Chapter 20
EMRIS
Brielle stands there, not quite sure what to do after the shit that just happened.
Fucking Troy and his bullshit.
I lean back in the chair, my eyes never leaving the fire pit as I think about how much I want to pull her onto my lap and show her that she is, indeed, mine.
I don’t give a shit what she thinks. What he thinks.
What anyone fucking thinks. Brielle is mine.
Now and forever. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Or maybe she does and is doing what any logical person in her position would do.
“Come here,” I demand, and her eyes snap to mine. I can see a sassy remark waiting at the tip of her tongue, but to my surprise, she keeps her mouth shut and comes closer—willingly. When she’s inches from me, I grip her hips and pull her on top of my lap until her thighs straddle my waist.
“I wouldn’t have had you come down if I knew Troy would’ve done something like that.
The mere sight of his hand on you...” I take a deep breath, moving my hands to her thighs and squeezing until she gasps.
“He’s lucky I stopped myself.” I never want to see anyone else’s hands on her ever again.
My mind goes over every second of what happened.
I should’ve fucking killed him where he stood for touching what was mine.
Even if he didn’t know, he shouldn’t be touching women like that.
“It’s okay.” Her hands rest on the armrests, but she slowly reaches forward, only hesitating slightly before her hands grip my shoulders.
I pull her impossibly closer, and she lets out a breath as I grind her down onto my erection, her body fitting on top of me perfectly. My eyes roll back as I hold her there, desperately wanting to sink inside of her instead, but if this is what she will give, then it’ll be enough.
I’d never rush her.
“It’s not okay. Troy needed to know that you aren’t up for grabs.
You’re mine, and now he knows it. I just wish I’d told them earlier without any kind of fight.
If I did, he wouldn’t have touched you and made you feel uncomfortable.
” I take a deep breath, trying to ground myself so I don’t go find Troy again and finish him the right way.
But the feeling of her on top of me, her hands roaming over my shoulders, has my eyes opening and my cock growing harder.
“Thank you,” her voice is small, almost silent.
“For what?”
“For making me feel safe.” The second the words leave her lips, she tries to look away as if embarrassed by her words. This proves that I’m melting her hard shell. That she’s starting to see how great we can be together.
She’s here. On top of me, my hard length pressed against her core.
Not Troy’s.
Not anyone else’s.
She’s fucking mine.
I had no intention of continuing anything, but then her hips move on their own, circling herself as my cock rubs against her clothed center.
I keep my hands on her hips and help guide her before reaching up.
I wrap my hand around the nape of her neck and pull her closer so my mouth is aligned with her ear.
She tries to pull back, but I keep her in place.
“I never want to see another man’s hands on you again.” She doesn’t say anything, but her body relaxes into mine, and I smirk against her skin. My lips press against her neck before I lightly bite into it, wanting to mark her for everyone to see.
“Are you wet for me, baby?” She shakes her head no, clearly not trusting her words. “Good girls don’t lie, Brielle. Are you wet?” My hand snakes lower, and her body trembles slightly, like she’s trying to fight her feelings.
“Fuck you, Emris.” Ahh, the spitfire is back. I got her right where I want her now. She hates to think that she could have feelings for me—that me keeping her was the worst possible thing that could happen, but she has no idea how unsafe things really are out in the world.
I just want to protect her.
“That can be arranged. All you have to do is say the word, and I can have that pussy wrapped around my cock and have you begging for more in less than thirty seconds.” My fingers edge the hem of her jeans and slowly move lower inside until I can feel the soft lace material of her panties. Ones I bought for her.
The memory of us at the store with my face buried between her thighs makes me groan with need. She tasted like a fucking dessert, nothing I could ever get enough of.
She’s so clueless about the power she holds over me already.
The fire in front of us crackles and spits little sparks into the air. The later it gets, the cooler the breeze becomes. I lean back in the chair, leaving a small amount of space between us to look at her. Her eyes are blown, and her skin is pebbled from the cool air.
“Tell me you want this,” I say, running my fingers along the material of her panties. “We stop when you want. We go as far as you want. Whatever you need, Brielle.” I know I sound fucking desperate, but for her, how can I not be?
“Touch me.” Her words come out only moments later, and I don’t waste any time.
My lips press to hers, and everything else melts away.
All the problems I have to fix, all the shit with Troy.
Everything disappears, and I put my all into this moment with her because there’s a chance she’ll regret this in the morning.
As our lips stay connected, I move her panties to the side, feeling all the wetness between her thighs.
God, I could stay like this forever if she’d let me.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” She bites her lip, trying to hold the moan in as the tips of my fingers move through the wetness of her center. “You’re so beautiful, Brielle. So fucking perfect.”
“Emris,” she pants as the tip of my finger enters her, but before I can do anything else, Brielle pushes my chest and stands, almost falling to the dirt but catching herself at the last minute. Her eyes dart around, as if looking for somewhere to go.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, genuinely confused as I push up from the chair, desperately wanting to know what the hell happened.
“I—we can’t do this,” is all she says as she turns and runs into the house, the door slamming closed behind her.
I stand there, running a hand through my hair, wondering what the fuck just happened.