Page 54 of Emma & Edmund

She knew she should be gagging, desperate for air and aching for reprieve. But as if engulfed by magic, the intense pressure felt like the most natural thing, like it was what a throat was created for.

When her nose was finally buried in the patch of hair decorating the base of his manhood, Emma's eyes fluttered shut. The hand gripping her skull guided her away, only to slam her back in. Phantom thrusts pounded the back of her throat, pressing her tongue flat and sending cascades of drool down her chin.

Just as quickly as he began, he ripped himself from her abused lips. She groaned from the abandonment, but when he leaned down and slipped both hands around her waist, effortlessly lifting her from her knees, she couldn't bring herself to care much longer.

With the same ease he had lifted her, he flipped her whole body with a flick of a wrist. Emma finally opened her eyes only to see the marble slab she had woken up on, her hands pressed flat against it. The rain beat on her back, the only thing that kept her from catching on fire.

Nothing felt how it should feel, but that didn't mean her heart didn't beat like a butterfly's wing, nor did it mean his touch wasn't elating her beyond compare.

When his hands encased her hips, fingers nearly meeting in the middle, she couldn't remember ever feeling happier. Ever feeling more needed.

A slap of his cock against the back of her thigh served as the only warning before it slid between her legs, kissing her lower lips. A handpressed against her back, laying her cheek flat against the stone.

If she had believed the sensation in her mouth to be overwhelming, she failed to find the proper words for what plunged into the very core of her just then. Gasps and groans fell from her lips, bouncing off the crumbling walls and echoing back in her ears.

Not alone, in time with the ghostly thrusts, the wet slap of skin of skin, the sound of her body refusing to let him go, drowned out whatever cries she may have.

A now familiar coil of desire wound within her gut, chasing its release with reckless abandon, forcing her to throw her hips back to meet his thrusts.

With some effort, she threw a knee upon the marble slab she lay upon, widening herself as much as she could for his onslaught, granting him every inch of her that she could.

She wanted his seed, wanted it spilled so deeply inside of her that it never would come out. She desired it more than she had yearned for anything before.

Her very soul demanded it.

The coil within her ached to burst, her hips throwing themselves back. Wetness slicked down her legs, caressing her thighs with its gentle brush.

She was so close. She knew now exactly what she was close to, and nothing would stop her from finishing.

Emma awoke squirming, the duvet wrapped around her in a sweaty cocoon. Her heart thumped against her ribs, her core pulsing with denied completion.

Her wits were hardly about, her thoughts caught up in every inch, every moment of her most recent dream.

She was certain she was lying in a moist circle of her unexpelled pleasure, and her face remained as flush and her heart as fast as it was when she woke up.

She was utterly alone and need still pulsed through her.

Did Edmund dream that, too? What was he doing, right now?

Her hand slunk across her stomach, resting on the mound before her core. Every lesson inside of her brain screamed at her to remove it, to throw back the covers and face the day with unsung release stuck inside of her. To her training's chagrin, a much louder part of her overwhelmed it.

Emma didn't know exactly what she was doing, having never touched herself in such a way before, but she's also never laid with a man before. And even still, the knowledge came naturally.

Slipping over the fabric between her legs, she gave an experimental swipe of her fingers against her quivering center, teeth clamping down on her lower lip to stop the groan that filled her mouth.

Another exploratory touch, and another strong approval from her body.

From there, she needed little explanation. She already knew of a wonderful little button hidden between her legs, discovered and devoured by Edmund, and she was determined to find it again.

It didn't take long - there were only so many places to try - but the way her legs twitched and her hips threw themselves forward only confirmed the magic that lived in this spot. A pillow had to be shoved in her mouth to hold back the unregulated moans that came from her with reckless abandon, swirling her fingers over that spot again and again.

Starting already halfway there, it didn't take long for completion to come crashing over her, eyes rolling back in her head from the force of it.

Turning her face into the pillow, Emma took long, deep breaths, riding the coattails of pleasure as long as she could. Sleep began to weigh her eyes again, and her tense form relaxed into the mattress.

"Emma Thompson!"

She shot up at the same moment the door hit the wall, Jonathan standing just beyond the threshold.

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