Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Emmersyn
When I arrive at the kitchen, Caleb’s avoiding my gaze like he’s got something to hide. His focus is locked on the fancy coffee maker, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands grip the counter just a little too tight. A smirk tugs at my lips. I have a feeling that he heard me in the bathroom—there’s no way he didn’t.
The thought of him listening, wanting, has my pulse quickening all over again. My mind spins with the image of him standing outside the bathroom door, fists clenched, jaw tight, battling with himself not to barge in and take me like he used to.
Did he really think I was going to let him have my inheritance that easily? I know the one thing he can’t resist—my body. He claimed it, molded it the way he likes it, making me submit to his every desire. I trusted him with it, but I also learned how to bring him to his knees with just a few well-placed, dirty little words. He might be the one who dominates, but I’ve discovered the power in surrendering, in giving him exactly what he wants while getting everything I need in return.
Am I planning to wear almost nothing while I’m around him?
Absolutely.
He’ll be dealing with a serious case of blue balls by tomorrow night, or he’ll start losing assets one by one. If I recall correctly, he likes it at least twice a day. That gives me three hundred and sixty-some chances to recover every item he’s trying to take away from me. And as an added bonus, I get his cock. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it.
As I mentioned, he taught me to need him—to crave the feel of him inside me, the way his length soothes every ache and need. He’s made me hunger for the way he fills me, the way he satisfies my deepest desires.
And right now, I’m starving for it. The thought of taking him in my mouth, of feeling him on my tongue, brings a rush of heat that’s impossible to ignore. I want to taste him, to let him fill me, to be the one who satisfies his darkest desires .
What I would’ve given to see him opening that door, storming in, and pressing me against the shower wall, his body hot and hard against mine, his hands rough as they roamed over every inch of me.
But then he glances up, and all those thoughts come to a screeching halt. His eyes lock onto mine, and in that split second, I see everything. The barely restrained desire burning in his darkened gaze, the raw hunger that’s threatening to snap his control. His eyes are filled with need—his pupils dilated, his chest heaving slightly as though he’s trying to keep his breathing steady.
It’s like a switch has flipped, and all he can think about is burying himself inside me: fucking me hard and deep until there’s nothing left but the two of us tangled in sweaty sheets.
And then, something darker flickers in his eyes, a flash of pure, unfiltered need that nearly makes my knees buckle. It’s the way he used to look at me when all he wanted was to see me on my knees, lips wrapped around his cock, taking him so deep that I’d choke on his thickness.
“Take it, baby,” he would order, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how much you want it, how you want to swallow me.”
I can almost feel the weight of him against my tongue, the salty taste of him flooding my mouth as he thrusts deeper, his hands fisting in my hair, controlling the pace as he watches me struggle to take all of him.
The image of me, kneeling before him, eyes glazed over with desire as I desperately try to please him, flickers in my mind, and I know he’s picturing the same thing.
I slowly lick my lips, the gesture deliberate and teasing, as if I’m promising him everything he’s been fantasizing about. His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking with tension, and I can almost feel the heat rolling off him, thick with frustration and desire.
He’s on the edge, teetering between holding back and giving in, and I can see how much it’s killing him not to close the distance between us and take what we both know he wants.
His gaze drops to my lips, watching the slow, tantalizing sweep of my tongue, and his nostrils flare. It’s almost imperceptible, but I catch it—the way his knuckles turn white from the grip he has on the counter, as if he’s using it to anchor himself, to stop himself from crossing the room and claiming me right then and there.
The air between us crackles with tension. It's so thick and charged that I can barely breathe, and I know without a doubt that he’s fighting a losing battle.
The smirk on my lips deepens, and I take a step closer, the space between us shrinking. “Caleb,” I murmur, my voice low and sultry, daring him to make the next move.
He sucks in a breath, and for a moment, I swear he’s going to snap—close the distance, slam me up against the wall, and take me like he’s been dying to. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, eyes locked on mine, burning with the promise of what could happen but he won’t give it to me. He might tease me, punish me, but he won’t give me his cock for teasing him.
“You want me to work—” I pause deliberately, biting my lower lip for effect. “The coffee maker.”
“You’re playing with fire,” he says, his voice rough. Each word striking like a match against flint. That voice, all dark and gravelly, sends a pulse of heat straight to my core, is making my breath hitch.
My body hums with need, every inch of me craving the touch I know he’s holding back. If he laid a hand on me right now, I’d be done for.
“Excuse me?” I say, feigning innocence as I tilt my head, a playful smile dancing on my lips. I’m savoring this, pushing him, testing just how far I can take it before he finally snaps.
He walks closer, his presence magnetic, but still keeps enough distance to maintain the thin line between us. His blue eyes narrow, frustration mixing with something darker, something hotter, something that sends a thrill straight through me. “You know exactly what you’re doing, Emmersyn. You’re provoking the fuck out of me.”
“Provoking you?” I let out a soft, incredulous laugh, playing it off even though I’m fully aware that I’m guilty as charged. “I’m just offering to make coffee. If that’s all it takes to rile you up, maybe you need to work on your self-control.”
His gaze drops to my lips, then slowly trails down my body, lingering on every curve, making my skin prickle with anticipation. By the time his eyes snap back up to meet mine, I’m burning.
“Trust me,” he growls, voice low and rough, “my self-control is the only thing keeping me from bending you over that counter and fucking you senseless.”
I raise an eyebrow, my smile turning into a wicked smirk. “Is that so? I thought I wasn’t getting your cock.”
His jaw tightens, and he takes another step closer, the distance between us shrinking to nothing. The air around us thickens, electric, like we’re on the edge of something explosive. I can see the battle in his eyes, the war between keeping himself in check and giving in to what we both desperately want.
The idea of him losing that tight grip on control, of finally letting go, sends a delicious shiver down my body that’s almost too much to handle.
“Emmersyn,” he murmurs, his voice a dangerous whisper, “you have no idea how badly I want to drop to my knees and make you scream my name until you can’t take it anymore.”
I swallow hard, my breath catching as his words hit me like a punch to the gut. But I refuse to back down. Instead, I step closer, my lips just a breath away from his. “Maybe I do,” I breathe out, letting the challenge hang thick and heavy between us.
In a move so fast it leaves me dizzy, he’s right in front of me, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck, pulling me in. His lips hover just above mine, his breath hot and ragged against my skin, making every nerve in my body stand on end. “You’re treading on dangerous ground,” he warns, his voice dripping with lust and restraint.
“Maybe I like the heat. The burn,” I whisper back, my voice trembling with anticipation, my heart pounding in my chest.
His grip tightens, his other hand sliding down to my waist, pulling me flush against him. I can feel the hard length of him pressing insistently against my stomach, and it’s almost enough to make me lose control right then and there. My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, the tension between us snapping like a live wire.
His lips crash against mine, and everything else fades away. The world narrows to just the two of us, the fierce press of his mouth, the searing heat between us. His kiss is wild, desperate, like he’s finally given up on holding back, and it’s everything I’ve been craving. His tongue tangles with mine, each stroke more demanding, more insistent, making my whole body zing with electricity.
I can’t help the moan that escapes me, muffled against his lips, as his hand slides down my back, gripping my waist with enough force to leave bruises. But I want those bruises, want the proof of how badly he needs me, how close he is to losing control. My fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing more, craving the feel of his hard body against mine.
My nipples harden, pebbling against the fabric of my dress as his chest presses against me, the friction sending sharp, sweet jolts of pleasure through my body. I arch into him, desperate for more contact, my body practically buzzing with the need to be touched, to be claimed.
Caleb doesn’t disappoint. His free hand slides up my side, fingers brushing the curve of my waist before he cups my breast through the flimsy fabric of my dress, his thumb flicking over my hardened nipple. The sensation is like a lightning strike, hot and sharp, and I gasp into his mouth, my knees nearly giving out from the sheer intensity of it.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with desire, his breath ragged. “You feel that?” he whispers, his voice thick with lust, his thumb circling my nipple again, slower this time, teasing. “That’s what you do to me. You make me want to tear every piece of clothing off you and take you right here, right now. Make you mine.”
My skin is on fire, every nerve ending alive and buzzing, the anticipation making me tremble. “Then do it,” I challenge, my voice breathless, daring him to take what we both want. “I’ve always been yours. Only yours.”
His eyes flare at my words, and with a growl, he slips his hand over the neckline of my dress, pushing the fabric aside until his hand is on my bare skin. The heat of his touch sears me, his rough fingers grazing my nipple through the fabric, sending another bolt of pleasure straight through me. My breath quickens, my body arching into his hand, wanting more, needing more.
Just as his words hang in the air, dripping with raw need, the intensity between us reaches a fever pitch. My pulse is racing, my skin is on fire, and I’m teetering on the edge, ready to fall into him, to let go completely.
But then, in an instant, Caleb’s body goes rigid, his grip on me loosening as his head tilts slightly, that ever-present alertness of his kicking in.
And just when I think I might combust, he pulls back, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with a mix of lust and frustration. “This isn’t over,” he growls, his voice thick with promise.
My heart is pounding, my body trembling with the need he’s ignited in me. I know he’s right. This isn’t over—not by a long shot.
“You just lost something,” I say, flustered, my voice trembling as I try to regain control. I want more—God, do I want more—but I’m upset at myself for letting him get this far, for not stopping him sooner.
“I don’t give a fuck about what I lost, Emmersyn. Try that one more time, and the next thing you know, I’ll have you on your knees, begging for my cock—I know how much you like it, baby.”
His words send a rush of heat through me, my mind whirling with a mix of anger and desire. Damn him for knowing exactly how to get under my skin, for knowing exactly what buttons to push to make me unravel. My cheeks flush, and I bite my lip, trying to ignore the way my body is betraying me, the way every nerve seems to tingle in anticipation.
Why does he have to be so infuriatingly confident, so sure that I’ll cave? And worse, why do I want to?
A thousand thoughts race through my mind, each one a jumble of conflicting emotions. I’m caught between wanting to slap that smug grin off his face and wanting to pull him back to me, to feel him against me again.
A few moments later, Max walks into the kitchen with baby Emma in his arms, looking more bleary-eyed than usual. He spots me and grins. “Emmersyn, you’re a lifesaver. Thanks for soothing her twice last night. Can you stay with us forever?”
I laugh, the sound light and easy, and reach out to tickle Emma’s tiny feet. “I don’t know if you could handle having me around all the time, Max.”
Max chuckles, rocking Emma gently. “We’ll manage. You’ve got the magic touch with this one.”
Just then, Zoe arrives in the kitchen, freshly bathed and looking more rested than she did yesterday. She beams at me, wrapping me in a warm hug. “So, either you move in with us, or we’re moving to New York—this is the first night we’ve slept more than a few hours,” she says with a laugh.
I smile, feeling a mix of warmth and discomfort. Before I can respond, my phone rings. It’s Jane. “Sorry, I need to take this,” I say, offering them an apologetic smile before stepping out of the room to answer the call.
As I walk down the hallway, Jane’s voice filters through the line, but I’m only half-listening, distracted by the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. I pause just outside the doorway, unable to resist eavesdropping.
“She’s amazing with Emma,” Zoe’s voice is soft, full of admiration. “I didn’t expect that, but it’s true. We’re lucky you brought her with you.”
Max chimes in, “Yeah, she’s been a huge help. You can tell she really cares.”
There’s a pause, and then I hear Caleb’s voice, low and dismissive. “Don’t get used to her. She’s faking it. She’s not really like that. She’s cold and heartless.”
It’s okay, I remind myself. That’s exactly what I want him to think. He doesn’t matter, and I don’t care about convincing him otherwise. But as much as I try to shrug it off, there’s a sting that lingers, a tiny voice in the back of my mind that wishes he could see me differently. I push it aside, refusing to let it take hold.
“So it’s condemned, and you’ll have to find a new place to live ASAP,” Jane says, as if she’s talking about a minor inconvenience like running out of coffee.
I stare at the phone, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Great. Just what I needed—another reason to question my life choices and how much my grandmother or the entire universe likes to make me pivot and fix shit.”