Page 13 of Emerald

Chapter 9: Cara

Iwas fucked. Literally and figuratively, though the literal fucking was a hell of a lot more enjoyable than the figurative.

I stared up at the ceiling, my body still thrumming with the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm of my life. Finn lay beside me, his chest heaving and his skin slick with sweat. I could feel the evidence of our coupling between my thighs, sticky and warm.

Holy shit. I wasn't a virgin anymore. Finn Gallagher, the man I'd been in love with for as long as I could remember, had finally claimed me. Had made me his in every way that mattered.

And it had been fucking glorious. I'd known it would be good with Finn—the man couldn't kiss me without making my knees weak and my panties damp—but I hadn't been prepared for the sheer, overwhelming intensity of it. The way he'd filled me, stretched me, made me feel like I was being split open and put back together all at once.

God, I wanted to do it again. Wanted to roll over and climb on top of him, sink down on his cock and ride him until we both collapsed from sheer, wrung-out bliss. I wanted it all, wanted everything he had to give me. Because I knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that I would never feel this way with anyone else. No other man could ever own me, body and soul, the way Finn did.

But it didn't matter what I wanted. It didn't fucking matter, because in two weeks, I was supposed to marry Mikhail Sokolov. In two weeks, I was supposed to pledge myself to a man I despised, a man who made my skin crawl and my stomach churn with dread. A man who would break me, if I let him.

Finn stirred beside me, his hand coming up to brush the hair back from my sweat-dampened forehead. "You okay, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?"

"No," I said softly, turning my head to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft in a way I'd never seen before. "No, Finn. You didn't hurt me. You could never hurt me."

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone. "I know it's not exactly how you probably imagined your first time, but—"

I cut him off with a kiss, my hand fisting in his hair to drag him closer. He made a low groan against my mouth, but then he was kissing me back, his tongue sliding hot and slick against mine. I rolled on top of him, straddling his hips and grinding down against the hardening length of his cock. He groaned, his hands coming up to grab my waist, his fingers digging into my skin.

"It was perfect," I breathed against his lips. "You're perfect, Finn. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way, with anyone else." I pulled back, staring down at him with a frown. "And it was you I wanted my first time with. Not some monster that my father has promised me too.”

Finn's face darkened, his jaw clenching so hard I could hear his teeth grind. "I won't let that happen. I won't let him touch you, Cara. I'll fucking kill him first."

I believed him. God help me, but I did. But it wasn't enough. Not when my own father was the one selling me out, sacrificing me for his own ambition.

"You can't stop it, Finn." My voice was small, defeated. "Not without getting yourself killed in the process. And I can't... I won't let that happen. I won't let you die for me."

His eyes flashed, his hands tightening on my hips. "Then we'll run. We'll fucking disappear, go somewhere they'll never find us. I have money saved, contacts who can help us vanish. We can be gone before they even realize we're missing."

I stared at him. It was tempting, so fucking tempting. The thought of leaving everything behind, of starting over somewhere new with Finn by my side. God, I wanted it. Wanted it so badly I could taste it. But there was nowhere we could run, nowhere we could hide, that my father and the Sokolovs wouldn't find us eventually.

"They'll kill you, Finn." I said. "They'll fucking destroy you for daring to touch what's theirs. What's been promised to another."

"You're not a fucking possession, Cara." He rolled us over until I was pinned beneath him.

I wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that we could somehow find a way out of this nightmare. But I was my father's daughter, for better or worse. I knew how the game was played. And I knew that there was no escape. No way out, except the one I was slowly, painfully coming to terms with in my own mind.

But I couldn't think about that now. Not when I could still feel the delicious ache of Finn’s possession between my thighs. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and I kissed him like the world was ending, like we were the only two people left in it. I poured everything I felt into that kiss—all the love, the longing, the bone-deep certainty that he was mine and I was his, now and always.

He kisses me back just as fiercely, his body blanketing mine, his hands roaming over my skin like he was trying to memorize every inch of me. I could feel him hardening against me, could feel the thick, heavy press of his cock against my still-sensitive flesh.

"Finn, please." I broke the kiss on a gasp, my hips rolling up to meet his. "I need to feel you inside me again."

He groaned, his forehead falling to rest against mine. "Cara, fuck. I'm trying to be a fucking gentleman here, to give you time to recover."

"I don't want time to recover. I’m ready." I bit his bottom lip, soothing the sting with my tongue. "I want you inside me, Finn. I want you to fuck me until the only thing I know is the feel of you inside me."

His hips jerked against me, a strangled noise escaping his throat. "Jesus Christ, Cara.”

"I'm not going to ask nicely again,” I said as I grinned up at him.

He growled, a low, feral sound that made my toes curl and my nipples tighten into aching peaks. And then he was kissing me again, hard and deep and filthy, as he reached between us to guide himself back inside me. I moaned into his mouth as he pushed forward, my body stretching to accommodate the thick, blunt head of his cock. I was sore, sensitized to the point of pain, but it was a good ache. A desired one, welcome and wanted.

He moved slowly at first, letting me adjust to the feel of him. But soon enough he was picking up the pace, his hips snapping against me as he drove himself deeper, harder. This was different than before. Harder, faster, deeper. I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders, my heels locked at the base of his spine as I urged him on with breathy little moans and broken pleas.

"Finn, oh fuck, please don't stop."

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