Chapter 17
Emory
It was late by the time Emory had convinced Clayton it was time to go to bed. He’d spent his entire bedtime routine protesting, and her patience wore incredibly thin, but she persisted until he finally fell asleep as she dragged out a made-up lullaby for the fifty-somethingth time.
Her thick socks were soft against the carpet of the hallway as she crept out of the room and snuck down the hall to her own bedroom before Byron could see her. She wasn’t hiding from him, but she wasn’t ready to face him yet either.
Every sense had been heightened, and she’d been on edge all day, but it had become exceptionally worse after Byron had kissed her in the hall.
She let out a shaky breath at the memory.
Kissing Byron had been everything and not enough.
If he had intended it as a mere teaser for what was to come, it had worked.
Emory had spent the rest of the afternoon and all evening with the memory of his lips on hers, and she was ready for more.
But she needed to shower first, to douse herself in cold water so she could back off just a fraction. Maybe then she wouldn’t come off quite so needy.
She gathered her things and snuck across the hall to the bathroom. Dropping her towel on the floor, she pulled off her clothes. The water was still cold as she stepped in, but the shock was exactly what she needed.
With soapy hands, she let her fingers roam over her body, and her imagination ran wild. She pictured Byron, in the shower with her, getting her all sudsy and slick. She thought of his hands exploring her body, and she remembered that this was no longer just a fantasy. This could be her reality.
It was wrong, wasn’t it? To want Byron in this way. Wasn’t that what she had told herself so many times over the past few years?
But even with those years of trying to force away her sexual attraction for the man, it still blossomed deep in her belly. As the water streaming over her warmed, so did the desire. It pooled in her core, and she realised that this was it now. There would be no turning back.
She was suddenly determined to see this through. After all, she’d earned herself a little fun, hadn’t she?
The rest of her shower passed in a blur, she was in such a rush to finish.
To find Byron. To claim what she’d wanted for so damn long.
She was just rinsing the conditioner from her hair when the lights turned black.
A half second later, before she’d really had time to process the lack of light, the water turned icy.
She yelped at the chill. Reaching behind her, she fumbled to turn the tap off.
A little excess conditioner in her hair wouldn’t hurt.
She could wash it off tomorrow when the power came back on.
As she stepped out of the shower, the bathroom door swung open and torch light shone into the space.
Byron’s figure was silhouetted by the bright beam, which blinded her.
Dropping to the floor, Emory scrambled to find her towel.
But Byron had jolted the torchlight away, and her eyes were still flashing anyway.
That was a top, her leggings, until finally she felt the soft fabric of the towel and hastily wrapped it around herself.
She was unsteady as she stood, both hands grasping at the towel, holding it against her dripping body.
“Fuck, sorry,” Byron mumbled. He’d half turned away but left the torch shining against the ceiling. “I heard you yell. I worried you’d fallen when the lights went out. I’m sorry.”
He thrust the torch towards her, shaking it around a little. “Take this,” he added. “I’ve got another in the den.”
Emory pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She wondered if she should be embarrassed, but she wasn’t. She was … thrilled. Excited, even. Her pussy throbbed and she felt a wetness that had nothing to do with the shower beginning to pool.
Holding the towel with one hand, she reached her other out to grab the torch from Byron. There was nothing accidental about the way her fingers brushed against his, or the way she held her hand over his instead of pulling the torch away.
“Byron,” she whispered. Her exhale was shaky, and the sliver of courage was waning. She needed him to turn around. To look at her, to see her. To feel it too.
His eyes were closed as he turned his body back to her. Emory watched his Adam’s apple bob in the shadows from the torch. She waited, and waited and waited until she couldn’t hold herself together any longer.
“Open your eyes.”
Her chest heaved, and something deep rumbled from Byron’s.
“Can’t,” he groaned.
Oh. Oh.
“Why?”
Please don’t say you don’t want to. God, if he had changed his mind about this, she was going to crawl into a tiny ball and hide right here inside the bathroom until the flood receded and she could escape.
“Because I saw you.” Byron let out a shaky sigh and brought his hand up to scratch at his jaw. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to, Em, but I saw you and if I see you again, I’m not going to be able to stand here like a gentleman while I hold the light for you.”
Her mouth dropped open with a gasp. She could feel her heart racing in her chest. It pounded in her neck and throbbed in her core.
“Good,” she whispered. It was shaky and quiet and not at all the confidence she wanted to portray right now, but it was all she could muster.
“Emory,” Byron warned her, hesitating.
She pulled her lips into her mouth to wet them and let her bottom lip out with a faint pop. “I said good,” she managed to say. “Open your eyes.”
He might have, but if he did, he moved too quickly for her to notice.
One second, he was a foot away from her, squeezing his eyes shut, and then the next, he was standing over her with a hand behind her neck.
The torch hung at his side as he backed her against the shower screen and crashed his lips into hers.
He moaned as she opened her mouth, inviting him in.
Emory kept one hand to her chest, holding the towel around her, but she let the other hand feel up his arm and loop behind his head.
She grabbed at the short hair on the nape of his neck and pulled him closer.
His tongue explored her mouth, running against her own while his lips held her close.
It was all frenzy and wild and fucking hot. Byron must have put the torch down because he ran his hand up her inner thigh, ducking under the loose ends of the towel. He traced his fingers higher, pausing when he reached the little dip.
His featherlight touch tickled Emory, and she gasped. Byron pulled back from their kiss, his hand unmoving.
“Emory?”
She hummed. She didn’t trust herself with words anymore.
Byron’s forehead rested against her own. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
His thumb inched closer to the apex of her thigh. He was so close. So. Close. She pushed her hips forward, but he held her still.
“Use your words, Em.”
Emory pulled in a deep breath, letting it out with a shaky sigh. The word was caught in her throat, but she knew she needed to voice it. “Y-yes,” she stammered.
Byron caught the word with his lips. He kissed her like his life depended on it and dipped his hand to her core. His thumb pressed against her clit as his fingers stroked through her folds, spreading her wetness all around her.
He moaned into her mouth. “You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you? So fucking ready for me.”
Emory whimpered. She could do nothing more than kiss him and hold him close.
When he pressed two fingers inside her, she gasped against his mouth and dropped her towel.
She felt so full, more so than her own hand had ever made her feel.
Her head dropped back against the cool glass of the shower screen, and Byron kissed his way down her neck.
While his fingers pumped in and out of her, he pulled her breast into his mouth.
His tongue flicked her nipple, and her knees began to shake.
Popping off her breast, Byron stilled his fingers. “Not yet,” he warned her. “Not until I’ve had a chance to see how good you taste.”
Nodding her head, Emory held her breath. Byron pressed his thumb against her clit but kept his fingers still.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To come all over my tongue? Your pussy is fucking aching for it.”
“Please,” she whispered.
“Oh, Em, it will be my fucking pleasure.”
Byron dropped to his knees in front of her and hoisted one of her legs over his shoulder. His breath was warm against her cunt and Emory reached a hand above her head to grab the top of the shower door. Byron growled against her core, and she felt it vibrate through her bones.
When his tongue flicked against her clit, she melted against him. She pulled him closer, grinding her hips against his face in an act of pure need. There was no other way to explain it.
He licked her pussy, devouring her like she was his last meal until her legs began to shake again.
Her chest heaved as her release soared nearer.
Byron dipped his fingers back between her folds and thrust them into her.
He curled them against her inner walls and grazed his teeth against her clit and Emory was nothing but a puddle.
With one hand holding her weight, he drew her orgasm out until she was gasping for breath and shaking all over.
He continued to suck on her clit until every tiny spasm eased.
Standing up, Byron wrapped his arms around Emory’s waist and lifted her into his arms. She pulled his face towards hers, kissing him as she caught her breath. The taste of her desire on his tongue was more than enough to fuel the fire in her veins.
“The condoms,” she moaned against his mouth. “My room.”
Byron carried her across the dark hall, barely breaking their kiss. Hazy, cloud-covered moonlight bled into the room through the open curtains, giving them just enough light to find the bed. Emory crawled across it, reaching for the bedside table and pulling out the box.
She pinched at the plastic wrap that still coated it and cursed herself for not thinking to open it before right now.
She didn’t want the moment to pause any longer than it needed to.
But the damned plastic was tough, and she was still pulling at it with her nails when Byron grabbed the box from her.
Emory rolled onto her back. Her eyes widened, and she pulled her lower lip into her mouth.
Byron had pulled off his pants and shirt and was kneeling over her.
His cock hung firm between his legs. She’d been right.
He was big. She didn’t know if he would fit, especially not after so long, but she wanted desperately to find out.
Byron kept his eyes on her as he brought the box to his mouth and bit a hole in the plastic so that he could rip it off.
He wasted no time pulling out a foil packet, bringing it to his mouth, too.
Emory watched with her lip between her teeth as he rolled the condom over his length.
Once it was on, she reached for him, sure she was supposed to do something here other than just lie there aroused, wanting and waiting.
But Byron grabbed her wrist before she could touch him.
He placed her hands above her head, but he didn’t hold them there.
Moving at an aching pace, he trailed his hands down her body.
He palmed at her breasts, pinched her nipples, then continued lower to grab her hips.
Pulling her towards him, he spread her legs wide and leant over her.
He smirked at her, then spat on her pussy.
The saliva hit her clit and she gasped, again.
She’d always imagined sex with Byron would be fucking amazing, but this? This was extraordinary. This was more.
He ran his shaft through her folds, spreading his saliva in with her own need. Once she was soaked, he pressed the tip against her entrance.
Leaning down, Byron held himself over her and kissed her.
“Em,” he warned. “Are you sure?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think it will fit.”
“It will fit if you’re sure.”
Emory kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “I’m sure.”
Byron pushed in slowly, and Emory felt herself stretch for him. Her breath caught in her throat as she adjusted to his size.
“That’s it, Em, a little more. You can do it.”
It was those words that had her coming undone. His praise, his encouragement. She let her legs drop open a little further, and Byron thrust into her. He paused, moaning.
“Fuck, Em, you’re so fucking tight.”
She bit his lip. She wanted him to move. She needed him to move. She rocked her hips against the bed, then back into him.
“Fuuuuck,” he moaned, the word dragging out on his breath. He moved slowly at first, pumping in and out lazily until Emory was desperate for more.
When he finally started to pick up the pace, Emory’s head fell back against the pillow.
Byron held her close, and he thrust into her over and over again.
She was full and whole, and her body ached to feel everything that Byron could give her.
Her breaths quickened to short gasping intakes of air as her second release built and built and built.
“Byron,” she murmured through her raspy breaths. “I’m going to …”
She wasn’t able to finish her sentence. He kissed her as her orgasm ripped through her, thrusting deep into her until she couldn’t breathe.
Stars filled her vision, and tears filled her eyes.
She trembled underneath him. Byron groaned with his last frenzied thrusts as his own orgasm had him shuddering.
He rolled them together until they were on their sides, and then he kissed her. This one was nothing like the frenzied explorations of before. This one was slow and sensual and … loving. Emory kissed him back, but she brushed off the thought.
Don’t get silly, she told herself.
It was just the post-orgasm endorphins.
She told herself that’s all it was, even after he took her to the bathroom to wash up and after he got her a drink. She even told herself it meant nothing when he curled into bed with her.
And even in the morning, when Byron stirred early, slipping out of bed with a gentle kiss on her forehead before Clayton came to find her, she still told herself it meant nothing.
But she knew she was lying.