Page 8 of Yours to Conquer

He is firm in my hand, and I glide my palm up and down his length. I am rewarded with a guttural moan. As I bring the fingers of my free hand to his chest, I graze his nipple. I am then rewarded with a growl. I push him to his back and straddle him.

“I’m taking control, Anthony. Lay back and enjoy baby,” I say as I lower myself onto his length. The feeling takes my breath away. I moan with pleasure as he fills me. I slowly raise and lower my body until we are both breathless. His hands caress my breasts as I lean into his touch. I feel his body shift. He turns us around without breaking contact or missing a beat. I now lay beneath him. He pounds out a steady rhythm that brings me to the edge. I reach down to touch myself, knowing that a few strokes of my finger will get me to the place I want to go. He reaches for both of my legs and pulls them to his shoulders. He is now wholly inside in me. I feel him hit the deepest part of me. His mouth is slightly open, and he tilts his head back. If I had to describe ecstasy, I would describe his face at this exact moment. I continue to rub myself as he hammers into me. The telling tingle starts in my nipples and slowly seeps down my spine until my body shatters. I scream out his name as I throb around him.

“Oh…God!” he calls out. He lets my legs fall and collapses on top of me. I feel the pulse of his release as he empties himself into me. I drag my fingertips lightly across his back as he lets out a contented “Mmm.”

CHAPTER SIX

I wake to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. There is a chill in the air that sends me searching for Anthony’s warm body. My hand blindly reaches for him in the darkened room, but I find nothing. The spot where he lay last night is empty and cold. I open my eyes and scan the room to find he’s gone. The thought saddens me. My favorite part of the morning is waking up next to him.

The door leading to the beach is slightly ajar, allowing the cool morning air to enter. I watch the curtains as they billow in the breeze. Sliding slowly from the bed, I put on my robe before opening the door fully. I peek my head outside and see a lone swimmer. I can’t be sure, but I think it’s Anthony. I watch as he rounds the buoy and makes his way back to shore. He battles the break of the water to emerge, god-like, out of the ocean. Poseidon comes to mind as I watch the water drip off his broad shoulders. Shoulders formed by hours of swimming. Anthony’s Triton sits between his legs instead of carrying it in his hand.

With a shake of his head, the water splashes in all directions before his locks fall perfectly around his face. I take in the sight of him as he walks to me. His blue swim trunks hang low on his hips,and I devour his body with my eyes. His solid abs blend into the perfect V that disappears into his navy-blue swim shorts.

“Hey, Emma, I thought you would’ve slept longer. I figured I had enough time for a quick swim before I woke you up. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.”

His smile melts my insides. What do you say to a gorgeous man that wants to serve you breakfast in bed? “I just got up. I can run back and climb into bed if you want me to,” I tease.

He laughs as he pulls me by the hand and drags me into the bathroom, leaving a trail of sand in his wake. He wastes no time divesting me of my robe. “Let’s jump in the shower. When we’re finished, I’ll make you a killer breakfast while you keep me company.”

There is no invite or question, just a directive from a man who’s used to getting his way. I don’t typically answer to men, but having spent the last few months with Anthony, I’m getting used to his bossiness. It’s not an entirely unpleasant experience. I certainly wouldn’t be comfortable submitting to a man regularly, but Anthony and I seem to have found a good balance.

“Where are you, Emma? You seem to be deep in thought,” he inquires as he lathers up my body.

“I was thinking about how bossy you are. I thought it would bother me at first, but it’s been nice to depend on someone.” I take the bath gel and reciprocate, slowly running my hands along his body. I love the feel of him under my palms. I ask him to turn around so I can wash his back. My ulterior motive is to see his backside. He has the nicest—rock-solid—back end I’ve ever laid eyes on. I lean my body against him, kissing his shoulder blade, and wrap my arms around his waist. His hands fold over mine as we stand like this for few moments. Turning around, he picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling his hardness against my bottom. Our eyes connect before our lips. The kiss is swoon worthy. I can feel his passion flow through me as our tongues collide together. Myeyes look to his and find the look of fierce passion and need. His tongue darts out of his mouth, licking his lips. I’m getting to learn his mannerisms, and I think this one meansI’m hungry for you.

He turns off the shower jets with one hand. Never letting my feet touch the floor, he carries my dripping body to bed. I giggle as he throws me to the center and tickles me.

“I love your laugh, Emma. It warms my heart to hear you so carefree.” He stops for a minute and looks at me seriously. “Thank you for moving in with me, babe. I know it was a hard decision, but I am glad it ended up in my favor.”

He settles himself between my legs, and that’s where he stays for the rest of the morning.

I don’t get my breakfast in bed, but I’m not disappointed. Anthony and I emerge from our bedroom late in the morning to eat breakfast together on the deck. We settle for fresh fruit and bagels and a fantastic cup of coffee.

“What should I wear to your parents’ house tonight? I’m nervous about meeting them. This will be my first meet-the-parents experience.” I pop a juicy strawberry into my mouth. One perk of dating a master chef is that you get the best produce available.

“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in. It’s a casual dinner, so you can wear jeans if you want. My parents are going to love you. This is a fairly new experience for all of us. I’ve only brought one girl home before you. I guess my parents will be just as nervous as you are.”

“You lucked out, never having to meet my parents. I wish my mom could’ve met you, though. She would’ve liked you.”

“I met the Crosses at your graduation, and they gave me the third degree. They stepped right into the parent role for you. Speaking of parents, I hired an investigator to look around Dallas for me. I have plans to visit the locations we have there in a couple of weeks. I’m hoping he’ll have something for me then.”

“What do you think you’re going tofind?”

“Probably nothing. I’ll most likely learn that your dad is just an asshole, but if I can learn something different, then I plan to keep looking. I found something interesting, though. I was going to wait to say something.” He looks over his coffee cup as he takes a sip. “I sent for your parents’ marriage license and your birth certificate. It turns out they married only months before you were born.”

I’m speechless. I never knew when my parents got married. I had no reason to ask because they never celebrated an anniversary. I just assumed that they did it like most people in their generation did. You met, you fell in love, and you married. Nine months later, your bundle of joy is born, and everyone lives happily ever after. Well, I know the happily ever after was bullshit. They didn’t have a loving marriage. I feel like I’m being sucked into some black hole. My head spins, and everything fades when I realize I’m holding my breath. As soon as I release it and breathe in, everything rights itself.

“Em, are you okay? I’m assuming by your reaction you didn’t know. I’m sorry. Maybe I should have kept that information to myself.” His thumb and index finger begin a slow circular motion as he rubs his temples.

I pucker my lips and exhale; the sound that comes out is more like a whistle. “No, it’s okay. I guess it answers a few questions. He married my mom because he knocked her up. Being Catholic, you didn’t get pregnant before you were married. That would explain why he hated me. Most men would hate to be roped into a marriage.” I rub my face with my hands, trying to digest this recent information. “Wow, you just confirmed what I always knew. I’m no one’s love child. I’m more of an ‘oops.’”

Anthony moves over to my chaise lounge, lifts me, and puts me in his lap. “You’re my love child. Most kids are more like an ‘oops’ if their parents are honest. I know I was. Are you going to be okay?” He turns my head so he can see my eyes. “Should I call off the detective? I don’t want to hurt you with informationlike this.”

“You’re not hurting me. The hurt I feel was done a long time ago.”

“Okay, but why do you think she stayed with him? Did you ever ask her?”

I contemplate this for a moment. I do remember my mom telling me that marriage in God’s eyes was for life. “Being raised Catholic, you married and stayed married. My mom was a devout parishioner. She would drag me to church every week my dad was gone. When he was home, she didn’t leave the house.”

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