Broken Rules(22)

“Take me to your hotel room!” I shout out suddenly, desperately needing to be back there with him.

I can’t face my mom like this, and I need to feel close to him again. To erase everything that just happened at Lily’s. They’ll never let him come up to my room this late. Not after my mom’s already been wary of him and my behavior all day.

I feel like I am letting her down. I promised Emmett wouldn’t hurt me and that everything would be okay, but nothing feels okay right now. In one day, I had to track down my father, was forced to take heroin, and then watched Emmett threaten to strangle Vivian before jumping on top of her myself. I’m exhausted, but somehow still writhing with energy for one thing and one thing only.

I need Emmett. Now.





10





Chapter Ten





We’re fueled on nothing but anger, frustration, and lust as I follow closely behind Emmett into his motel room. The second the door locks, I’m pushing him up against the wall with our tongues crashing together. Our hands grip around each other’s throats in desperation. I try not to think about seeing Emmett strangle Vivian or the memories of him doing the same to me. My need to push it away just rushes my hands faster over his body.

“Fuck, Ophelia,” he sighs against my lips as our hips grind together, throbbing with impatient need.

He grips into the back of my hair and pulls my head back, lifting my face up towards his, just out of reach of his lips. Suspended like that, he pushes me backwards towards the bare countertop space next to the cheap and broken TV. With his legs and his growing hard on pressing between them, he nudges me back until I am pinned against the edge before clawing too hard into my ass and hoisting me up.

We tear at each other’s clothes ferociously, and then all at once he whips me around, tears off my skirt, and presses my hands to the counter. Then I feel his hardened bulge teasing against my ass. I bob against it, wishing he could just be inside of me now. His hands finally pull at the elastic around my waist and lower them down just past my cheeks, leaving them there so that my legs are pulled together.

“Take them off, Emmett,” I beg. “Fuck me.”

“No,” he growls, gripping his hand around my neck from behind. In one swift motion, he moves his hands down before tightening them around my wrists and pinning them behind my back. With one hand holding my hands in place, the other travels across my stomach and down in between my legs, teasing my clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans into my ear. “Did you get off on that, you bad little girl? Did you get off on beating up Vivian?”

“No,” I protest weakly, not knowing what else to say. I don’t want to think I did, but here I am with greater need than I’ve ever felt before.

“You sure?” he taunts. “Maybe we should try it again and see how you feel.” As he growls into my ear, he suddenly shoves his fingers into my wet pussy, making me cry out and try to reach around for a grip of his hair. With one hard tug, he spins me back around and looks at me with a teasing hunger.

I spread my legs wider and grind my hips against him, needing to feel him inside of me so badly. He finally pushes the soaked fabric to the side and effortlessly slides his fingers into my wetness, causing me to yell out. He covers my mouth and leans in, hissing into my ear. “You have to be quiet.”

He keeps his hand there, muffling the whispers that continue to escape no matter how hard I try to suppress them. He lifts my shirt and kisses me urgently, rolling my hard nipples between his tongue and teeth. I moan out, “Fuck me, please…please.” I grind against his fingers more and more with every thrust as his thumb trails up and around my pulsating clit in soft circles. He keeps his fingers expertly bent, pushing against every place inside of me that sends out a rippling surge and ache for more. I cry out as the orgasm builds, causing him to panic and shove his hand back to my mouth.

“Please,” I beg. “I want you inside of me when I cum. I’m so close.” I begin frantically unzipping his pants, jerking them down around his thighs and pulling his boxers down immediately after. I am overcome with the urge to be filled with his hardened shaft, skin on skin. I pull his hips towards me, guiding him in as he digs into my upper thigh, hissing in my ear. He lowers his neck and lets out a roaring moan, gliding in and out of me with slow but firm thrusts. I lean back, wresting my weight on my elbows, lifting my shirt so he can see my bare breasts bouncing each time he pounds into me. He yanks up my legs, angling me perfectly so he slides in even deeper, almost more than I can stand as my legs begin to shake in his hands.

“You’re so tight,” he groans as he looks me up and down, spread out across the table.

“You like that?” I tease, circling one finger around my nipples as his eyes light up. He begins moving more urgently, growing even harder inside of me. My muscles tighten around his cock as I am pushed to the edge.

He backs up slowly with a devilish grin and sits on the edge of the bed facing me. “What are you doing?” I ask in confusion, feeling vulnerable with my panties around my thighs, standing there alone and naked.

“Hit me,” he commands.

“No!” I answer instantly, without even thinking about it. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t?” One brow raises. “Are you sure? Think about the things I’ve done to you, Ophelia. You’ve never wanted to slap me in the face?”

“I have slapped you,” I remind him, not knowing how to feel about this sudden request. I only know I don’t want to think about that side of Emmett right now.

“Do you think you did it enough?” he dares me, turning his head in invitation.

I want to resist whatever he is trying to bait me into, but I am still writhing with burning need and not thinking clearly. Whenever I am with Emmett, I try to push my bad memories of him as far away as possible. Intentionally thinking about them feels foreign and strange. But the memories never far from the surface, and I quickly find them flooding in, whether I like it or not.

“That’s it,” he encourages, noting the building fire in my eyes. “I know you’ve hated me before. Punish me for it.”

His voice drifts into an unfamiliar sound. One that belongs to the other side of him that I’ve compartmentalized. That other Emmett is the only one sitting in front of me right now.

“Be a good girl, Ophelia,” he adds with a vicious grin that sends me over the edge.

Those words. Things the new Emmett I have come to know would never say, but sadly this is the side of him that somehow pulled me in first, long before I even knew another side existed. I take several firm, decisive steps forward, my chest heaving with old anger. My hand rear backs and cracks across his cheek with a loud snap that almost startles me. The skin turns white, then bright red as his fingers lightly touch the source of pain, before he turns his face back to me with an excited smile.

His eyes burn into me and the throbbing between my legs grows. His hands bolt forward, grasping behind my thighs and yanking me forward so fast that I lose my balance and fall on top of him. He crashes back onto the bed, hoisting me up onto his hips. He lifts his ass from the bed, pushing far in between my legs with his hard and bare cock resting outside of my lips. His fingers wrap around my wrists and pin my arms behind my back once again, and he uses the grip to lift me up off of him, teasing my folds with his erection.

“Please, Emmett,” I beg him, suspended over him and at his mercy. “I want you inside of me.”

His other hand moves over his shaft. He looks at me as he hisses and strokes. “This?” he asks coyly. “Is this what you want?”

I try to struggle free and force myself down on him, but he keeps me in place. “I’m not wearing a condom,” he reminds me.

“Where are they?” I ask impatiently. “I’ll get one.”

“I don’t have any.” He grins.

I let out an exasperated groan, thinking the relief I need is surely off the table now. I want to start bitching him out for not stopping to get more on the way, but I am distracted by him pulling me down. He grips my face and urges me to take him into my mouth. I need to feel some kind of satisfaction of my own, but I will settle for driving him crazy for now.

He tries to thrust against my lips but I grip him firmly and move down to trail my tongue up and down the length of him. He murmurs against the sensation, his hips bucking and begging to feel the warmth of my mouth. I tease the tip with my tongue and bottom lip, reveling in how he’s squirming for more, breathlessly imploring me.

I can’t wait to feel some relief, feeling overwhelmed by the intimacy of the taste dripping out from him. I slide my mouth around him and run my fingers down between my legs. His eyes spark at the sight and the moans that escape my mouth at my own touch.

“Wait.” He sits up suddenly, pushing me to the side of him. “I want to watch you.” He says it as a command, not a request.

I sit next to him on the bed, perched on my knees as he watches my hand. I keep one hand gripped around him, moving up and down against the pulsing throbs that flow through him as I touch myself. My head thrashes back in cries of ecstasy as I stroke him and myself, loving the intensity of his glaring eyes. I start to feel self-conscious and vulnerable, but his excitement pushes all of that away.