Emmaās POV
The flames surged againānot warmth, but fire roaring from somewhere deep beneath
my
stomach. Heat coiled like molten metal, thick and aching, demanding the oblivion
heād
only hinted at before. Now it screamed.
His
waistband was tight under my grip, my knuckles white.
This was really happening. Years of hidden glances, midnight fantasiesāa lifetime of wanting Peterāand now his hands were on my hips, his breath warm against my skin. It felt unreal, like stepping into a dream Iād been too afraid to ever fully imagine.
But thenāabruptlyāhe stopped. He dropped to his knees.
The thud was heavy, metallic against the carpet, startling in the sudden silence. A small cry escaped
my
throatāsurprise? Disbelief? That this man, this
Peter
, was kneeling before
me
? Everything just... stopped.
His
eyes. Even in the dimness, they burned, glowing fiercely amber-yellow. Not just light...
hunger
. Ancient, devouring. And that look... it wasnāt the gentle admiration Iād pictured. It was possession. Raw. Primal. As if after all this time, heād finally decided to claim what was his. It stole my breath.
My
possession.
His
gaze locked between
my
thighs, the intensity visceral. My own lips parted unconsciously, my vision stunnedāfixed on
him
. He was really looking. The sheer intimacy of it, the way his eyes devoured a part of me no one had ever seen, sent a jolt of pure electric terror through me.
I froze. Instinct took overā
my
hands flew forward, trying to cover myself. Shame sliced through the raw hunger
he
could feel radiating from
me
, just for a half-second.
This was too new. Too exposed. The innocence Iād guarded so fiercely felt suddenly flayed open.
Before
my
fingers could even obscure
his
view,
he
shook
his
head. It was almost imperceptible, but it radiated pure command. One sharp gesture:
Stop. Do not.
His
voice cut through the stillness, dark velvet layered over something heavier, like silk hiding a blade.
"Move them, sweetness?"
he
asked, conversationally laced with velvet darkness. That low tone, a voice Iād heard tease and command a thousand times, now wrapped around an order that shook me to my core.
I hesitated, trapped between mortification and an arousal that screamed for
him
to see, to possess what
Iād
never willingly shown to anyone... until
my
hands fell nervelessly away. Surrendering felt like stepping off a cliff into terrifying, exhilarating air.
Then, sensation ignited
for me
. Like nothing Iād ever imagined. Like a live wire scorching over oversensitive skin.
His
touch slid down
my
inner thigh to
my
knee, parting
me
with absolute dominance.
His
hands gripped possessively, spreadingāfinally, uncooperinglyā
my
legs apart beneath
his
command, like a sculptor molding flesh to
his
will.
T
he sheer strength in those hands, the casual way he positioned my body exactly as he wanted it, was overwhelming.
He was so
sure
, and I was completely lost.
That exposure... complete vulnerability. Utterly terrifying. I felt utterly naked, not just physically, but soul-deep. Every secret yearning, every stolen look, laid bare before him. Yet, it was thrilling beyond all limits.
A single, wet bead traced slowly downward from
my
glistening entrance. I could feel it and his eyes on it.
His
hungry eyes worshiped it, staring as if it were an altar offering meant to be devoured.
The reverence in his gaze was almost as potent as the touch itself. Then... just a slow lick, right there, along the delicate folds. Contact. Heat. Wetness. My entire world narrowed to that one point of impossible sensation. My back arched violently, a gasp tearing from
me
as
my
whole spine jolted upright. It felt like lightning
striking
water.
I jammed
my
own fingers against
my
mouth, muffling the cry,
my
eyes squeezing shut, terrified someone would hear, would discover this stolen, unbelievable night.
Then: another wet lap. Slow, shockingly possessive,
his
flat tongue dragging straight up the seam to the tight bundle beneath its hood. Once around it... deliberately... twice... Every movement was a revelation. A language my body understood instantly, but my mind reeled to comprehend.
More intense than any dream of him I have had for years, more real than any touch Iād ever given myself.
Fire
exploded
within
me
. Liquid wildfire flooded
my
pelvis, an unexpected force that made
my
toes curl tight against the bed.
This was...
this
was the peak? This fire, this unstoppable wave?
It was terrifying in its power, unlike anything Iād ever felt. A whimper caught painfully behind
my
bitten knuckles; silent tears streamed down
my
face. Tears of pure, overwhelming sensation. Of disbelief that this was finally happening, and that it was
Peter
undoing me so completely.
"Easy for me to taste now? Iāll show you heavenās threshold itself, big sister..." The words, that forbidden nameā
big sister
āsent another terrifying thrill through
me
.
The name, once familiar teasing, now twisted into something dark, forbidden, and sinfully exciting. We werenāt that anymore,
I
screamed silently inside. That illicit height added a deeper wave that crashed relentlessly, nearly blinding
me
. The taboo was gasoline on the fire.
"Quiet, sweetness..."
His
voice vibrated over
my
exposed flesh, sending aftershocks through the oversensitive bundle
he
teased. Now,
he
added rhythmic flicksāfast, unrelenting, directly on the epicenter.
It was too much. Too intense. Too
new
. My body didnāt know how to process this concentrated pleasure.
My
vision narrowed, focused inward on the crushing liquid release building unstoppable.
I trembled, muscles locking in violent anticipation.
He
moved like the master
he
was, sensing every tremor. He knew my body better than I did.
He
alternated between relentless attack and retreating gently, tracing around the entrance, feeling that near-breaking point just beyond.
My
hips moved without command, grinding upward, craving more,
please NOW
, while ragged hitches escaped
my
breath. My body was acting on pure instinct, driven by a force I couldnāt name, chasing an oblivion only he seemed able to grant.
My
mind shattered.
Oh GOD Peter YES, more moreā
Then terror jolted through
me
āpanic. Doors. A sound in the hallway. The hallway light turning on. Then darkness again. Silence. The intrusion of the outside world was a brutal splash of cold water. It was too close. A fraction off safety.
The risk magnified everything. The fear of discovery warred with the terror of
stopping
, of being left hanging on this unbearable edge
Peter
had built.
Even as
my
hands flew from
my
mouth, desperate to grasp the headboard,
his
large, deliberate hand smothered
my
gasps into oblivion.
His
mouth and hand covered
me
,
his
onslaught redoublingāfiercer now, demandingāknowing
I
could barely keep silent while
he
drank, knowing
my
breaking point was coming whether anyone stood there or not.
My
fingers flexed tight around the headboard, white-knuckled, fighting the need to scream
his
name.
He
took the swollen pearl between skilled lips, finding a possessive rhythm, sucking, claiming
me
.
The suction, the deliberate rhythm, felt like he was drawing out my very soul. Wet slick heat poured from
me
, shameless evidence into
his
consuming kiss. The world shrank for
me
to that single point of sensation. My awareness dissolved. There was only the fire, the pressure, the terrifying intensity building deep inside.
My
body locked rigid, vibrating on the unbearable verge... snapping... but it didnāt.
Yet
.
He
sensed it, relented, easing back to the razorās edge.
He
knew
Iād
endured too long.
He
would reward
my
waiting soon;
he
felt the pulsion in
my
tense muscles. But the door outside creaked again.
Hold...
my
mind whispered, praying.
Please... donāt. Donāt stop.
Panic clawed at me.
Please, Peter, donāt stop now!
I need this. I need
you
.
Peter
heard it in
my
locked limbs, in the desperate thrum of
my
pulse against
his
eager tongueā
my
silent prayer written in body language:
Donāt. Fucking. Stop.
And
he
rewarded
my
courage under fire, for the forbidden flames rising within: pressure renewed, harder, deeper, until... I exploded in a silent scream muffled against
his
skin and muscle.
The world fractured. Shattered. Pure, liquid fire consumed me from the inside out, a release so powerful it felt like annihilation and rebirth in the same breath.
He
swallowed every pulse
I
offered, silently, until the release stopped, only
my
thighs shaking softly beneath
him
.
He
looked up at
my
beautiful, undone face. Hunger. Sated. I lay utterly spent, boneless, my mind reeling.
That
was what Iād been missing? What
he
could do? It was unbelievable.
Evident glory. Worship paid. Virgin sacrifice wasnāt just accepted; it was devoured, cherished. Pleasured. Completely, utterly wrecked in the best possible way. Now owned. I felt the truth of it deep in my bones.
His
hunger? Barely begun its feast upon this forbidden fruit.