by L. D. Davis
Emmet squeezed my ass again and grinded against me. He groaned and then suddenly released me and rolled onto his back. Relieved and disappointed, I fell onto my back, too.
“I should go home,” I said.
“You should stay,” he said and hooked his pinky with mine.
I snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Seriously,” he said. “Sleep in Luce’s room like you normally do, or Emmy’s. Or…” Quickly, before I could register what he was doing, he rolled on top of me. He straddled my legs and leaned over me, trapping me beneath his body. “You can stay here. In my bed.”
His words sent warmth between my legs and my breath hitched ever so slightly.
“You know I can’t do that,” I whispered.
“Yes, you can,” he whispered back and left a soft kiss on my lips. “Please, stay.” He kissed me again, but a little longer this time.
“Emmet,” I sighed. I wanted to tell him no, but I had a romantic image in my head of falling asleep in his arms as the stars came out and waking up in his arms as the sun rose in the sky.
“How many opportunities will we have like this?” he asked.
None, I knew. Fred would be back the next day and we didn’t know for sure if he would be out of town again, and soon Emmy and Sam would be back and Emmet would be gone.
Emmet will be gone.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll stay.”
His smile melted me and I completely forgot the anguish I had felt earlier in the day. I reached up and put my hands on his face and pulled him down for a kiss. The kiss was light and flirty at first. We chuckled and giggled as we teased each other with our lips and tried to nip each other with our teeth. I tried to tickle his side and he succeeded in finding a ticklish spot right under my arm. When I tried to fight him as I laughed, he wrapped his hands around my wrists and pressed my arms down above my head.
“Oh, now what will you do?” he teased and managed to hold my wrists in one hand while he tickled me with his other hand. “You should have never started this tickle fight, Donya.”
I laughed and squirmed as he tortured me. He took great satisfaction in my helplessness. I begged him to stop and after another minute he finally did. I felt my shirt hiked up over my belly button and he must have noticed it at the same time. He looked down and saw my bare stomach and his playful grin turned into a heated smile. He dragged his hand down my side and over my bare skin. Caressing my belly, Emmet leaned down and kissed me. There was nothing playful or soft in this kiss. It was hard and demanding.
As he kissed me, his hand moved under my shirt. His fingertips came in contact with my bra and then stopped. He breathed a little heavier as he kissed me, as if not touching me any further was taking a tremendous amount of energy. I tried to release my wrists from his hands, but he growled low in his throat and his grip tightened as he simultaneously cupped my breast. When his thumb moved over a hard peak I groaned loudly and absent mindedly lifted my hips off of the bed.
Emmet stretched out over me and settled his body on mine. He released my wrists and kissed me along my jaw as his free hand joined his other hand under my shirt. I stared up at the ceiling as his kisses continued to my neck. His tongue tasted my skin as his hands rubbed the aching tips of my breasts. I didn’t recognize the mewling sounds coming out of my mouth.
I put my hands on Emmet’s shoulders with the intent of making him stop, but when I felt his hair between my fingers, I realized how powerless I was to stop him. My hands pressed gently on his head as he suckled on my neck and I arched my back slightly, pushing my breasts into his hands. Even as I wrapped one leg around one of his, I knew I needed to push him away. When Emmet suddenly pulled away from me and sat up on his knees, straddling me once again, I should have taken that opportunity to make this stop.
His hands tugged at the hem of my shirt. I sat up, fully intending to end this, but quickly complied in taking off my shirt. Emmet laid back down over me and kissed me hard while he continued to touch me in ways I should have objected to. His lips left mine again as my eyes stared up at the ceiling again. I should have spoken up, but when my lips parted, I only groaned as he again suckled on my skin.
When one of Emmet’s hands drifted away from my chest and began to migrate south, I didn’t stop him. He angled his body so that he was not directly on top of me, giving his hand the space it needed to explore. His fingers edged just under the waistband of my shorts, moving slowly back and forth, from hip bone to hip bone. I soon felt the button release on my jean shorts and heard the zipper as he pulled it down. When my shorts were open, Emmet looked me in the eyes and pushed his hand into my shorts and under my underwear and pressed his palm down on the swollen button that had been waiting for his touch.
Emmet stared at me heatedly as he palmed me. I pushed my hips up, increasing the pressure and friction as my mouth made more noises I was unfamiliar with. I stared in Emmet’s eyes as I began to feel pressure building inside of me. I squirmed and mumbled incoherent words as the pressure increased at an alarming rate. Emmet rubbed me faster and harder and moaned, which I couldn’t understand because I was the one being touched, but he seemed to be enjoying it just as much as me.
“Emmet,” I gasped, gripping his shoulders. I was suddenly afraid of what I was feeling. I wasn’t stupid. I knew I was on the verge of my first orgasm – again – but I had no idea how I would look or how my body would react, or if it would please him.
“It’s okay,” he said in a surprisingly comforting tone. “Don’t fight it.”
So, I didn’t.
“Emmet!” I cried out his name as the most incredible sensations attacked the moist flesh beneath Emmet’s hand. I dug my nails into his shoulders and bucked my hips into his firm hand. My toes pointed to the end of the bed and then curled and pointed again and curled again. I tried unsuccessfully to close my legs around his hand even as he continued to rub me.
I screamed, shuddered, and fell back against the pillows. Emmet pulled his hand out of my underwear and softly kissed the corner of my heavily breathing mouth. Though I felt him hard against my leg, he didn’t try to get back on top of me. He simply wrapped his arms around me, kissed my forehead, and then we both slept.
Chapter Thirteen
It was a little after seven that night when I woke up ravenous and amazingly relaxed. Though my stomach growled, my muscles and limbs felt ridiculously pliable. After kissing Emmet for a few minutes longer than my hungry belly could take, I escaped from his bed and ran from his grasp and jogged downstairs to the kitchen in search of food. Emmet wanted to make me dinner. Like his mother, he was capable of cooking great food, but since the family had been gone all summer, there wasn’t much in the refrigerator to work with.
“We can order take-out,” he suggested.
“I’m starving,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t wait for take-out. Can you drive us somewhere?”
“Sure,” he said and grinned when he looked at my hair and my clothes.
I put a hand in my hair and knew that it was probably wild from being in bed all day, but I didn’t really care. Emmet had seen me first thing in the morning on countless occasions, but when I looked down I realized I was still shirtless and my shorts were still unbuttoned. Memories of why I was wearing less clothing made my cheeks warm with embarrassment. I averted his eyes and crossed my arms self-consciously across my breasts.
“Come on, beautiful,” he said holding out his hand to me. “Let’s get some clothes on you.”
I took his hand and allowed him to lead me back upstairs. When I started searching the floor and bed for my shirt, Emmet handed me one of his instead. It was a button down blue short-sleeved shirt. I looked at him questioningly for a moment before taking it from him and slipping it over my head. It was long on me, giving the illusion that I didn’t have anything on under it.
“I like that,” he said with a wink as he slipped his feet into a pair of sneakers.
I slipped on my flip flops, put my hand in his and we went
to his car. I was glad it was parked in the garage. Though the neighbors weren’t very close in this neighborhood, if any of them spotted us coming out of the house together looking like we had spent all day in bed (which we had, but they didn’t need to know that), I was sure someone would say something to Fred or Sam.
We made a quick trip to a Burger King and returned to the house. We bought entirely too much food for two people. We sat down side by side in the kitchen, but I had turned my chair to the side and put my legs up on his lap, just because I could. Emmet ate with one hand and caressed my bare skin with his other. Mostly he stayed below the knee, but sometimes he would venture further up my leg and under the long shirt. Sometimes when he looked at me, I knew he was thinking about what he had done to me earlier in the day.
“I really like you in my shirt,” he said, tracing small circles just above my knee. “I want you to keep it.”
I pulled the shirt up to my nose and inhaled. “It smells like you.”
“Good. My pillows smell like you,” he smiled.
His eyes fell to my legs as his hand smoothed over my thigh. I unconsciously pressed my thighs together as shocking sensations traveled up my leg and settled between my legs. Emmet’s green eyes looked into my eyes knowingly as a small, sexy smile appeared on his lips.
“I can’t stop touching you,” he murmured as his hands drifted ever higher. His fingertips were reaching under my shorts now.
“So, don’t stop,” I heard myself say in a breathy voice and could hardly believe it.
He gave me a look that should have scared me, but it thrilled me. He threw his fries down and took my milkshake from my hands and put it on the table. He pushed my legs off of him and stood up. Without asking, he took my hand, pulled me out of the chair and lead me through the house and back upstairs to his bedroom.
I had to question my sanity as he positioned me in front of the bed and kissed me. I knew this was going to lead to more third base action, but I didn’t want to stop him, though I knew I should. Even as his hands reached under the shirt to undo my shorts again, I knew I should have pulled away, but instead, a moment later my shorts were falling to the floor at my feet and I was stepping out of them.
Nervous, with a hard beating heart, by Emmet’s guidance I got on the bed and laid back on the pillows. I watched, biting my bottom lip as he pulled off his shirt, revealing a nicely toned chest and abs that would only become more defined as he got older. He kicked his sneakers off and got into bed on his side beside me. He rested his hand on my rapidly rising and falling chest.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “If you want me to stop at any time I will, okay?”
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
“I can stop now, if you want,” he suggested. “I love you, but we don’t have to do anything but lay here and watch television. Do you want me to stop?”
Did I want him to stop? The sensible part of me definitely thought we should stop. What if we went too far? Was I ready to lose my virginity? Was I even ready for more third base action? My sensible side said no, but my body ached for his touch. Though his hand on my chest was nonsexual, my breasts swelled in need of his touch and I couldn’t escape the thought of his hand in my panties earlier in the day and how I had felt.
I shook my head no.
Emmet smiled and brought his lips to mine. His hand slid down and answered the needs of my nipples and I gasped. As he manipulated my nipples through the shirt, my legs crossed and squeezed as that pressure built. He pulled away from the kiss and began to unbutton the shirt with one hand.
“I feel like I’m unwrapping a present,” he said with a sexy smile.
When the shirt fell open, revealing me clad in my bra and panties, Emmet groaned as his eyes traveled over my body.
“You are and always have been the most beautiful girl I know,” he said as his fingers trailed between my breasts, over my tummy and stopped at the top of my panties before retracing their path.
“Yeah, right,” I said, rolling my eyes. I knew I was a good looking girl, but I’d seen the other girls Emmet had been with. They were all well-endowed. I wasn’t flat chested, but my boobs weren’t big and bouncy either.
“Hey,” he said, putting fingers under my chin and making me look at him. “You are the most beautiful girl I know or have ever seen.”
I looked at him with doubt before looking down at my chest. He looked, too. He cupped a breast in his hand and kneaded.
“You fit perfectly in my hand,” he said with a groan. With one handed skill, he unhooked my bra.
I tried to cover my face, embarrassed by my nakedness in front of him, but he took my hand away.
“You’re perfect, Donya,” he said seriously. “Don’t ever doubt it.”
He put his hand on my bare breast and I gasped and moaned as he pulled the nipple between his fingers. Emmet groaned, too and pressed himself against my hip. I could hardly believe I was lying mostly naked on Emmet’s bed with him fondling me, turning me on and making me moan. When he looked me in the eyes as his head moved towards my breasts, I began to believe that the real Donya had exited the building and I was an imposter, because I didn’t stop him. I watched with fascination and licked my lips as his tongue flattened against my nipple. I groaned as I watched him repeat the action twice more before pulling the bud between his teeth.
“Oh, god!” I cried and my head fell back.
Once again I stared up at the ceiling as Emmet suckled me and tugged at the other nipple to give it proper attention. My fingers wound in his hair and I held him to me. I didn’t want him to stop – or Imposter Donya didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him to suck harder, so she said it.
“Suck harder,” I – she – panted, staring into his green eyes.
Emmet growled with pleasure and granted my request and sucked with such force that I cried out in pain. He looked at me with questioning eyes but did not stop, because I had not told him to. When I still did not stop him, his teeth sank into the sensitive peak and I screamed as an unexpected, sudden orgasm slammed into me. My back arched, my hips rose off of the bed, and I squeezed my thighs together trying to drawl the orgasm out, as it was already beginning to die. Then Emmet’s hand was on my thighs, forcing them apart. Sensing time was of the essence; he cupped my sex through my shorts and rubbed, hard.
I shuddered and writhed and once again made sounds that I did not recognize. My whole body was over sensitized and my orgasm seemed to go on and on. I couldn’t take any more, but he seemed to sense that, too and pulled away from my body. I shuddered violently as my breaths came out uneven and ragged. I was completely caught up in my orgasmic haze and didn’t immediately register Emmet pulling off my panties.
The haze lifted a little and for a moment I was able to think clearly and again ask myself if this was something I wanted. Imposter Donya was all for it, but Sensible Donya told me to think hard about it, because there was no returning once it was done. The moment I felt Emmet’s fingers sliding through my vaginal lips, the haze returned in full force and I was once again arching off of the bed.
“Oh my god,” Emmet said in wonder. He was beside me again, looking down to where his fingers trailed over my sex. “You’re wet,” he said in awe. “I’ve never seen anyone so wet before.”
My cheeks blazed with embarrassment. Was I abnormally wet? Was that gross? Being wet to begin with sounds gross, but was I extra gross? The fact that he alluded to the other girls he slept with had not missed my mind, but I started to wonder if they had set expectations that I could not meet.
Emmet looked at my face and saw the concern there under the lust.
“I like it,” he whispered to me and planted a small kiss on my lips. “I like that you’re so wet. I know it’s for me.”
He groaned softly as he swiped his fingers between my lips again. He held them up against the light where they glistened with my moisture. I looked away embarrassed.
“I fucking love it. Look at it, Donya,” he commanded.
<
br /> Reluctantly, I looked at his fingers.
“This is just on the outside,” he murmured and then looked me in the eyes. “I wonder how wet you are inside.”
I was looking at him when he said that. Even though I saw his hand go back down out of my peripheral vision, I did not know what he was doing until he was doing it.
“Oh my god,” I whimpered as I felt one of Emmet’s fingers slide inside of my virginal tunnel.
Emmet groaned again as he continued to hold my gaze and swirled his finger in a slow circle. It was just one finger, but I felt invaded. My walls involuntarily squeezed his finger.
“You are so snug,” Emmet whispered. “So warm and wet and perfect.”
He pulled his finger out of me and held it up for re-inspection. I was definitely moister on the inside as he had suspected. I was surprised when Emmet looked down at me with a bashful expression. What did he have to be embarrassed about? It wasn’t his body fluids on his fingers…
“I’ve never wanted to taste anyone before,” he said shyly and then whispered. “I want to taste you.”
My eyes exploded out of my skull as I looked at him. My mouth had fallen open so wide, I was sure he could see every tooth in my mouth.
That one statement brought Sensible Donya back. I don’t know why. Maybe it was how deeply erotic his words were, and because it was only a brief glimpse of what the rest of the night entailed. Imposter Donya tried to hang on to the lust and even licked her lips as Emmet licked his finger and smiled down at her, like maybe she was thinking of tasting herself on his lips!
Nuh-uh, Sensible Donya said. Sensible Donya asked me why, after all of my fighting about not being ready for sex, I was on my back with my shirt and bra hanging open and no bottoms on. She wanted to know why my so-called boyfriend agreed not that long ago that I wasn’t ready for sex, but he just licked my juices off of his finger. Sensible Donya reminded me that Emmet wasn’t a virgin and questioned whether or not he had any real intentions of waiting to begin with. She wondered if Emmet was going to get what he wanted and then walk away. It didn’t matter how well or how long he and I knew each other. Sensible Donya wasn’t sure if Emmet’s actions were actions of love or actions of pure teenage-boy horniness.