8. Emile
CHAPTER 8
Emile
S he feels like heaven. Her body fits mine perfectly. Like a warm glove wrapped around my dick and clutching me to her.
“Harder,” she sighs. Then I feel her pussy pulse around me and I groan, driving into her so hard that the whole damn cabin shakes with it. Her juices slick onto my velvet pole and I can hear them squelching in the room, smell the scent of our lovemaking hot and heavy all around us.
“Oh fuck, baby girl. This sweet pussy needs a pounding, doesn’t it. It needs me, baby.”
She moans and her legs tighten around my waist as she pushes her hips up into me.
I grab her hips hard, whipping her over without taking my dick out of her slick heat. Then I pound into her, her lush ass jigging in my face until I pause and reach down to bite it hard, leaving my mark on her cheek as she wails, her pussy juices dripping down my cock and down my thighs.
I lift her hips up and drive her up and down my aching cock so hard that I feel her spasming, fluttering wildly as she groans. “No more. I can’t anymore.”
I lean down and pull her head back, my hands tangling in that long red mane. My teeth scrape her throat as I growl, “You can and you will. You want this dick? You better give me what I want and I want another fucking orgasm, baby girl.”
Pulling back as far as I can, I pound into her over and over again, feeling her tighten like a vise.
She pushes her ass back at me and I pull one hand back and spank her pretty, rounded pink ass, leaving my fingerprints on her as she squeals and bucks and then her body spasms again and I groan, pushing deep, my hips thrusting so hard that they stutter when I finally feel the jets of my release rushing out to paint her smooth, fluttering walls.
“Fuck yeah!” Once, twice and yet again, I push inside her, feeling the slickness of our combined releases and not willing to leave her pussy yet.
She collapses and moans and I fall across her limp body, trying not to crush her. I slide to the side and my hand runs up and down her back lightly, tracing the delicate curve of her spine.
I sigh and rest my head on her back. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up.”
She stiffens and refuses to turn towards me. I can feel her drawing inside herself and putting up walls.
“I didn’t use a condom. I’m such an idiot. But if something happens, I promise I’ll take care of you and the baby.”
She stiffens and I watch her reach out to pull at the sheet, pulling it across her body before she turns over to face me. I draw in a breath, not understanding the hurt and shame on her face, but feeling it all the way to the depths of my soul.
I hurt her and it almost breaks me. I can feel the awful howling in my chest breaking free. It’s been under control but something about her makes it break.
I bow my head under the pain of it.
She pushes back against the headboard. Her eyes still won’t meet mine but I see the sparkle of tears and it’s a void of hurt between us that feels inconsolable.
“I can’t have kids, Emile. I’m broken. We-we tried right before he started sleeping with her. He said that this was why he slept with her. He wanted a real woman.”
Those words hurt me so much that it’s like a dagger right through the heart. And what they must have done to her?
“That rat bastard,” I growl, anger ripping into me until I can barely control the urge to hunt his sorry ass down and beat it until he finally feels the pain he foisted on this sweet, soft woman. And I know he did it on purpose.
“Baby, he was a chickenshit and he used that excuse to make up for his own shortcomings. He didn’t want to admit he was a cheating dick so he put it all on you. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t true. You didn’t deserve what he did to you and you never did. And if you don’t have what you need to make a baby? So what? That doesn’t make you less of a woman. That makes you a woman who needs her man to love her and hold her, tell her she’s beautiful and he doesn’t need those things. That’s what he should have said.”
Her eyes lift to mine and I ache at the pain and hope there. Pain and hope that I don’t deserve. I’m no prince. I’m no happily ever after.
I sigh and crawl up onto the bed next to her and cover up with the quilt, drawing her soft curves into me, fighting that bittersweet need to hold onto her and keep her for myself. She deserves more than I have left in me.
I look up at the ceiling and growl, “I was married. A long time ago. She fucked me over but good. She convinced me to quit my job so her boyfriend could get it. Then she fucked him on the side until they saved up almost enough money. Then I found them in bed together when I came home early. I hit the road again as a truck driver and got to my first stop, trying to get gas but she had cleaned out our account, leaving me stuck there and having to call and beg my boss for help.
Her eyes fly up to mine, sparkling with tears, one crystal slithering down her pale cheek. “Oh, Emile. I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “It was a long time ago. It’s over now. But the thing is, I don’t have much left in me to give.”
She pales and draws into herself, wrapping her arms around herself. Her perfect lips open and then I hear a truck driving up. I put my head back and blow out a breath. “That’s George. I let him know that I found you and the road must have cleared enough for him to make it up here.”
She nods her head, her eyes far away. “Right. I guess I’ll get ready.”
I pat her shoulder and smile but it’s more like a grimace. “I’ll tell him to give you a minute. You take your time.”
She nods over to where the dog is chewing on the rag rug on the floor. “What are you going to do about him?”
“I’ll find someone for him. Don’t worry about him. You be safe, Lizzie. I-I…it was nice meeting you.”
She flinches and pulls away. I want to say so much more to her. Like that I think I love her. I think I can’t live without her. The things I feel for her are nothing like I felt for my ex. They’re so much more.
But I keep my mouth shut because I know she can do better. I know there’s a man out there that will love her like she needs and deserves.
She doesn’t say anything and I pull my jeans and shirt on, slipping the leash on the dog and dragging him back outside where he prances around like a damn show pony.
George’s eyes widen. “When did you get a dog?”
“It’s not mine. I found it when I was looking for her.”
“You want me to take it back with me and I’ll try and find it a home?”
I pull the leash back when he tries to grab it. “No. I’ve got him.”
He grins in relief when he sees Lizzie walk out the door, pale and strained but yet composed somehow. She’s such a damn strong woman. She’s gone through so much and made it to the other side.
I shift uneasily. I took advantage of her. I shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t have made love to her. Yet I don’t regret it.
She looks at me and tries to smile but it’s a faint effort at best. Nothing like her usual beaming smile.
“Thank you for finding me, Emile.”
I nod my head. “It was nothing, ma’am.” She flinches again and I feel like the worst bastard on the planet. But I want her happy and she needs to go home to be happy. Needs to find a man who’s not half a man. Who’s worth the love that I see in her. The happiness and joy that I know she can give a man just by being his.
Coldness washes over me as I watch her climb into the SUV, George’s hand clasping hers to help her into the seat and help her get buckled.
She nods at him when he climbs inside and says something to her. She looks out the window and refuses to look at me and it feels like every bit of my bruised and dented heart is breaking into pieces and falling at her feet.
I suck in a breath when she seems to feel something and she glances at me, her golden gaze soft and hurt. But so damn calm. Controlled.
Then the car turns and I can’t see her anymore. The dog whines at my feet and I look down at it.
“It’s not my fault. I had to make her go. She needs to find a man who isn’t a mess. Who can love her the way she deserves. I’m not that man.”
But the way my heart pounds in my chest says something different. I can’t breathe. It feels like my heart is pounding out of my chest and my lungs can’t fill with air. My head pounds and I feel lightheaded, rage filling me when I think about George or any other man getting their hands on her.
She’s mine. She’s been mine since I first saw her, wet and bedraggled, yet so sassy.
I took that sass. I hurt her and that makes me no better than that bastard.
The dog whines and puts his paw on my pants leg, staring at me.
“You’re right. I love her. I love her more than any other man will ever love her. I’ve got to get to her,” I gasp, racing to my truck.
The dog jumps up to the seat and wags his tail, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“Buckle up! We’re gonna get her back.”
He barks and I laugh. “I love her. I’m an idiot.” And the damn dog actually smiles like he knows it but he forgives me anyway.