Chapter 25 - Stella
TWENTY-FIVE
STELLA
“And that is how you bake a pie,” I announce to absolutely nobody, pulling my creation from the oven and setting it onto the cooling rack.
It smells heavenly, the warm, gooey apple mixture peeking out from underneath the woven lattice crust. It was always Emmett’s favorite dessert, so I’m hoping that pairing it with the shrimp linguine that’s currently simmering on the stovetop will be enough to convince him to stay the night again.
Turning back to the pan, I stir the noodles, making sure the sauce and shrimp are mixed to perfection. I hardly ever cook big meals like this for myself, but I’ll admit that it’s kind of nice. It feels domestic, now that I have another person to feed.
Satisfied with the way everything came out, I turn off the burner, covering the food in an attempt to keep it warm while I set the table.
But just as I go to reach for the plates sitting on the top shelf of the cupboard, a strong set of hands grips my waist. At first, I startle, my body going completely rigid until the familiar scent of Emmett’s spicy cologne hits my nostrils.
“Hi,” I say softly, attempting to turn my head to get a better look at him, but he doesn’t allow it.
Instead, he bends me over and shoves my face into the cool marble counter in front of me.
The force causes all the breath to whoosh from my lungs, immediately getting sucked right back in when his fingers sink into the waistband of my leggings before roughly yanking them down past my ass.
My panties are next to go, the moisture that’s gathered between my legs within the last twenty seconds making them stick to my skin in the process.
“Wet already, Wild Girl?” he drawls, dragging a finger up my slit.
I moan at the contact, pushing back into him for more friction, but he pulls away, landing a firm spank against my cheek.
“This isn’t for you, Stell. Remember? I get to do whatever I want.
And right now, I want to blow my load into this soaking cunt and watch you squirm all through dinner while it drips onto your chair.
” I jump when the head of his cock presses to my entrance, followed by him slamming into me in one long stroke.
“Oh, God!” I moan, my fingers curling around the edge of the countertop for purchase as he fucks me.
The stretch is uncomfortable, but I love knowing that I’m taking every inch of him.
I searched for years, looking for a toy that could rival his length, girth, and the delicious curve that hits the deepest spots inside me, but never found it.
My body was made for Emmett Hayes, and Emmett Hayes only.
He picks up speed, his fingertips digging deep divots into the flesh that covers my hips.
My entire body is on fire, electricity crackling from the tips of my toes, swirling upward, and gathering in my core as my orgasm barrels toward me.
I feel like I could shatter at any moment, falling apart on his cock like I could only fantasize about until earlier this week. Now, I can’t get enough.
“Your sweet little pussy is fluttering, baby,” he taunts. “You know you’re not allowed to come without my permission, right?”
Goddammit. I do know that. It was one of our rules before.
He had complete control over everything—orgasms included.
If I wanted one, I had to ask. And if he thought I needed more, he’d overstimulate me until he was satisfied.
One night, I went to bed aching, only to wake up with his head between my legs hours later.
He ate me until I begged for mercy, my clit swollen and numb from being rubbed and sucked until the sun came up.
It was equal amounts torturous and exhilarating, just like it is right now.
“Answer me, Stella. Tell me you understand that you’re not coming until I say it’s okay.
” His voice is tight as it passes through gritted teeth, telling me that he’s just as close to falling over the edge as I am.
So, I act fast, knowing that if I don’t, I’m not going to have a very good time at the dinner table.
“Yes,” I rush out, nodding frantically against the counter.
His hand is still pushed to the back of my head, fist balled into my hair to hold me still.
A dull throb radiates down my neck and back from the position, but still, I’m more turned on than ever as my clit throbs a steady cadence between my thighs.
“Please, Em. Can I come? Please?” I beg.
I don’t know how much longer I can hold off with the way his balls are slapping against my sensitive bundle of nerves, propelling me closer to the precipice with each thrust. But I’m suspended in mid-air, unable to reach out and touch the orgasm that’s dangling in front of me because I haven’t been granted permission to do so.
“Please,” I plead again, but he just pounds into me without a word—one, two, three more times—stilling as his thick, hot load pulses against my walls. My release slowly floats away, and I cry out, my body melting onto the counter in defeat.
Making sure there isn’t a drop left, Emmett buries himself one last time before pulling out. I can feel his cum dripping onto the floor as he curls himself over my back, his warm, minty breath ghosting over the shell of my ear.
“No, you can’t come,” he whispers darkly. “But that’s a good girl for asking. Now, let’s eat.”
Fuck.
Thirty minutes later, after a very uncomfortable meal that was spent squirming in my seat, Emmett loads the dishwasher as I tidy up the kitchen.
The raging throb between my legs has subsided a bit, although I’m still as worked up as ever.
Every time he leans down to place a dish on the bottom rack, his shirt rides up, giving me a small peek at the firm, tan muscles of his lower back.
I’m fighting for my life, thighs practically glued together in an attempt to stop my inner walls from clenching and making more of a mess.
My panties and leggings are soaked through with a mixture of his release and my desperation, something I become more and more aware of with every step I take.
It may not be a pleasant sensation, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t turning me on.
He finishes up, spinning to where I’m wiping down the table.
Resting a hip against the counter, he crosses his arms over his wide chest, a sexy smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Thank you for dinner. It was fantastic. It’s been a long time since I had a home-cooked meal. You know I was always shit at it.”
I giggle under my breath, remembering all the times he tried, but ended up burning things to a crisp or adding way too much salt. “Your mom doesn’t cook for you anymore?” I ask. I know he’s busy with football, but I figured his parents would at least come to visit every now and then.
He clears his throat, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.
“I don’t talk to her anymore. My dad, either.
” My eyes go wide with shock. They were always one of those families that looked like they’d stepped right off a billboard.
Mr. and Mrs. Hayes made sure Emmett had everything he needed to succeed growing up, pushing him hard toward his dream of being in the NFL.
It wasn’t until we got serious that they started slowly offering less and less support.
It was hard for me to watch, knowing that if I weren’t in the picture, their relationship wouldn’t have been strained.
But he swore it would be okay, and that he wasn’t letting me go just because they thought I had ill intentions.
“Why?” I question.
He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, letting it drop as he exhales a harsh breath.
“They never really cared about my happiness. Their only concern was what we looked like from the outside. That was never clearer to me than the day I returned home, broken and defeated, telling them that you had left me. I wanted their help. Advice. Literally anything to make the pain go away. I was grieving a loss, and all they could do was celebrate the fact that they were right about us all along.”
My heart cracks in my chest, stomach twisting with emotion. I’ll never truly forgive myself for all the heartbreak I caused, but knowing it was the catalyst for him to sever ties with his mom and dad makes it a million times worse.
I walk over, wrapping my arms around him and reveling in the warm press of his body against mine.
He kisses the top of my head, rubbing his hands up and down my back as I fight the tears that prick behind my eyes.
I hate that one stupid choice caused a ripple effect, leaving so much damage in its wake.
They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, which couldn’t be truer than it is here, but the reality is that the past is gone.
All we have is today, and I’m bound and determined to show this man that I’m ready to be everything he needs.