10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
D eclan
God.
God.
Why the fuck does she taste this good?
My hands tremble as they hold her in place for more of my kisses. I'd nearly managed to convince myself that I was imagining it, that kissing Emma couldn’t possibly have felt as good as I thought it did.
But then here we are, with her taste slowly driving me mad.
Not to mention the feel of her lush body against mine. My cock is throbbing so hard it’s a second heartbeat. Emma's lips are more responsive, her moans filling my mouth every time we suck at each other's lips, like two lovers drunk on each other.
And then she starts that nearly imperceptible undulation against me, her hips shifting forward on the desk seeking something.
Fulfillment.
Fucking her is out of the question. Even as lost in her kisses as I am, even with my hands currently traveling down around her waist to drag her closer to my cock, I know that I can’t fuck her. The certainty is like a chain, restricting my movements.
But I sure as hell can’t pull myself back for the life of me.
"That’s right," I murmur encouragement as she gets in the right position to rub her pussy against my thigh. Frustrated bliss shoots through me and it's a special kind of torment to feel her heat there. So close, yet so far away.
I can just imagine sinking into that wet heat, that tightness hugging my cock. I can imagine thrusting in again and again, fucking her into the desk as she cries out my name and comes around my cock wantonly declaring her pleasure,
And I imagine that by the time I come too, the top of my head is probably going to blow off.
Of course, I can’t do any of that, even as frustration beats at me. As she continues to move against my thigh, desperate little sounds fall from her lips before they fall away from mine to utter another hollow cry.
The frustration I feel sounds echoed in her voice.
I open my eyes and take her in, her flushed expression, parted lips, stiff shoulders, and the way her body is curled in. She's gripping my shoulders tight enough to leave nail marks, but I don't care. The look of utter concentration and desperation on her features is all I can focus on
She’s close. But she can’t go off yet, not without a little help.
I can’t fuck her, but I can't let her walk out of here on that edge of pleasure that turns into pain.
It’s the last rational thought I have as my hand travels up her thigh squeezing the soft skin at the advent of her wetness. She feels even better than I thought, even better than in my dreams. I trace the edge of the frilly cotton panties and the image of such aching innocence burns in my mind.
God, I should be stoned. Everything tells me that this girl is innocent, and young and might for all purposes be a virgin. She’s certainly too young and innocent for me.
But I’ll be damned if I can make myself give a rat's ass right now.
I’ve spent too much of my life being selfish to fight the urge. I want to feel her around my fingers, and that's what I’m going to do
I brush against her surprisingly bare pussy as I slide along her slick lips coating my fingers in her release. At the same time, I trail my mouth down her neck enjoying every shiver and bitten-out cry. Searching for the delicate little nub, I uncover it and gently strum my fingers over it discovering the angle that makes her jerk and shiver and cry out.
Her responses are all untrained and there’s a surprise on her face that tells me she’s not used to this
And it probably makes me even more of a bastard, but I really like that I’m the one exposing her to such carnal delight.
Emma arcs when I add a little bit more pressure to her clit, failing in her attempt to bite back a moan. It leaves her lips anyway strangled and echoed by a bird's cry.
Her head falls back, exposing more of her neck to my wet suckling kisses. She arches her body into mine and I clearly see the imprint of her nipples through her shirt.
I catch one of them in my mouth sucking her through the fabric and she cries out once in a choked voice that makes me leak.
I allow one finger to thrust inside her.
The taste of her skin and the scent of her cream whips through my brain and body.
She’s unbelievably tight
Unbelievably wet.
God.
"Declan," she chokes out. "I'm close."
I can’t hold back anymore. Something vital in my psyche snaps at the feel of her sucking my finger deeper inside her. I thrust faster and she cries out. I fuse our lips adding another finger, twisting my wrists. I find the little button inside of her and push it.
"Oh God!" She screams and her pussy pulses around my finger. Her entire body draws taut, and she holds me tightly as she comes. I kiss her again wanting to absorb all that energy inside me.
And then suddenly her body collapses back onto the table.
A quick movement prevents her from rolling to the floor as I catch her back up.
"Oh shit," she suddenly exclaims and then looks at me with amazement and some drunken amusement in her eyes
But then the look disappears when she sees the expression on my face.
I can only guess what I look like. A man on the edge, wildness in his eyes, crazed lust on his face and flushed. My skin feels raw and sensitive, my cock screaming to be buried inside her.
I probably look as strung out as I feel.
"You…" she starts but she doesn’t seem able to finish her sentence.
Her mouth simply opens and closes without words coming out.
But when her eyes drop to my lips again, I know I need to get out of here before I lose my mind.
"I need a minute," I bite out before I stalk out slamming the door behind me. The wood rattles, too old to be able to bear that kind of abuse, but I don’t give a shit.
I pace down the grass to the end then realize there’s nothing there to distract me. So I stop and stare at the walls instead. The pale pink gives me an eerie feeling but it's not enough to distract me from the lust in my brain and the internal voice repeatedly chanting fuck her fuck her fuck her .
I feel insane and out of control.
I need to get myself back in check before I can go back inside.
Maybe I can find a place to take care of the aching in my cock
But that would be unsatisfactory, especially with Emma so close by. My cock doesn’t want my own hand. It wants her, wants inside her.
Besides, masturbating in the middle of the business day would be unprofessional.
Not as unprofessional as what you just did to her in there.
Jeez. I need to get a hold of myself. I'm nearly forty. There’s no way a woman her age has me so hungry and desperate.
It’s right there, the voice of reason. I ingest it and take calming breaths through my nose and out through my mouth.
Yes, that was good. What you did in there felt admittedly amazing.
But it’s over and you’re not going to do it again.
I repeat the statement until I'm sure I can stick to it.
Nevertheless, when I get to the door, I hesitate once more. Because despite what I told myself I still desperately want to fuck her.
But you won’t.
I open the door, surprised to find that Emma has her eyes closed. And she also seems to be doing some sort of breathing exercise.
"I can overcome any challenge," she murmurs a few times.
I shut the door behind me, and her eyes fly open.
"Oh." She starts and folds her arms in front of her
I lean back against the wall.
We stare at each other for several minutes. What to do now? Like with the first kiss, do we pretend it never happened?
No, we’re way beyond that at this point.
"That can’t happen again," I say the words dragging against my vocal cords.
Emma nods. "I was about to say the same thing."
"Good thing we're on the same page."
"Yeah, good."
The staring continues before Emma draws in a breath. "Anyway, like I was saying before..." She swallows. "I can’t accept that kind of money from you."
It takes me a second to recall what she's talking about. "Why not?"
"Because we’re not friends or anything. At least let me pay you back on a payment plan. I swear once the restaurant gets back on its feet, you'll have the full amount."
"I don’t want your money," I say, and an idea suddenly occurs to me. "But since you want to be so giving, how about a favor?"
She eyes me warily. "What is it?"
"My daughter. She seems to like you a whole lot and believe it or not, that's not normal for her with strangers. Would you mind babysitting her once or twice a week?"
"Babysitting?"
Yeah. Take her out exploring and stuff within reason. As long as it's safe."
"You trust me to do that?"
I sigh. "Yes. I suppose I have to loosen the reins on her at some point or she’s going to go wild when she’s older." It was exactly what happened to me. For much of my younger life, I was weighed down by the expectations of how to act, being the sole heir to my father's company.
It led to a pretty wild rebellious phase during my teen years.
Amelia's acting out is nothing compared to that, but I suppose she's my karma for everything I put my dad through.
"I trust you to take care of her," I say.
"You do?"
"I do." And to my surprise, I find it’s true.
"But you don't know me."
"Correct." Which is why it’s illogical that I trust her with my most prized possession. "But no one knows this place better than you. You'll keep her safe."
She offers a little smile. "Alright, but that hardly seems like a fair exchange. It's not a chore to hang out with Amelia."
I snort. "Trust me. You've only seen her good side. My daughter can be a real handful when she wants to be. Regardless, do we have a deal?"
She purses her lips doubtfully and then thinks about it. Nearly a full minute passes before she nods. "Deal."