Chapter 27

It was after midnight, and I was pretty sure it was too late to return to Emmanuelle's house. I felt queasy about how I'd left things, though. Queasy and restless. Which might have been the reason why the car didn't take me towards the Hale household, but back to the beach house.

I sat there a while, contemplating what to do. The interior was dark, and it would be rude to wake her up if she was already asleep. My fingers were reaching towards the key to restart the motor before I made myself pause. There would always be another reason not to talk about my feelings, and was I really prepared to let Emmanuelle walk away just because I was too scared to admit what I felt or fight for what I wanted? I'd just told Lacie off for not being considerate enough. So, what about heeding my own advice? I didn't know what Emmanuelle felt or thought, did I? So why didn't I make the effort to find out first before running away?

Because this is really fucking scary.

Taking a deep breath, I climbed out of the car. I crossed the distance to the front door before knocking lightly, butterflies in my stomach. If the soft sound didn't rouse her, I'd come back tomorrow. It was quiet for a long moment until muffled noises rang out from inside.

The door opened.

The sight of Emmanuelle dissolved all my good intentions. All the sentences I'd prepared in my head flew apart, all the calm I'd strained to collect so I could talk about my feelings evaporated. Thoughts, in general, escaped me.

She wore a sleeping robe that was gaping open in the front, displaying long, toned legs in black briefs and outlining her bare chest under the fabric. Her hair was tousled, stubborn dark curls falling below her collarbones. Looking at her made me feel hot and cold at the same time, parts of my body urging me onward while others begged me to turn away. Desire won. It would have been laughable to think it wouldn't.

My feet had a mind of their own when they propelled me close. My hands slid behind her neck to pull her into a kiss as if I had done it a thousand times before. I didn't know what I would've done had she flinched away, but despite her obvious surprise, she didn't, cradling my head between her hands and kissing me back instead. We stumbled into the house, and I threw the door closed with a foot, never once losing contact with those sinfully soft lips.

My brain was fuzzy, but the throbbing between my legs made me desperate, and I pressed against Emmanuelle, afraid any space between us would undo me. But the woman in my arms managed to do that all on her own. She ripped the jacket off my shoulders, closely followed by my shirt. The touch of her fingertips on my bare torso made me shiver violently, gripping her hips and rocking them against mine. The touch didn't quench the tension but only made it worse. I needed more.

I pulled the robe from her shoulders and one of my hands moved over her chest, fingernails slightly raking over the smooth planes of her neck before moving downward and scratching a nipple. She broke away from me with harsh gulps of air.

"Bedroom," she commanded huskily.

We barely made it there.

Inside, she turned around, her hands pushing me against the closed door, and I knew she was about to take charge. My breathing was ragged, and I could only stare when she sank down on her knees and opened the zipper of my jeans. The denim fabric felt rough on my skin, and I was glad to be rid of it when she pulled it off. My own briefs followed. I attempted to say something, but the first touch of her tongue had me burrowing my fingers in her hair with a sharp intake of breath.

I didn't think much after that because I had to focus too hard to remain upright. She tortured me, there was no other word for it, running her tongue through the wetness between my legs, stroking, teasing, and the heat increased tenfold inside my belly.

"Emmanuelle," I finally begged, legs shaking.

I couldn't let go, couldn't give up that last bit of myself. Not like this.

She stopped and leaned back, eyes gazing up at me. And, as if she knew that I felt too vulnerable, she turned her face to kiss the crease between my hip and thigh. I tried to catch my breath, but I was struggling for air. Carefully, she brushed her lips over the left thigh then, caressing the raised scars on its surface, lingering, slowing herself down.

"Sorry, sometimes I want too much too soon." Her voice was a throaty rasp and that in itself let a new wave of goosebumps run over my back.

I didn't want her to stop. It was unbelievably scary to feel so exposed, but I needed her. I needed her so very badly.

"No, no, it's just been a while," I whispered. "But that doesn't mean that I don't want you. It's the opposite. I've never wanted anyone this much." One corner of her mouth curled up slightly, and my voice was gravelly when I told her, "I love it when you do that." And I touched my finger to that same corner of her mouth.

Her expression was inscrutable. Getting up slowly, her gaze still on my face, she took off her underwear, leaving her naked. I swallowed around the skyscraper-sized lump in my throat when she very slowly reached around me to take off my bra before moving her fingertips down my spine and digging them in to draw me closer.

The next kiss was slower than the last, gentler, and I enjoyed the reduced speed, but only until I noticed how much she was really holding back. The touches weren't gentle but measured. The sinuous hands at my back were trembling and her shoulders were rigid and, still caught in the act, I realised that I didn't want that. I didn't want her to hold any of herself back, just to meet my needs.

I wasn't Irene. I wanted all of her.

Trust her. Just trust her.

With the tightening of my grip, I also tightened my resolve and deepened the kiss. It grew fiercer, my tongue stroking hers until she fisted her hands into my hair to kiss me harder, pull me closer. My fingers dug into her lower back before reaching down and drawing up one of her legs. I didn't say a word, but she understood the signal well enough. Gloves off. No holding back.

Her warm breath heated my skin when she kissed a trail from my mouth to my ear. Her teeth tugged on my sensitive earlobe before returning to my lips while her hands were kneading, brushing, scratching. It was too much. Too much, and still not enough.

I needed her everywhere, but I didn't want her to leave the spots she was already occupying. A bittersweet quandary. But it was laughable to think that I could do something about it; at this point I was just holding on. Emmanuelle was directing the action and … that was how I needed it.

Finally, my dear artist had enough. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the bed, only to gently press me onto it and climb on top. First, she kissed me on the mouth until my head swam, her body moving over mine in a fever-inducing, sensually slow up-and-down.

Then, her lips started wandering, teasing the hollow at my throat, running over my right and left collarbone before descending on my breasts. When her teeth grazed a nipple, only to suck it into her mouth a second later, more than just the muscles in my legs tensed.

Oh, god.

My hands searched for a hold, found the metal structure of the bed, clung to it. Emmanuelle didn't even seem to notice. Out of breath and so sensitive that it was almost painful, I felt her hand reaching down, circling my naval once before settling between my thighs. I trembled, then sucked in a breath when she ran her fingers over my clit. She hummed at feeling how wet I was. I only moaned. First her tongue, then her fingers … Did the woman have no mercy?

"Emmanuelle." I was still afraid to let go. I wanted to so badly, but not sleeping with her was the last line of my emotional defence. I sobbed even though I had come to her, even though I had brought us to this moment.

"Shh…." She gently laid a hand on my chest. "I got you. I got you."

With a shuddering breath, I placed one hand atop hers and let go of the last vestiges of control I still held onto. Her fingers stroked me, slowly first and then more and more insistently, until the tension in my body made my muscles coil tighter and tighter, until nothing existed except the rubbing circles of her thumb.

I felt the storm building inside, its far reaches making me tremble, then shake. When she drew her nails over my chest and toward my nipple, I moaned again. Then her fingers dipped inside, speeding up in conjunction with my moans. It felt so very good. So very good.

I was so close now that I could see spots dancing at the corner of my vision. Could feel the pressure at my core reaching new heights. Then the world exploded.

Waves of ecstasy cascaded through my body as I felt myself clench around her fingers. I shuddered and tightened my grip on her hand, but she didn't complain. Instead, she lay down at my side.

I breathed into her hair, my arms clutching her, and she stroked my back while my body gradually stopped shaking. We lay in each other's arms for many silent minutes.

"When I heard the knock, that wasn't quite what I expected to happen," Emmanuelle said softly.

"It wasn't exactly what I had in mind either, until I saw you standing there," I admitted and moved back a bit so I could see her face. "I'm sorry for practically jumping you."

"I'm not complaining," she said, her eyes running over my body. "Not at all."

There was hunger on her face, and I didn't think it had anything to do with food. My mouth wanted to morph into a playful grin at her words, but her kiss interrupted me, making my thoughts abandon me again. Her skin slid over mine, and if this was how heaven felt, I would seriously entertain the notion of becoming religious. I didn't think my body could give any more, but I wasn't prepared for Emmanuelle's determination or the expertise of her hands and in the end, the only thing I could do was yield to her touch.

"I would wave a white flag if I had one," I told her after another brief bout of beautifully blissful silence together. I hadn't realised how hoarse my voice had become until that moment.

She chuckled and stretched lazily like a cat. "Is it everything you ever wanted? Or is the whole French seductress fantasy now forever ruined?"

"Ruined?" I almost choked on my laughter. "You are kidding, right?"

Hearing that, she paused in her stretch to grin at me. My eyes roamed around at all that languorous, smooth skin. It made me want to touch her very badly, even if I hardly held a candle to all of her experiences.

Don't think too much. Just do it.

My hand searched and dipped into wetness, and whatever else Emmanuelle had wanted to say ended in a moan. "That's really unfair," she got out before I moved my hand again and her eyes shuttered closed.

"You can always make a formal complaint," I whispered into her ear.

It felt strange to touch a woman like this again; it had been such a long time. But I relished the way my careful touches made her moan. I tried not to feel self-conscious about the fact that it took me much longer to find her sensitive spots than it had taken her to find mine. With patience, she directed my speed, and it was more than a little erotic how she would put her hand on mine and then push my fingers inside her. We didn't stop until she was writhing, her breathing shallow and ragged.

When I felt her start to shiver, I hesitated, uncertain.

"What's wrong?" she panted out.

"Could you keep your eyes open for me?" I whispered.

She caught me in her gaze before she made my fingers move again. Once she was sure I would continue, she gripped my shoulder with one hand and one bar of the bedrest with the other. She took deep, tremulous breaths, but her eyes stayed open even as the green colour darkened until it looked almost black. I wanted to see what was inside them, the self she kept hidden from the world behind a veneer of allure and charm. I wanted to make sure that she was right here, in this very moment, and that she didn't see her art, or Irene, or any of her other lovers. I needed this, and it was like she understood, that by allowing her that power over me earlier, this was a way for her to give it back.

Holding her gaze, I sped up the movement of my fingers, and her lids started to flutter while I chased the climax until it rippled through her body, her eyes the very window to her soul. It told me that she was right here. Right here with me.

We lay in her bed afterward, spent but relaxed, and it didn't feel awkward at all to fall asleep in her arms.