her. She groans, and the sound makes me even harder. My tongue slips past her lips, and she sucks on it gently. Shivers race down my spine and settle in my groin, and before I know it, we're moving together me and her, and this feels better than all the times I've come in my shower or even in the sink while thinking about her.
I think I'm going to come again. Right in my pants.
Small moans leave her lips. I swallow them all while my tongue dances in her mouth, gliding over hers again and again while she arches her back and moves along my cock. She quickens the pace, growing more and more frantic, and I'm holding on for dear life.
Is this really happening? Is she really writhing beneath me, on the verge of making me come?
"Romain," she pants, eyes lit. "Touch me."
"Where?" I ask distractedly.
She grabs my hand, which is right next to her head, and guides it to the space between our bodies. My mouth goes dry when she settles it right between her legs and over her cotton panties. "Here."
She guides my fingers so they're moving up and down, up and down. Right over her crotch. She's so warm down there, and a part of her panties are soaked through. I don't know how much more I can take.
"Faster," she begs. "Move your fingers faster."
I obey her commands, and move my fingers faster, up and down, up and down. I watch her face, completely enraptured by how she's reacting to my touch. I've wanted to do this for a long time, as soon as I began to understand what intimacy was, and what it was that people who loved each other did behind closed doors. This is the part of my daydreams that I never imagined, though, not clearly. She wraps a hand around my wrist, her eyes still closed. I keep moving my fingers, inching closer to her to kiss the exposed parts of her skin.
"Romain," she moans. "Goddess, yes. Don't stop. That feels so...oh!"
And then her back arches off the bed and she moans loudly.
I come in my pants. The sight of her orgasming was too much for me to handle.
I never stood a damn chance.