Page 3 of Emerald

I'd thought I knew hunger before. Thought the low-grade simmer of want that had plagued me for years was the worst of it. But that... that was a fucking appetizer compared to the feral, clawing need that consumed me now.

I wanted her. Wanted her naked and writhing beneath me, over me, her lush body taking me in to the hilt. Wanted to bury myself in her and never come up for air. Wanted to make her scream my name until she forgot there was a world beyond my cock and her perfect pussy.

But I fucking couldn't. She was Declan Maguire's only daughter. His precious princess, the untouchable jewel in his crown. And me? The expendable person who'd be lucky to catch a bullet between the eyes if Himself ever discovered the filthy, unholy things I wanted to do to his baby girl.

I ended the kiss before I could give in to the temptation to strip her naked and fuck her against the nearest flat surface. Mumbled some bullshit about it being a mistake, about not letting it happen again. Now here I was, standing outside her bedroom like a creepy stalker, listening to the sounds of her getting ready for bed. The soft rustle of silk, the clink of her jewelry as she took it off, the hum of her voice as she sang some pop tune under her breath.

I leaned my forehead against the door, my eyes squeezing shut as I pictured her. The way the lamplight would play over her skin, all golden and glowing. The way her hair would tumble down her back in a riot of strawberry curls, just begging for my hands to sink into. The way her curvy thick legs would look in nothing but a skimpy nightie, toned and tempting and—

A breathy moan shattered my fantasy, my eyes flying open as my heart stuttered to a stop. What the fuck?

Another moan, louder this time, followed by a husky murmur that sounded like... like...

"Finn."

Jesus fucking Christ.

I pressed my ear to the door, hardly daring to breathe. Was she...? No. No fucking way. She wouldn't. Not with me right outside.

A long, low keen, shivery with pleasure. The unmistakable slick sound of fingers on wet flesh. Another broken moan of my name.

"Oh god, Finn, yes."

Fuck. She was. She was fucking touching herself and thinking of me.

I bit down on my fist, muffling my own groan as my cock went from half-mast to full salute in point-two seconds. This was wrong. So fucking wrong. I shouldn't be listening to this. Shouldn't be imagining the way she'd look spread out on her bed, her fingers buried in the wet silk of her core.

But I couldn't make myself move. Couldn't do anything but stand there like a pervert, my ear pressed to the door, my cock throbbing in time to her hitching moans.

"Finn, please," she whimpered, and I could picture her so clearly it hurt. Head thrown back, pink lips parted, tits bouncing as she fucked her fingers faster. "Oh god, your mouth, I need your mouth, please—"

I squeezed my eyes shut, a full body shudder wracking me as I fought the urge to give her what she wanted. To burst through the door and put my mouth on her, in her, lick and suck and eat her sweet pussy until she screamed my name for real. Even if my balls felt like they were going to explode from how hard I was. Even if every cell in my body was screaming at me to take what she was freely offering. I just stood there and listened. Let the sounds of her pleasure wash over me as she chased her release. Let the hitching moans and broken pleas sear into my brain.

"Close," she panted, her voice thin and thready with need. "Oh fuck, Finn, I'm close, don't stop, please don't stop—"

I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw creaked. Flattened my palms against the door to keep from reaching for my zipper. One high, sharp cry, bitten off and choked. A guttural moan that sounded like it was ripped from her very soul. The unmistakable sound of her coming, hard and long, with my name on her lips. I sagged against the door, my knees weak, my cock so hard it hurt. Listened to her panting breaths slowly even out as she came down.

Then, her voice, so soft I almost missed it: "Coward."

I flinched and pushed off the door and stumbled back, my chest tight and aching. Fuck. She knew I heard her and did nothing. She was right. I was a coward. A goddamn fucking coward who'd rather listen to her come than be the one to make her do it. Who'd rather torture myself with the fantasy of her than reach out and take the reality.

I scrubbed a shaking hand over my face. Tried to ignore the persistent ache in my balls, the way my cock throbbed and wept in my boxers. Told myself it was better this way. Safer. For her, if not for me.

But as I resumed my post outside her door, my ears still ringing with the echoes of her pleasure, I knew I was lying to myself. There was nothing safe about this. Nothing sane or smart about the unholy need she unleashed in me.

Cara Maguire was going to be the death of me. One way or another, she'd be my ruin. And God help me, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Chapter 4: Cara

Iwas dreaming of Finn's hands on me when the first explosion rocked the compound.

I jolted awake with a gasp, my heart slamming against my ribs as I sat bolt upright in bed. For a second I thought I'd imagined it, my sex-soaked brain conjuring phantom bombs to match the detonation in my panties.

Then it happened again. A bone-rattling boom, followed by the unmistakable pop-pop-pop of gunfire. Shouts and screams, distant but getting closer.

Fuck.

I scrambled out of bed, my bare feet hitting the floor just as my bedroom door burst open. I shrieked and spun around, my hands flying up to ward off the intruder.

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