Chapter 7
7
Emily
I knocked his hand away and lunged after the retreating cock. The most beautiful cock in the world.
The cock I absolutely loved having in my mouth.
Why was he depriving me? Why?
I didn’t even bother to cringe at the whine that erupted when Fletcher stopped again. And yup, I was in full pouting brat mode when I looked up at him.
Was I using the blow job as cover for a multitude of things I’d uncovered in the last hour?
Absolutely .
Exhibit A. The wall behind me.
Discovering Fletcher’s fixation had turned me on harder than a water hydrant in the middle of a heatwave.
Exhibit B. I fucking love and adore you, Emily Hartley. With every fiber of my being.
Fletcher Knight was in love with me.
And my brain couldn’t deal with it.
Soon, I hoped.
But not yet, apparently. So yes, I needed this blow job he was actively denying me.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth, baby, much as I’m dying to. But I’ve dreamt so long of having you right here, in this room where I’ve had to keep my obsession a secret, that I have to be inside you this first time. Is that okay?”
His eyes searched mine, as if now he’d admitted the crazy cakes extent of his fixation, he was terrified I would have second thoughts.
As if.
I scrambled to my feet, frantic to prove he was wrong. So wrong. That far from being worried or scared, I was elated.
Mine might be a fraction of what he’d done but it was only because I’d held myself back because I thought he might not want me. I was protecting my heart when there was absolutely zero need to.
Now it was out in the open, I was going to have so much fun going toe to toe in the obsession stakes. Starting with unleashing a few of my role-play fantasies.
“Yes, it’s okay.”
He nodded, relieved. Then, with a wicked glint in his eye, he twirled his finger.
I turned around, faced the dozens of images of myself. Whoever he’d used to take these pictures of me needed a raise. I knew it wasn’t Fletcher because I knew where he was most times, and he’d definitely not been there in that botanical garden when I had a quick lunch on Valentine’s Day. He’d been visiting his parents and I’d been missing him, badly.
And there, on my way to the airport to head home for Easter when he’d been in California, visiting his sister for the long weekend.
Definitely not that one taken by long lens when I was in my living room eating a bowl of ramen after a long day.
I felt his fingers slide between my legs, slowly stroke my pussy from behind as I stared at the pictures.
“Tell me the fantasies you had about me,” he whispered, his lips brushing the left divot in the small of my back, before he licked it.
I bit my lip, my knees already turning to liquid. “One of them was that you’d come to my apartment. Let yourself in somehow. And you’d find me wearing your shirt. You would spank me for stealing it then…then you’d fuck me.”
“Hmm, I can absolutely make that happen for you.”
I glanced over my shoulder at his bent head, at the erotic flicks of his tongue over my skin. Would he mind?
Noting giving myself a chance to talk myself out of it, I danced away from him, giggled when he protested with thick curses.
“I’ll be right back.” I sprinted from the room before I changed my mind. His closet was full of shirts. I snagged a dark navy one, spritzed his aftershave on it, then pulled it on, folding back the sleeves as I returned to the room.
Grey eyes blazed when he saw what I wore. “You look so fucking sexy, baby. I thoroughly approve.” His dick strained against his belly, beating in time to his heartbeat. “But I see your shirt, and I raise you…” He winked as his hand dropped to the table next to the leather chair.
I heard a snick, and a compartment opened. He reached in and he brought out a white silk handkerchief, then back again to reach for a second item.
My jaw dropped at the bottle of my favorite perfume cradled in his palm. He spritzed a couple sprays into the white square, and held it up and take a long, groaned-filled sniff. “My absolutely favorite scent in the world, second only to your pussy.”
By the time I manage to pick my jaw off the floor, he was laughing.
But that laughter soon cut off when, with a desperate little whimper, I climbed onto his lap and positioned his stiff cock at my core.
“Fuck,” he gritted out, one hand clamping my hip as the handkerchief dropped between us. “Emily, wait.”
“No.” I gripped the back of the chair, ready to impale myself on his fat, glorious cock. “I don’t want to wait. I need you inside me.”
Adoration warred with pained arousal on his face. “Okay, just a couple of strokes but then you need to do what I say, okay?” he pleaded, almost frantic, and with the level of my own desperation, I would agree to just about anything to have him inside me.
“Okay, yes. Just…please.”
With a thick curse, he released me, and I slammed down, screaming with pain and pleasure as my pussy stretched around his thick girth.
His low growl grew in volume, then, “Fuck!”
Head thrown back, I bounced to my delight, my little shrill yelps of delight growing, growing, growing, until— “No!”
He ignored my outraged cry as he yanked me off my ecstasy pole. But before I could give a full-throated protest, Fletcher was spinning me around, kicking my legs apart.
“This is what I want,” he breathed in my ear, grabbing my chin roughly to redirect my gaze to the walls. “Watch yourself. My gorgeous delight. My beautiful obsession. Look how lovely you are. Do you blame me for being out of my fucking mind for you?” He gripped my hips and slammed me back down on his stiff rod, and we both shouted at the burn and the pleasure. Holding me still, Fletcher fucked into me with raw purpose, unhinged words continuing to roll off his gorgeous lips. "I'm not going to stop now. You know that, don’t you? I have a full empty wall to fill. And now you’re mine, I have the right to take any kind of picture I like, don’t I?”
A garbled sound escaped me when his cock speared just right, hitting a spot that made me see stars.
“Answer me, Emily! Tell me I can.”
“S-sure…yes…y-you can—oh shit!”
My cry was in reaction to him stretching my legs even wider, draping my knees over the sides of his armchair so I was splayed wide, wider than I’d ever been in my life.
He pulled me back to rest against his chest, then he really went to town. Fucking me while one hand played with my clit and the other toyed with my nipples.
Muttering feverish words of obsession interspersed with kisses to the side of my face, my jaw, the corner of my mouth, and when finally with another cry, I turned my face, he fused his mouth to mine, our tongues playing a dirty, slurping tango as we raced towards the shining summit.
I tore my mouth away to scream through my release, so hard, so searingly hot my vision blurred, darkened, then caved in on itself before exploding in a shower of intense color.
Beneath me, Fletcher roared, his cock thickening before it pulsed hard and relentless, his cum squeezing out the confines my pussy to splash his thighs, my ass, the leather chair which would no doubt be marked with our spend.
The arms binding me tight tattooed his frantic heartbeat against my back, our breaths rushing in and out to keep us alive as we caught our breaths. As he tasted my sweat and pasted more kisses on my face and held me like I was the most precious thing in his life. “I love you, Emily. God, I fucking adore you,” he rasped in my ear.
And my heart, barely settled from my shattering, galloped faster, and I turned in his arms—barely because Fletcher wasn’t inclined to loosen his hold on me—so I could look into his insanely hot face, into eyes that speared mine with hope and adoration and fierce intent to own me. “I love you too, Fletcher. So much it scares me.”
His chest heaved, held, then shook out, his eyes glinting suspiciously before he blinked and laughed with relief and delight. “Thank fuck. I wanted to give you time to get used to all this…craziness.” He waved a hand at the room. “But I was already failing, baby.” He grimaced. “Now that I have you, I’m not going to be great at holding back. We can discuss it if it’s going to be a problem or if you?—”
My fingers on his lips stopped him. The flare of heat in his eyes right before he snatched my fingers playfully between his teeth made me laugh. “It’s not going to be a problem.” Heat crept up my face at what I was about to confess to. “I like the craziness. It’s…hot.”
His cock stirred inside me. “Yeah?”
I nodded, tucked my face in his neck as he laughed again.
“In that case, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I was frowning when he reached back into the table’s compartment and set a blue velvet box on the surface with a distinct logo etched into it.
My heart lurched.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
“Fletcher.” I wasn’t sure whether it was a plea or a warning.
“I’ve had this for four months. Ever since you slipped me that note in court telling me to ask the witness whether he was colorblind. You blew the opponent’s case wide open with a simple clever observation. I knew you were exceptional before then. But I think I accepted I was hopelessly in love with you that day.”
The memory was etched starkly into my mind. “Really? Only you seemed so mad after. I thought I’d done something wrong.”
“I was shocked, losing my mind with wanting you and knowing I couldn’t have you just yet. I wanted to scream to the world how special you are, but I was forced to keep everything bottled up inside, so yeah, that fucking pissed me off, but I was never mad at you. The opposite.”
“God. Fletcher.”
“Watch it, baby. When you sigh my name like that, I can only think of having you make more of it.”
I smile. “Fletcher,” I repeated, infusing my voice with more breathlessness.
“Fuck. Come here.”
He caught me when I stumbled into his arms. Kissed the knuckle above where his ring would very soon permanently reside. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”
“I’m already yours.”
“Fuck yes you are.” He picked up the box, opened it, took out the drop-dead stunning diamond ring and looked into my eyes. “Marry me, Emily. Be mine for the lifetimes to come.”
“Yes. Absolutely, yes!”