17. Emerson #2
Pearl was a different person in the privacy of the museum. She lit up, bouncing from painting to statue and then back to the same painting. She took me from room to room, talking my ear off about what she liked.
The fabric looks so real.
The pinks and blues look so pretty together.
This one just feels so heartbreaking, doesn't it?
Gosh, I've always wanted to see this in person.
This is so exciting!
Just one more time around this room, okay? Then we'll go.
I didn’t care how long she took or how many rooms she walked into. I just wanted to look at her. Be with her. With her, there was no getting bored.
She was everything. But I didn't have the courage to tell her so.
Is this enough to show her at least a bit of what she means to me?
A part of me was scared. The more I watched her, the more I realized that someone as pure and kind-hearted as her shouldn't be around someone like me.
Like my father.
Let me determine what I deserve. Let me choose whose love I’m worthy of, okay?
I let her words push his ghost away and just stay in the moment. Pearl was looking up at a large painting that took up most of the wall. Blues and purples were splattered throughout, and I couldn't make out what it was, but she seemed to be completely immersed in it.
Her eyes were glittering as she examined the painting with half scrutiny and half fascination. Her cheeks had a light flush to them. Her mouth was open, and her shiny lips were just begging to be kissed.
I want my love to be enough for her. I want to be enough for her.
“Emerson…”
Pearl’s voice pulled me out of my haze, and before I could even register it, I was pushed against the museum wall, her lips on mine.
“Thank you,” she murmured through kisses. “For showing me something I’d only seen in books.”
I hoisted her up, my hands grabbing the back of her thighs, forcing her legs around me as I spun us so I was pushing her against the wall. She gasped and bucked her hips against me in anticipation.
“Is this what you want, Pearl?”
“Please,” she begged. She was all dolled up and perfect for our date, but now that she was begging me to ruin her, I wouldn’t be strong enough to reject her. “I miss you. It’s been too long.”
The contract put me in control of our dynamic and placed a collar around her neck, but in reality, the collar had been on me the entire time. I would do anything for Pearl. She didn't even have to ask.
My lips ran from her mouth to her neck. I knew what she needed because I needed it too, and I was happy to deliver.
“In The Met, of all places? My desperate whore just can’t get enough, can she?” My hand was already slipping under the skirt of her dress. “Fucking hell, Pearl,” I growled when I realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear and my fingers were met with her wetness.
I fucking loved how eager she was to be used by me.
“I can’t, not with you,” she gasped as I speared two fingers inside her.
Her hands pulled down her top, baring her naked breasts to me, and she arched, pleading for my mouth on them.
“Use your words, pretty girl.”
“Taste them,” she moaned.
I fucked her with one hand as I leaned down to suck on an erect nipple.
“Oh god, Emerson…”
“That's right. I want to hear your voice echoing through these halls. I want everyone to know just how needy you are for me.”
There was no doubt the security guard had already heard us, and I was sure someone was watching on a camera somewhere, but that made it all the hotter. I wanted them to know what I was doing to her. Wanted them to know how desperate she was for me and only me.
I’d never taken myself for an exhibitionist, but there was something erotic about degrading her in such a respected place.
I gave her one last hard thrust before I ground the heel of my palm against her clit. She cried out, throwing her head back, hitting the wall, but she didn’t even feel it as my thrusts turned into rocking. I knew she'd be falling over the edge soon.
Her breathing quickened. Her moans danced in the empty halls around us. Her cunt squeezed my fingers, sucking them further and further as I pulled them out and forced them back into her hard.
I bit down on one of her nipples, then ran my tongue over the sensitive bud to wash away the sting.
“So good, Emerson. Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this here.”
“Don't lie,” I hissed. “You've been thinking about it from the moment you walked in here.”
Looking up at her, I realized that my words were truer than I thought when I saw the light in her eyes.
This is why we’re so perfect together.
She was insatiable. Constantly needing to be used by me. But so was I. There would never be a day when I would get enough of her, no matter how many places I had her or how many years I spent fucking her just like this.
There would never be a day when I would get tired of the beauty that was Pearl Meadows.
She opened her mouth, probably meaning to tell me I was wrong, but her entire body froze as her orgasm ran through her. She was a vision as she came. So much prettier and more perfect than the useless several-million-dollar art all around us.
“My perfect little whore. Call out my name. Let everyone know who’s fucking you so well.”
“Emer… Emerson!”
Her screams bounced off the museum walls as three words echoed inside my head.
Mine. All mine.
When her eyes finally fluttered open to look at me, she met me with a small smile, and I knew it then like I’d known in high school.
There was no escaping her. I was completely gone.