5. Emily
5
EMILY
T he elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, and I step out into a world that feels like it’s a million miles away from my cramped, struggling existence. Lucas’s penthouse is everything I imagined it would be—opulent, sophisticated, and almost otherworldly.
The walls are made of glass, offering a breathtaking view of Central Park, its trees silhouetted against the night sky. The room is bathed in the warm, golden light of strategically placed lamps, casting a soft glow over the luxurious furniture and artwork that looks like it belongs in a museum.
I feel like I’m in a dream, one of those where you’re afraid to move, afraid that if you do, you’ll wake up and find that none of it was real. But Lucas is here, and his presence is the only thing that makes this feel real.
He’s standing just behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body, the electricity that crackles in the air between us.
I turn to face him, my heart pounding in my chest, and the look in his eyes makes my breath catch. There’s something primal in the way he’s looking at me, something that makes me feel both excited and nervous.
I’ve never been the type to be submissive, not in my life, not in my work, but with Lucas, it’s different. With him, I want to give in, to let go, to see where this night will take us.
“Emily,” he says, his voice a low, velvety murmur that sends shivers down my spine. He steps closer, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from my face. His touch is gentle, but there’s an underlying intensity to it, a promise of what’s to come. “Are you sure?”
His question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I know what he’s asking—not just about tonight, but about everything that comes with it. The risks, the consequences, the fact that this might be the only night we have. Can he feel that chemistry too?
I nod. “Yes.”
That single word is all it takes to break the tension. He closes the distance between us in one swift movement, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that steals my breath away. It’s not soft or tentative; it’s demanding, possessive, the kind of kiss that leaves no room for doubt about what he wants.
And I want it too—I want him. I want to forget everything else, to lose myself in the sensation of his lips on mine, the feel of his hands as they begin to roam over my body.
His kiss deepens, his tongue slipping past my lips to explore my mouth with a hunger that matches my own. I moan softly against his mouth, my hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
He responds by pressing me back against the wall, his body pinning mine in place. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of his body, the sensation sending a delicious thrill through me.
He begins to strip me out of my clothes. His movements are quick, efficient, but there’s a tenderness to the way his fingers brush against my skin as he undoes the buttons of my pants.
Piece by piece, he removes every barrier between us until I’m standing before him in nothing but my underwear.
Lucas steps back for a moment, his gaze raking over me in a way that makes me feel both exposed and cherished.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before his hands move to the clasp of my bra, unhooking it with a deftness that speaks of experience. The fabric falls away, and his eyes darken further as he takes in the sight of me, bare and vulnerable before him.
I shake my head. “Last boyfriend called me too chunky.”
“Give me his name and I’ll slit his throat.”
“Why do I get the feeling you mean that?”
He frowns. “You’ve got the curves of a goddess,” he replies. “Never put yourself down. Enough people out there to do it, don’t do it to yourself. You’re beautiful. Say it.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“Like you mean it.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m beautiful.”
“Good girl.”
I want to moan when he says that. I should feel more self-conscious, but I don’t. Not with the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the most exquisite thing he’s ever seen.
His hands glide down to my hips, hooking into the waistband of my panties and slowly, torturously, pulling them down my legs. I step out of them, my breath hitching as I stand completely naked in front of him.
“Lucas…” I start to say, but he cuts me off with another kiss, this one even more intense than the last. His hands slide up my sides, over my breasts, eliciting a gasp from me as his thumbs brush over my nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
Before I can fully process what’s happening, he’s on his knees in front of me, his hands gripping my hips as he looks up at me with a smoldering gaze. “I’m going to make you feel good, Emily,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “But you have to trust me.”
I can only nod, my voice caught in my throat as I watch him lean in, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the inside of my thigh. The sensation is almost too much, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out as his mouth moves higher, his breath warm against my skin.
When he finally reaches the place where I need him most, my knees almost buckle. His tongue flicks out, teasing me, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes my lips.
He takes his time, exploring every inch of my pussy with a precision that leaves me breathless, writhing against the wall as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.
The pleasure builds inside me, a tight coil of heat that’s ready to snap at any moment. “Lucas, please…” I gasp, my hands fisting in his hair as I try to pull him closer, to push myself over that edge. “Don’t stop.”
He responds by increasing the intensity, his tongue moving on my clit in rhythm with the movements of his fingers, pushing me further and further until I can’t take it anymore.
The coil inside me snaps, and I shatter around him, my body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.
He holds me steady as I come down from the high, his lips pressing soft kisses to my thighs, my belly, my hips, as if to soothe the aftershocks of my orgasm.
When I finally open my eyes, I find him standing before me, watching me with a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper, something I can’t quite name.
I’m still trying to catch my breath when he begins to strip out of his own clothes. I watch, mesmerized, as he shrugs off his jacket, unbuttons his shirt, and lets it fall to the floor.
His body is as perfect as I imagined—lean, muscular, every inch of him exuding power and control.
By the time he’s completely naked, I’ve managed to recover just enough to take in the sight of him, and I feel that fire reignite inside me.
There’s something about him that’s utterly intoxicating, something that makes me want to submit to him completely, to let him take whatever he wants from me. I can’t stop staring at his cock, rock hard, pointing straight at me. Are my curves making him that hard?
He steps closer, his hands cupping my face as he kisses me again, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of me. I can feel his cock pressing against my stomach, and I know that this is it—this is the moment where everything changes.
Without any words being spoken, he guides me toward the bed, his hands gentle but insistent as he lays me down on the cool, silk sheets. The room is filled with the sound of our breathing, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.
He climbs on top of me, his body pressing down, and for a moment, he just looks at me, his eyes dark with intensity. There’s something in his gaze that sends a shiver through me, something powerful, possessive, and yet filled with a kind of tenderness I’ve never seen before.
“You’re safe with me, Emily,” he whispers, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me, settling deep in my core. “I’ll take care of you.”
“No need to bullshit me. We both know it’s just one night.”
“I mean it.”
He lowers himself onto me. The warmth of his body envelops me, and I can’t help but sigh, the tension I’ve been carrying for so long melting away under his touch.
He moves slowly, deliberately, his hands tracing a path down my sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before his lips find mine again, claiming them in a kiss that steals the breath from my lungs. It’s a kiss that demands everything, and I find myself giving it willingly, losing myself in the taste of him, the feel of him against me.
He lowers himself onto me again, his body sliding against mine, skin to skin, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Every inch of him is warm, solid, making everything else fall away.
His hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of my hips, the dip of my waist, the swell of my breasts—like he’s memorizing every part of me.
When he finally enters me, it’s with a slow, deliberate thrust that steals the breath from my lungs. I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders, holding on as he fills me completely.
It’s overwhelming, this connection between us, and I can’t help the soft moan that escapes my lips.
“Emily,” he groans, his voice rough with need, and the sound of my name on his lips sends a thrill through me. “You feel so good.”
He sets a rhythm, slow and steady at first, each thrust deep and controlled, like he’s savoring the way our bodies move together. There’s a dominance to his movements, a confidence that makes me trust him completely, makes me want to surrender to him in every way.
But as his pace quickens, I feel the pleasure building inside me, coiling tighter with every thrust, every brush of his skin against mine.
It’s like he knows exactly what I need, exactly how to touch me to drive me to the edge, and I find myself responding to him without thinking, my body arching into his, needing more, needing everything.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice trembling with the intensity of my need, and he responds with a deep, guttural moan that sends a shiver down my spine. “Don’t stop.”
He leans down, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, “I’ve got you, Emily. Let go. Come for me.”
And I do. I let go of everything—the fear, the doubt, the weight of the world that’s been pressing down on me—and I lose myself in him. His name is a whisper on my lips as I come undone, the pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense it’s almost too much to bear.
He follows me over the edge, his movements becoming more erratic as he reaches his own climax.
His body tenses, and I feel the moment he loses control, his head dropping to my shoulder as he groans my name, his breath hot against my skin as he spurts deep inside me, his cock twitching, his body falling still.
For a long moment, we stay like that, our bodies still joined, our breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. There’s a silence between us, but it’s not empty—it’s filled with the weight of what we’ve just shared, something deeper, something more than just physical.
When he finally lifts his head, his gaze meets mine, and I see the same emotion in his eyes that I’m feeling—something that goes beyond words, something that’s real.
He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, and I smile against his mouth, feeling a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the heat of our bodies.
Then I realize something I should have realized sooner. We didn’t use protection. I’m a fucking moron. So’s he. Neither of us mentioned it.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.