Chapter 15 – EMMA #2
Somehow, I know it’s not. This is not normal. I’ve heard my girlfriends talk about sex. It never sounded as incredible as this.
“Yes. Fuck it, yes, I promise.”
I need to feel it, feel this, everything that he has to give me.
With nothing more than a satisfied nod and a bruising kiss, he tugs my underwear aside and finally, finally, his fingers touch bare flesh.
I moan, smothering my cries by pressing my lips to his bare shoulder. My nails dig into his muscular back as he strokes through my wetness, spreading it up and over my clit in slow, devastating circles.
“So sensitive.” He sounds almost reverent. “So attuned to my touch.”
I can’t respond. I can barely breathe. All I can do is cling to him as he plays my body like an instrument, building me higher with every stroke. His fingers stay on my clit, never dipping inside, though he circles my clenching entrance, teasing me with each careful pass.
Despite my frustration, some distant part of my brain registers that he’s being careful, that he’s protecting my virginity, even now, even when I’d let him do anything he wanted.
“I’ve thought about this.” His voice is low and hypnotic as his fingers work their magic. “Thought about what you’d taste like. What sounds you’d make when you came. Prayed you’d slip your fingers back into your panties and finish the job just so I could hear you.”
Fuck. Nobody has ever spoken to me like this.
“Bodhi…” I’m climbing fast, too fast, as my entire body coils tightly. Nerves flutter in my belly. I’ve come with my vibrator before, but nothing has felt even remotely as powerful as this. I’m afraid of what’s coming.
“Let me taste you.” It’s not quite a question since he’s already sliding back onto his knees. With gentle hands, he drags my panties down my legs and over my ankles before balling them in his fist and bringing them to his nose.
I watch, transfixed, while he holds them against his face and breathes deep, his eyelids falling shut as he groans in pleasure.
Stunned, I can’t look away, unsure whether I should be horrified rather than the giddy arousal I feel at the sight of this big man, brought to his knees by my desire for him.
“Heavenly,” he murmurs, slipping the panties into his back pocket and leaning forward once more.
He frowns when he sees I’ve clamped my legs shut once more, and with a gentle tut and slow hands, he pries them apart.
“Perfect.” Unable to think about whether he’s talking about me or my vagina, I blush under this praise. Locking eyes with me once, he lifts one of my legs over his shoulder, pushing my skirt even higher up around my waist. “I need to taste you, Emma.”
Holy shit. I thought men hated doing this. For a fleeting moment, I’m self-conscious, unsure that I’m ready for such an intimate act with a man I barely know.
“Show me you trust me. Let me worship you, please you.” But when I take a deep breath, I can feel his adoration in my heart, and his care, deep in my soul. And with this potentially being my last chance to experience it, I nod.
“Yes.” The word comes out as a moan. “Yes, please, yes…”
The first touch of his tongue makes me scream.
Bodhi covers my mouth with his hand and whispers a shh against my clit that has me rising off the floor and moaning into his palm.
“If you mean it, you’ll come for me.” He demands.
Surely, it’s not that simple.
I’m about to point that out when he licks through my folds in one long, slow stroke, then closes his mouth over my clit and sucks.
My hands fly to his hair, gripping the dark strands as my hips buck against his face.
He growls against me, and the vibration sends shockwaves through my entire body.
“Oh God,” I mumble. I’m shaking, trembling, barely able to stay still, but knowing I need to. “Bodhi, I’m going to… I can’t…”
My denial seems to either enrage or encourage him.
He doesn’t let up. His tongue circles my clit in tight, relentless patterns while his hands grip my hips, holding me in place and taking everything I have to give. When he slides one hand around to grip my ass, tilting me into his mouth, I shatter.
The orgasm crashes through me like a wave. Wildfire. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I hear myself crying out his name, feel my body convulsing against his mouth, but it’s all distant, drowned out by the pleasure consuming every nerve ending.
He works me through it, his tongue gentling as the aftershocks roll through me, until I’m sagging against him, boneless and gasping.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs against my inner thigh, pressing a kiss there, then to the sensitive skin behind my knee as he stands. “So fucking beautiful.”
I’m still trying to remember how to breathe when he pulls me into his arms and cradles me against his chest.
His erection presses against my hip, thick and hard, as he holds me, and I reach for him instinctively, but he catches my wrist.
“No.” His voice is rough with restraint.
“What?” He was supposed to take me. To take my virginity. “But you didn’t…” I pout, scarcely believing he’s denying me. We might never get another chance.
“Tonight was about you.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, achingly tender. “About making you feel good.”
Still feeling dizzy and dazed from the orgasm, I blink up at him, confused. “I thought you’d want to…”
Something close to pain blazes in his eyes. “I want to.” He groans before taking my mouth in a devastating kiss. “There’s nothing I want more than to take you and claim you for myself.”
I taste myself on his lips and groan, astounded by the fact that I feel powerful and turned on, and not repulsed. None of this is how I imagined it.
“All I want is to come deep inside you, while you break around my cock, screaming my name, over and over again.”
I thought I was done, but suddenly, my libido is roaring back to life, ready for round two.
“But I made you promise that you wouldn’t do anything that might get you killed. So, I’m not going to be the one that breaks it.”
It takes a minute for my sluggish brain to catch up, then I laugh weakly. I did promise that, but I didn’t mean it. “You fight dirty.”
Surely there are laws against that, and anything said under the duress of orgasm withdrawal doesn’t count.
“I fight to win.” He carries me to the bed, laying me down on the silk coverlet with a gentleness that makes my chest ache. “I’m going to get you out of here. But I need you alive to do it.”
He’s ridiculously strong, bossy, and even though it’s impossible for my rational mind to comprehend, I do trust him. And so, I will.
With my life.
He pulls the duvet over me, smoothing my hair back from my face. Reaching for the blinds, he shuts out all light, plunging the room into almost complete darkness.
Apart from the hypnotic glow of his eyes.
“Stay,” I whisper.
The word hangs in the air between us, as does his hesitation.
“I’ll be right outside the door.” He leans over me, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
My eyes are already growing heavy as the adrenaline crash combines with the aftermath of the most intense orgasm of my life. I want to argue, want to pull him into the bed beside me, but exhaustion is dragging me under.
“Trust me,” he whispers, his soft lips brushing my forehead one last time, his thick beard tickling my nose. “Just trust me.”
And despite everything, despite the chaos and the fear and the impossible situation we’re in, I do.
The last thing I see before sleep claims me is Bodhi silhouetted in the doorway, watching over me like a sentinel.
My protector. Like something from a fairytale.
Like something more than just your average man.