Chapter 102: In a Possessive Embrace

Emily couldn't find the words anymore. Ethan’s dominance had always been her weakness, and right now, amidst the threats closing in on them, his intensity felt like the only place she could escape to.

"Please, do it ..." Emily exhaled hoarsely, her fingers tightening their grip on Ethan’s expensive shirt until it was a wrinkled mess.

"Say it more clearly, sweetheart," Ethan murmured against the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of vanilla and rose radiating from her skin. His hand began to slip beneath her dress, sliding along the smooth skin of her thigh, leaving a trail of searing heat in its wake.

"Please, Ethan ... I want you. Now."

That answer was the trigger that shattered the last of Ethan’s self control. He crashed his lips onto hers again, wilder and more demanding this time. The desk, usually covered in multi million dollar contracts, became a silent witness to an explosion of passion. Ethan swept away a stack of papers with one impatient motion, clearing a space for Emily to lie back on the hard, cold wooden surface.

The contrast between the cold table and the heat of Ethan’s skin made Emily arch her body. Ethan tore at his shirt buttons with a rough motion, revealing a broad chest that rose and fell with his heavy breathing. When he pulled her back into his embrace, the skin-to-skin contact felt like an electric shock.

“Ahhh, do it. I want it,” Emily rasped.

Ethan wasted no time. With precise and forceful movements, he stripped away the final barrier between them. Emily gasped loudly as she felt Ethan’s tensed hardness press against her.

"You’re mine, Emily. Forever," Ethan whispered right before he thrust into her, joining them in one deep motion that made Emily toss her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she felt herself completely filled.

The rhythm that followed was a blend of fury, protection, and possessive love. Every one of Ethan’s thrusts seemed to assert that no one not Othega, nor any other man could touch what belonged to him. Emily met every movement with her legs wrapped tightly around Ethan’s waist, pulling him closer, as if trying to merge into one.

Under the dim lights of the study, their shadows danced on the wall. The sound of ragged breathing, Ethan’s low groans, and Emily’s moans filled the room, drowning out the ticking clock that had felt so threatening before. Ethan kissed every inch of Emily’s skin, leaving crimson marks on her shoulders and neck as undeniable symbols of ownership.

“Ouchhh ... Emily, you’re driving me crazy.”

The climax hit like a storm. Emily felt a wave of overwhelming pleasure crash over her, making her entire body tremble violently. Ethan followed shortly after, groaning loudly as he poured all his passion and his burdens into her, holding her as tightly as possible as if fearing she might vanish.

A few minutes passed in peaceful silence. They were still breathless, tangled together on the messy desk. Ethan kissed Emily’s forehead repeatedly, his eyes now softened, losing the bloodthirsty glint that had dominated them earlier.

"I love you," Ethan whispered, his voice heavy again but full of affection.

Emily smiled weakly, resting her head on Ethan’s sweaty shoulder. "I hate you, Ethan.”

Ethan laughed triumphantly.

“Oh damn, this hurts so much! Can we move to the bedroom? My back is starting to feel stiff from this table."

Ethan chuckled softly, a sound rarely heard but incredibly sweet to Emily’s ears. However, just as Ethan was about to lift Emily to fix their clothes, a small voice drifted from behind the thick teak door.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Both of them froze. Ethan reflexively grabbed his blazer from the floor to cover Emily’s naked body on the desk.

"Good Uncle? Mommy? Are you in there?"

Louei’s tiny voice broke the post storm silence. Emily’s eyes went wide, her face already flushed from passion now turning beet red with embarrassment. She frantically tried to find her underwear, which had been tossed who knows where.

"Don't move," Ethan whispered commandingly, though he was stifling a laugh. He quickly pulled on his trousers and straightened his unbuttoned shirt.

"Good Uncle? Louei is scared ... there’s a ghost sound inside," the little call came again, this time followed by a small sob.

Ethan rubbed his face, trying to neutralize his voice so he wouldn't sound out of breath. "Louei, champ ... Uncle is ... is having an important meeting with Mommy. Just a second, okay?"

"What meeting?" Louei asked innocently from behind the door. "Why did Mommy scream like she was in pain? Did the ghost bite Mommy?"

Emily buried her face in the cushion of Ethan’s office chair which she had managed to reach, not daring to make a sound. She wanted to vanish from the face of the earth right then and there.

Ethan cleared his throat loudly, trying to maintain his dignity as a feared business tycoon. "No, honey. Mommy was just ... exercising. Yes, night exercise to stay healthy. Wait in your room, Uncle will bring you chocolate milk in a moment."

"Exercise on the table?" Louei muttered softly, though it was still audible. "But Louei wants milk now ..."

Ethan glanced at Emily, who had now managed to get her dress back on, though her hair looked like it had been hit by a category five hurricane. Ethan signaled for Emily to hide behind the large desk while he cracked the door open a bit.

Ethan opened the door only a few inches, looking down at his son who stood there in dinosaur pajamas, clutching a teddy bear.

"Good Uncle, why is your face sweaty? Was the exercise really hard?" Louei looked at Ethan with pure curiosity.

Ethan knelt down, trying to block Louei’s view of the room cluttered with papers scattered on the floor. "Very hard, Louei. Very ... exhausting. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen."

"Where’s Mommy?" Louei tried to peek inside.

"Mommy is ... cooling down. She has to stay still so she doesn't get injured," Ethan answered randomly, picking Louei up and carrying him away from the study.

From behind the desk, Emily could only close her eyes, cursing her luck. She heard Ethan’s voice fading into the distance, trying to explain "night exercise" in the study to their five-year-old son.

"Crazy man," Emily muttered as she tried to comb her hair with her fingers, though a smile wouldn't leave her lips.