36. Fiery Passion
Fiery Passion
thirty-six
S e v e n
While Kane and Emerson were off doing their own thing, me, Ace, and Stone spent the day trying to get Eli to calm the fuck down. Dealing with his stubborn ass was hard enough, but add in the fact that he'd been drinking vodka like it was water since he got out of bed, and it made it even harder.
Emerson had returned home after being missing for three days, not wanting to talk about where she had been or what had happened. And fuck, it bothered her brother more than we thought it would.
We had all agreed to keep the knowledge of Damon's abuse and murder to ourselves until Emerson was ready to open up to us about it. But for Eli, it was absolute torture. He wanted to be there for his baby sister. He wanted to fix her and take all her pain away, but felt completely powerless when she made it clear that she didn't want to talk about it and that she didn't want help from anyone.
We knew that she'd eventually come to us and trust us with her deepest, darkest secret, so we didn't push. But Eli wasn't having it, and because of her silence, he drowned his emotions with liquor... which was the worst thing he could've fucking done. He was getting aggressive, starting fights with anyone who looked at him the wrong way. Ace and I tried our best to keep him in line, but it was a losing battle. We had to come together and support him, just like we knew we would eventually need to do for Emerson. But first, we had to get Eli to understand that drowning his sorrows in alcohol wasn't the answer.
But shit, he wasn't willing to listen to any of us, so we didn't push him.
Waiting for Emerson to get back, I rolled a blunt and sprinkled it with little crumbs of coke to hype up the somber mood of everyone in the house, and then took it down to the beach, where I posted up around a roaring fire. Ace and Stone stayed inside, taking turns watching over Eli to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.
As I relaxed by the fire alone, I twirled the blunt in my fingers, anxious to light it, but I was trying to wait for Em before I did.
When I heard the rumble of her bike, I stared hard at the back of the house, just waiting to see her pull down the driveway with Kane. However, I was shocked to see that it was just Emerson, who bolted off her fucking bike as if it were on fire and then ran straight into the house. Kane wasn't anywhere in sight.
Okay then...
I got up from my seat and walked back to the house, curiosity filling the voids in my mind. Just as I reached the steps to climb the back porch, Kane rode in on his bike, looking rough as shit as he pulled off his helmet and whipped it to the pavement with all of his strength.
Kane wasn't one to mess with when he was fucking angry. I'd seen him almost beat a motherfucker to death, all because earlier that night the Patriots had lost to the Cowboys; poor bastard accidentally bumped into Kane in the bar, and he pummeled him until he broke his fucking wrist… then he resorted to kicking. I didn't want to be on the receiving end of Kane's diabolical wrath—none of us did.
"Uh oh," I began, walking towards him with extreme caution as he made his way to the back door of the garage. "What happened out there?"
"I ruined her fucking night by accident, and now I think she's spiraling even worse, and much quicker than we anticipated." He shakes his head, clearly pissed at himself, and barges in the back door.
I follow him, needing to know more before I try approaching Emerson. He grabs a Bud Light from the fridge, twists off the cap, and collapses onto the couch, sucking down the icy-cold brew without stopping for air.
Grabbing myself a beer, I sink into the cushion beside him. "What did you do?"
He looks at me and shakes his head, muttering, "I accidentally broke her necklace."
My jaw drops, and a pained sigh leaves my throat as I turn to him to explain why she freaked the fuck out. "Her father gave her that the day he let her join the club."
"Fuck me," he huffs, hanging his head in shame.
"It'll be alright, trust me. She just needs some time, Kane," I assure him, trying to make the guilt building inside of him easier to deal with. "We'll fix it."
Looking blankly across the garage, he remains silent, clearly needing some time to sort through the shit in his head. I stand up and give him a friendly pat on the back of his shoulder, but he doesn't even acknowledge it.
"I'm going to check on her, but if you want to talk later, then I'm all ears, brother."
He nods and motions me away, wanting to be alone for now.
I quietly made my way to Emerson's room, bracing myself for the storm that was sure to come. When I found her, she was sitting on her bed, clutching the broken necklace in her hand. Her eyes were red and puffy, and I could see the pain etched into her face. Due to her tears, I was able to see the bruises on her face from where her makeup had washed off, and it fucking enraged me. It took everything in me not to fucking say something to her, but somehow I managed to push it to the back of my mind with a mental note to bring it up at a later time. Instead, I sat down beside her and wrapped my arm around her, trying my best to offer some comfort, which had always worked for me before.
Emerson and I had a special bond, one unlike any of the others she had with the guys. It gave me hope that I'd be able to pull her out of her funk, soothe her sadness, and finally put a fucking smile back on her beautiful face.
"It's okay, Em. We'll fix it. I promise," I said softly, staring at the pearls clutched protectively in her shaky hand.
She didn't say anything, just continued to stare at the broken necklace for a while as we sat closely, silence looming over us. And then finally, she got off the bed and went to her dresser for her bottle of Xanax, pouring a few into the palm of her hand. Washing them down with my beer that she snatched out of my hand, a smile finally crept across her lips as her eyes landed on the blunt tucked behind my ear, and her mood switched just like that.
"Have you been waiting for me to smoke that?" She grins, her dimples popping, defining her already perfect cheeks.
"Indeed, I have." I match her grin and remove the blunt, pulling my zippo out of my pocket to light it.
"Not here," she states, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. Then she grabs a bottle of liquor off her nightstand and drags me out of her room and down the stairs, leading me straight out the open back doors that take us to the beach.
She sits on my lap when I take my seat around the fire, making herself comfortable as I spark the blunt and take the first rip, feeling the cocaine numb my lips immediately.
"It's got coke on it," I advise her, making sure she knows ahead of time what she's getting into.
"Perfect." She nods, her blue eyes sparkling from the lingering tears coating them.
With a deep inhale, she holds the blunt in her fingers and breathes out a cloud of smoke, her eyes twinkling like the stars in the sky, dancing around the moon. I can feel the weight lifting from her shoulders as we pass the blunt back and forth and drink from the bottle, and I can't help but smile as she visibly begins to relax.
The darkness that had been clouding the house seemed to dissipate as Emerson and I sat there together, watching the flames happily dance in front of us, reminding us what it felt like to not have a single fucking care in the world. I held her close and so fucking tight, afraid to release her, my breath sweetly kissing her skin as my lips ghosted across the side of her neck.
I fucking loved being with her; it didn't matter where we were. There was always something about Emerson that captivated me, and I was determined to hold onto the feeling.
As I began to sensually pepper her neck with kisses, she sighed deeply and leaned into my touch.
"Seven," she moaned quietly, her eyes big and dark from the drugs and alcohol streaming through her veins.
"What is it, Princess?" I held onto her hip and gently rocked her back and forth on my lap, feeling my cock grow under her ass.
She leaned her head back and rested it on my shoulder, swiftly rocking against my cock on her own. It was almost as if she was silently giving me a fucking sign or something. Like she wanted to fuck, but without all the talking.
That was the thing about the two of us; I always knew what she wanted—what she needed—and she trusted me to give it to her. Her guard was never up with me, like it was with some of the other guys, and for that, it brought us closer, especially in desperate times of need.
After a few, quiet moans and a full-body shiver that hit her randomly, she says, "I need to come, Seven." She rolls her hips and pushes her ass even harder against my cock. "Kane didn't let me."
I brush her hair to one shoulder and lick a teasing line across the side of her neck. "Is my princess needy?" I ask, reaching my hand between her thighs and rubbing her pussy over her pants.
"Fuck... very," she pants, tightly gripping the side of my thigh while frantically grinding against me, desperately trying to chase the intense friction from my fingers as they continue to tease her. "Make me come, Seven," she demands in a fiery tone that lets me know she isn't fucking around. “Please, make me come—make me feel so fucking good that I forget about all the bullshit I'm struggling with.”
“For you, my Princess, I'll fucking do anything.” Sliding my hand up to her waist, I unbutton her pants and pull them open, just enough to push my hand down them and cup her needy, soaked cunt. “I'll make you feel so fucking good that you'll forget your name, not just the bullshit. This pussy…” I growl. “Is. Fucking. Mine, Emerson, and I know exactly how to make her drip for me—how to make her fucking come for me—and, Em, you fucking know I ain't lying either,” I hiss through gritted teeth, my palm rubbing her soaked cunt.
Emerson spreads her legs, inviting me in as my eager fingers skate down her bare pussy until they slip between her lips.
"You're fucking drenched, Princess; ain't that right?” She nods, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, desperately wanting—needing—so much fucking more.
“So fucking needy and desperate for my fingers," I tell her, knowing I'm right.
“Yes, Seven… Yes, I'm so fucking needy for you.” She trembles, her voice cracking, trying to catch her breath just from my filthy words alone.
I nip at her earlobe and roughly sink my teeth into it, making her tremble as I dip my fingers into her cunt.
She melts into me as my fingers work their magic, thrusting deeply in a corkscrew-like motion, gliding sensually against her slippery pussy walls.
"Harder, Seven," she pleads, her breath heavy and ragged while her chest heaves deeply.
I oblige, feeling her body quiver with pleasure. The flames from the fire reflect in her dark eyes, and I watch as they dilate with desire.
It was wrong; I knew that, but there was something addicting about her that made me lose all control. And at that moment, I didn't fucking care.
All I wanted was to see her come apart in my fucking arms. And with each long, deep thrust of my fingers, she was getting closer and closer to that edge… because of me.
"I killed him," she blurts out, only realizing what she had said after it had involuntarily slipped from her mouth.
She tries to get off my lap—to run away, of course—but I hold her down and keep fucking her with my fingers, knowing it'll distract her from wanting to bolt.
"Seven," she moans, but there's a hidden tone in her voice that I can tell she's trying to mask.
She didn't want to open up, but shit, for me, I knew she would.
Instead of letting her run and just forgetting what she said, I force her to stay, using my fingers to take her mind to a different place.
"I know, Princess," I whisper, feeling her pussy clamp around my fingers as I drive them even deeper, her arousal squishing around like music to my fucking ears as she gets even wetter. "And it's okay."
"I... I..." she stutters, unable to find the right words for what she wants to say, mainly due to the pleasure clouding her mind.
So I help her out, knowing just how to get her to talk freely. "Tell me again," I whispered, adding a third digit into her soaked pussy, feeling her back immediately lift off of my chest as she started to ride my fingers like she was riding my cock.
But she didn't say anything, which prompted me to keep pushing, knowing that I could get her to break.
"Emerson, fucking say that shit again for me, or you won't be coming on my fingers either," I threatened, knowing how fucking close she was to breaking her silence just from the way her body was reacting to my touch.
"Sev... ah," she moaned into my ear, her head still resting against my shoulder as my soaked fingers slid in and out of her cunt knuckle deep, purposely driving her to the brink.
"What did you do, Princess?" Using the pad of my thumb, I press down on her sensitive clit and roll circles over it, watching intense spasms rock her tiny body.
When she doesn't answer, I stop thrusting and rubbing, letting her know that I'm serious about not letting her come. In a desire-filled panic, she reaches between her legs and pushes my fingers back inside of her, holding her hand against mine to keep them right where she wanted them the most.
"Don't stop," she begs in a sexy moan that makes my cock twitch under her ass.
"Then fucking tell me again what you did," I growl, sinking my teeth into the side of her neck.
"I killed him!" she screams, watching the flames and riding my fingers desperately until I slowly start moving them again. "I killed Damon," she finally admits, going limp against my body, her pussy walls constricting around my quickly moving fingers.
I finger-fuck her needy cunt faster, harder, and deeper, ripping seductive moans from her dry throat that echo in my ears. "Good girl, Emerson."
As she reaches her peak, her moans turn into high-pitched cries, and I hold her close, relishing in the sound of the pleasure ripping from her throat.
She shook frantically, riding my fingers as I drilled them relentlessly into her until her pussy gushed all over my fingers and hand. She came hard, clinging to me to the point where it was becoming painful as her nails dug into my flesh and broke through. But I kept going, fucking her with my fingers through her entire orgasm, wet, squishy noises singing from her pussy.
I wanted all of it—all of her juices I had coaxed from her cunt and the symphony of moans and cries I made her scream with just three fingers buried so deep inside of her that she felt them in her lower belly.
And I had gotten it all—every fucking thing that I wanted, and then some.
We were lost in the moment, bonding over her secret that she finally came off of. The world around us was forgotten as we chased the fiery passion and the release that we both desperately needed. And when it was over, we were left breathless, tangled in each other's arms as we watched the embers of the fire slowly fade into the night, feeling something passing between us that was deeper than anything either of us had experienced before.
But I knew we had only scratched the surface of the darkness Emerson was carrying, and I was ready to go to hell and back for her. Because when it came down to it, I would fucking do anything for her.
Unfortunately, that loyalty might just be my fucking downfall.