Page 53 of Broken Rules (The Elites of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy 2)

Normally there is a point when we’re making love when I close my eyes and lose myself in nothing but the sensation of our bodies. But this time, we both make a point of keeping our eyes wide open. It’s as if we’re deciding not to hide anymore. To look each other straight on and face everything that exists between us without fear. The intensity of it takes my breath away, and I have never felt so connected with another human being before. His fingers interlace with mine and I could swear our veins are flowing together, sharing the same blood. Our chests are flattened against one another, our hearts beating in time, the rise and fall of our breaths loud and matching perfectly.

We say each other’s names into the darkness like animals, calling each other closer. We can never get close enough. I swear I can feel inside of him as I claw into his skin—the heat of his skin is the heat of his organs, his veins, his soul. All pulsing just for me, in tune with my own.

I feel like I’m drowning in him, but I’ve lost all desire to come back up for air. I’m losing myself and don’t even care. This goes against everything I always believed about myself. I thought running came above all else, aside from family. But didn’t I tell Emmett we were family? Does that somehow excuse my obsessive love for him? I thought when he showed me some hope that he could become a decent person that things would level out between us. That I would feel more in control. But it seems to have only made things worse. His reciprocity has only fanned the flames, and they’re devouring me faster than I can do anything about it. Not that I would if I thought that I could.

Eventually we can’t stand it anymore, and his pace quickens. It’s just enough to quickly push me to the edge, and I feel him moving there right along with me. Unexpectedly and all at once, we find ourselves digging into each other’s skin as our bodies pulse together in perfectly-blended bliss.

We’re speechless and fighting sleep by the time our orgasms are over. I don’t want to move or say anything. I am out of it, still stuck in a lingering sex haze, but I think he is still inside of me as he lays on top of me. I want to stay like this forever—where it’s just the two of us with nothing from the outside threatening to come in between. It feels like this is how we are meant to be. We’re both perfect when it’s like this.

Emmett and I are as close as any two people can be, bonded by tragedy, hope, and loss. He clings to the hope that he can run his father’s business differently. That he can do things right and stop this town from being so fucked up. I cling to the hope that he can do all of those things and not crack under the pressure. I am scared of seeing him become the same kind of man his father was. Scared that there is no other outcome for people like him in Jameson.

If I could just get over this jealousy towards Vivian, I could be there for Emmett in the way that he needs me to be. But I'm afraid that letting go of my jealousy is a mistake. Then, maybe I will miss it when he begins slipping from my fingers. I don't want to be surprised. I want to see that hurt coming from a mile away. I don't think I could handle it if it snuck up on me. If I just walked into school one day to see the two of them back together, with me being the last one to know. I need to let go of it for Emmett's sake, but I cling to it for my own protection.

“I don’t want to be safe with you, Ophelia,” he explains desperately. “Maybe that’s where we keep going wrong. You keep trying to make this small and comfortable, and

it’s not. We’re too much for that.”

The sound of Emmett’s voice is smooth and deep like honey, and it has the magical ability to instantly shake me to my core. No matter what I think I have my mind made up about, it flies out the window the moment he says a word. I’ll try to hold strong to whatever I’ve decided, but his voice carries on like a hammer to glass, and I always inevitably break. All of the feelings I have for him come flooding out in a big, overwhelming gush, swallowing us both whole. The release of it takes my breath away every time, and he is always left looking to me for more.

“You get off on it when things are fucked up between us,” I answer decidedly.

“No, we feel too much for it to be safe,” he shoots back. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“So, what do we do?” I ask, my voice drenched in fear.

“We hold on as tight as we can and never let each other go,” he says softly. “Hold onto each other for the ride.”

“Looks like I held on to you too tight,” I snicker against his arm, my finger trailing circles around the scratch marks running down the sides of his body.

“Good,” he says boldly. “I want to be branded by you. You can mark me up as much as you want.”

“I’ve had my fair share of marks from you, too,” I note resentfully, cringing at the slip.

“And you’ll never let me forget it.” He sighs.

“Probably not,” I reply truthfully. “I don’t know that it’s fair for either of us to forget.”

“Then how can you be with me?” he asks. “If you still think about it all so much.”

“That’s what I keep asking myself.” I shake my head, looking hopelessly to the ceiling above. “Maybe it’s not so bad for me to remember. Doesn’t it say more about how I feel about you? That I’ve been able to move past it and see you for who you are now?”

“But have you moved past it?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer.

I don’t want to tell him the truth. That I am always secretly waiting for that side of him to return. It has, though. I’ve seen it. He hasn’t been perfect. I just don’t know which side to believe—if the bad will always resurface, or if eventually, he can learn to move past it.

Emmett looks at me desperately, as if our lives are hanging on this moment as he moves inside of me again. He trembles against my body in breathless moans. I keep my hands planted on either side of his face, guiding him back and forth, letting him know that I am right here with him, feeling everything he is feeling.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he mouths to me.

I swallow hard from the pressure. I wanted to be the center of Emmett’s world. Part of me has always secretly wanted that, even if only as a way to escape his tormenting. Now I am, and I don’t know if I can bear it. The weight of it crashes down on me, and I feel like I might suffocate beneath it. But he sweeps my lips back into his, and I am lost again, unable to care about anything but him. That’s how quickly he makes me forget that I have a choice, and I relish in the freedom of it. His prison feels like freedom. I know it’s wrong and messed up, but I can’t feel any other way. We belong to each other.

“I want to do everything to you, Ophelia,” he murmurs in the darkness. “I don’t think I could ever get bored of your body. I want to do everything there is to do to it…and once I’ve done it all, I’ll start over and do it all a second time.”

I shiver against his words, growing wet all over again. “That could take quite some time,” I warn him jokingly.

“Planning on going somewhere?” he questions, raising his brows at me.

I hesitate in my reply, hating to kill the mood. “Well…Emmett…there’s college and everything,” I remind him. “I mean, who knows what will happen. I want to be with you, but…we don’t know what the future holds. I don’t want us to make promises we can’t keep.”

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