For a few moments, we lie on the floor. I pull out and then take Emma in my arms. We’re both covered in sweat and her juices, and I close my eyes as I inhale the intimate fragrance. My mouth opens to say something, but the curvy girl beats me to it.
“One of these days, I’m going to learn how to suck your cock,” Emma whispers. She reaches between our bodies and strokes me, just gently enough to make me jump. The idea of her plump pink lips wrapped around my member is enough to get me hard again and I get to my knees with a smirk.
“That day could be today,” I say, raising an eyebrow at her. Emma blushes.
“You have to teach me,” Emma replies. She swallows nervously and bites her lip.
Without speaking, I take her hand and guide it back to my cock. By the time she’s leaning close, I’m trembling with need. Emma dips her head to my crotch and wraps her mouth around my tip. Her lips and tongue are soft and warm and when I feel her tongue flicking against my head, I groan.
“You’re a natural,” I grunt. My eyes roll back with ecstasy as I tangle my hand in Emma’s hair and start to move her head up and down. Her technique is messy and inexperienced but there is clear passion behind it and her efforts to please me are immensely satisfying.
I take Emma’s free hand in mine and guide it to my balls. I show her how to massage them, keeping my fingers over hers until she has rhythm. It feels so heavenly that I realize I’m holding my breath just before I come.
“FUCK!” comes my roar as my fingers grip her hair tight. Emma takes my seed like a champ. She laps it up, licking her lips when she’s finished. As I look into her soft brown eyes, I feel something unlike anything I have ever felt. I still have no idea why a girl like Emma would want anything to do with a beast like me. She’s like my very own Beauty from the old story, and I’m the fucking monster.
Except I’m not keeping her here against her will.
She came to see me. She sought me out.
And why was I weak enough to cave once again?
“Damien?” When Emma speaks, her voice is soft and concerned. “What’s the matter?”
God, who is this beautiful girl, and why does she want anything to do with a creature like me?
“Nothing,” I lie. “There’s nothing wrong, sweetheart.”
Chapter Nine
Emma
This time, Damien doesn’t have to lead the way. I’m able to keep pace with him as we make our way out of the woods and back to town.
Something’s wrong. I don’t know what’s bothering him, but I can tell that there’s definitely something on Damien’s mind. But every time I ask him about it, he doesn’t reply.
“You can talk to me,” I say, offering the words like an olive branch. “I promise, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
The moon is shining high overhead in the sky and the nighttime air is chill and calm as we walk along in silence.
“Really,” I add. “Damien, I hardly even have any friends. And it’s not like I could ever— “
“Emma, enough,” Damien snaps. “Please. I don’t feel like having a conversation with you right now.”
I pout. His words sting – especially because I thought we’d been getting closer.
“Fine,” I mutter under my breath. “Don’t worry about it, then.”
Rocks and leaves crunch under my feet as I trudge along the road. By now, I recognize exactly where we are. We’re almost back to the road that leads into town, and my heart lurches when I realize that soon, it’ll be time to say goodbye.
I take a big gulp of air and swallow it nervously. I don’t want to go back to my boring life. I want to stay with Damien in his rustic little cabin, eating his stew and warming my feet by the fire.
Most of all, I want to stay in Damien’s bed. I want him to pull me into his arms and kiss me. I want him to hold me tight, all night long.
And I want his cock deep inside my pussy.
“Here we are,” Damien says gruffly. He clears his throat and stops walking.
I bite my lip and turn to him. In the moonlight, I can see the sharp angles of his cheekbones. His sapphire eyes look black.
“You’ll be fine on your own,” Damien says.
The tension between us is growing thicker with each passing second and again, I have to stifle the urge to throw my arms around his neck and crush my body to his. But the chance is slipping away, and I know I can’t do that.
I don’t have the courage to admit how I’m feeling. So I stare at Damien until he narrows his eyes.
“I don’t want to go,” I say softly. “I wish I could stay here with you.”
“Emma,” Damien says slowly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do,” I insist. “I feel safe with you, Damien. Why can’t you just believe me?”
“Because you’re too young to know what you want,” Damien growls. “And I can’t let you get hurt.”
Before I can argue, he’s slipped away into the trees like some kind of phantom. I’m left standing there alone, and I feel like the world’s biggest fool.
How could a man like Damien Evercore ever want someone like me?
Goose bumps break out over my skin and I wrap my arms around myself and hug myself tightly. Damien must still be close by, but I can’t hear him – he’s so stealthy that he’s already managed to slip off.
With a deep sigh, I shove my hands in my pockets and turn towards town. I have no idea what my parents will say when I get home, but I’m not looking forward to lying and making up excuses.
After half an hour, I reach the end of the long driveway. I’m freezing cold by now – why was I dumb enough not to bring a warm coat? Because I wanted Damien to ask me to stay, I realize unhappily.
The front door is open, and there are loud voices from the hallway. Frowning, I walk over to see my mother talking to Gina, our chef.
“Mrs. Hadley, I’m so sorry for the delay,” Gina says. She throws me an apologetic glance over my mother’s shoulder. “Dinner will be ready very soon.”
“Very good,” my mother replies. She sounds as if she doesn’t have the energy for a fight, and I feel a sudden pang of pity for her. There are dark circles under her eyes and her brown hair is tied up in a bun to hide the greasy roots.
Gina gives me a brief nod before disappearing into the kitchen and leaving me with my mother.
“Emma, where have you been?”
Before I can answer, the loud sound of a door slamming makes me jump. I gasp and cover my mouth with both hands as my father strides into the foyer.
“I’m starving,” my father grumbles. “When the fuck are we eating?”
Mom bites her lip as her cheeks turn pale. “Gina is plating our food now,” she says. “I’m sure if we head into the dining room, dinner will be ready soon.”
My father frowns at the sight of me, as if seeing me for the first time. “Fine,” he snaps. Without waiting for a response from my mother or me, he turns on his heel and stalks into the dining room.
“He’s in a mood,” Mom says quietly under her breath. “Come on, Emma. You don’t want your food to get cold.”
I reluctantly follow her into the dining room and take my seat across from Mom and next to my father. Gina brings in a tray laden with dishes and sets it down.
“Here you are, Mr. Hadley,” Gina says as she places a steaming platter in front of my father. She serves my mother, then me before turning her attention back to my father. “Is there anything else that I can get for you sir?”
“Get out,” my father snaps. “I have personal matters to discuss with my family.”
Gina ducks her head and scoots out of the dining room. As soon as the kitchen door closes, my father turns to my mother.
“Ramona, I don’t like it when my household doesn’t run smoothly,” my father growls in a low voice. “Do I need to fire the staff?”
“No,” Mom says quickly. “I’m sorry, Jason. Today was very chaotic.”
Heavenly aromas float through the air
, but I’m not hungry. All I can do is push my shrimp scampi around on the plate. My stomach is twisting and churning – being around my father always makes me feel anxious. He’s such a bully! Plus, I hate the way he talks to my mother.
“Emma, I hope your grades are better this semester,” my father says. He snorts rudely. “Emma?”
My head snaps up and I blink. “Oh, yes, they are,” I say quickly. “They’re much better, in fact. I’m getting a ‘B’ in Medieval Literature.”
My father stares at me for a moment without speaking. Just as I think he’s about to open his mouth to praise me, he narrows his eyes and glares.
“I hardly see how that’s an improvement,” he replies. “Medieval Literature? Why the hell would you even sign up for a class like that in the first place? It sounds like a goddamn waste of time.”
I pause, hurt.
“It’s for my major,” I say in a small voice. “I needed an elective.”
“Do you know how much I’m paying for your schooling?” My father snorts in disgust and shakes his head. “And you’re throwing it away on useless bullshit? Why the hell aren’t you taking business classes? Or something with a little more substance?”
“I’ll do better,” I say miserably as I look down at my untouched plate of shrimp and pasta. “I’m sorry.”
“You’d damn well better,” my father replies. He spears a huge forkful of shrimp and wolfs it down without even chewing. The sight is enough to make me queasy. Shrimp scampi has always been one of my favorite meals but watching the way my father eats is nauseating. He’s practically inhaling it like an alien getting a hit of blood.
“Emma?” I look up to see my mother glancing at me with concern. “Are you all right?”
I look down at my plate and suppress a powerful wave of nausea. “I’m not hungry,” I say. “Is it okay if I go upstairs? Finals are coming up and I need to study.”
“Let her go,” my father barks before Mom can answer. “It wouldn’t kill her to miss a meal or two seeing how round she is.”
My cheeks redden in embarrassment but honestly, I’m just glad to leave the table. I stand and walk out of the dining room before darting up the stairs and locking myself in my room. As soon as I’m alone, I flop down on the bed. I feel dizzy and breathless. Even though I’ve only been home for an hour or so, it feels like an eternity.
I wonder what Damien is doing right now. Frowning, I roll onto my belly and bury my face in the pillows. If I concentrate hard, I can still taste him. The salty, musky flavor of his skin. The scent of wood smoke in his hair and beard. It makes me feel better to think of Damien in fact. At least someone wants me in this world.
And just thinking about the man is enough to make me wet. I lick my lips and roll onto my back, staring at the pristine white ceiling. I know that I should get up and start working soon but with Damien on my mind, work seems impossible. How the heck am I supposed to concentrate on studying when I can still feel his cum trickling out of my body?
With a heavy sigh, I sit up. The blood rushes to my head and I rub my forehead. I wish that I could just go to sleep and forget about everything other than Damien. Heck, I wish I could drop out of school and go live in the woods with the wild man who has captured my interest.
I get to my feet and reluctantly trudge across the room to my desk. My laptop is sitting there, next to all of my books, and I stare at it for a moment in hopes that the sight will inspire some kind of scholarly passion. But all I feel is a complete lack of motivation – if anything, I’m exhausted.
“Maybe I should take a nap,” I muse aloud, gnawing at the inside of my cheek. My bed does look nice and comfy and inviting – the only thing missing is Damien Evercore. But just as I’m slipping out of my clothes, there’s a knock at the door.
Grabbing a bathrobe, I wrap it around my curves and open the door. My mother is standing there and she’s holding a freshly-baked platter of chocolate cookies.
My favorite.
“That looks good,” I mutter.
Ramona smiles.
“I wish I could take credit but Gina whipped them up while your father and I were eating,” she replies. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I step back from the door and Mom walks in, gently closing the door behind her.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she says. She looks over to my desk and frowns. “Were you getting a lot of work done?”
“To be honest, not really,” I sigh. I reach for a cookie and take a big bite, savoring the way the chocolate melts over my tongue. Something about eating sweets has always made me feel better when I’m down, which is probably why I’ve been shopping in the plus-size section since the age of twelve. It wasn’t fun going into the store and having the saleslady look you up and down before directing you to the Women’s Section – when you’re not even a teenager yet.
But Ramona’s always indulged my sweet tooth. “It’s okay,” she says. “I won’t tell Daddy.” She takes a cookie and bites down before chewing thoughtfully. “How are you doing, sweetie?”
What should I say? Um, I’ve been sneaking out to have sex with a hermit who lives in the woods? He’s super hot and he makes my pussy cream so hard? So of course, I lie.
“I’m fine,” is my murmur. “I’m just worried about finals.” That, at least, isn’t a lie. Unless some miracle happens, there’s no way I’ll be making the Dean’s List this semester.
Ramona gives me a sympathetic smile. It’s funny – we haven’t always had the best relationship, but I still love her more than anything else in the world. Deep down, I know my mother is a kind person. But the way she lets my father steamroll her is always hard to watch.
“You’ll be fine with school, sweetheart. And don’t listen to Daddy about taking business courses. You need to follow your heart, so if Medieval Literature is what makes you happy, then take it and have fun,” she soothes. “Plus, don’t listen to your dad about your weight,” she adds. “I had Gina box up your plate and leave it in the fridge, so you can have a snack later if you want.”
“Thanks.” I take another cookie and eat the whole thing in one bite. “I know you’re probably judging me right now,” I add softly.
“Honey, why would I judge you?” Mom asks quietly. “You know how much I love you. You’re my only daughter.”
I look down at the way my belly bulges under the bathrobe and flush. “I know you think I eat too much.”
“I don’t,” Mom says firmly. “Your father has outdated ideas about how he feels women should look. But you’re beautiful at any size, Emma, and I want you to know that.”
I stare at her. Now that we’re alone, I can tell that she’s being honest. Or at least, I can believe that she believes she’s being honest. But deep down, I can feel her disapproval of my size. After all, who wants a daughter who looks like a whale? It sucks, for me most of all. I don’t like having to wear clothes that resemble tents, and I hate summer because of how my thighs feel when they rub together.
I’ve never felt beautiful. Or rather, I had never felt beautiful until Damien took me in his arms and kissed me.
Ramona breaks the silence.
“You’ve been disappearing a lot,” Mom says. She clears her throat and settles down on my bed, leaving the plate of cookies on my lap. “Where have you been going, anyway?”
I frown. “Nowhere,” I lie. “I mean, I’ve just been going for long walks in the woods. It’s a good way to clear your head.”
Mom chuckles. She reaches for a cookie and breaks off a crumb with her fingers. “That doesn’t sound like you, honey,” she says. “I know how much you hate the outdoors.”
I point toward my muddy pink sneakers. “I don’t! I bought those a few weeks ago,” is my defensive explanation. “A guy at school asked me to go hiking.”
Mom nods. She actually looks impressed and for a moment I think I’ve gotten away with my lie. But then she narrows her eyes. “That sounds like it could be dangerous, Emma. I mean, you shouldn’t b
e doing this kind of stuff alone. You could slip and fall and break something!”
I shrug. “I’m pretty careful,” I reply. “Besides, there are people who live in the woods. I’m sure that someone would help me if something happened.”
I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. My mom looks horrified, like I’ve just informed her that I’ll be joining the circus and shaving my head.
“Emma!” Mom drops the fragment of cookie. “That’s even worse! You don’t know what kind of crazy people live out there!”
“You’re right,” I say in a quick effort to pacify her. “I didn’t mean that I’d met any of them or anything like that. I just…um, well, I know they’re there.”
Mom shakes her head. “Honestly, Emma, why don’t you just let me call my trainer? I’m sure we could find someone great for you to work with.”
“No, no, it’s really okay,” I say. “It has nothing to do with my weight. I’m just getting some fresh air.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Mom says. She’s still frowning, but I know that she’s not angry. “I’m just worried about you, honey. That’s all.” She gives me a sad smile and I feel the burn of guilt almost like a brand on my skin.
I know that even though we’re wealthy, my mom is unhappy. Sure, Ramona has everything she could ever want but she’s also married to my father, and now that I’ve grown up I know that she’s lonely. She has charity friends, but no real close girlfriend in the world. Because even diamonds and pearls aren’t enough for a satisfying life. My mom has been beaten down by my dad in so many subtle ways over the years that she’s merely a shadow of the woman she once was.
Pity washes me over then.
“I’ll be fine,” I say encouragingly. I reach for her hand and lace my fingers with hers before squeezing. “Don’t worry about me, Mom. I promise that everything is going to be okay. You take care of yourself, okay?”
Mom gets to her feet and nods. “I know, honey. But you can’t blame me for worrying about you,” she says. “That’s just what mothers do.”
His Filthy Game: A Romance Compilation Page 23