Page 59
Story: Stuck with Mr. Grump
“Yeah, she did,” I say on a short laugh. “The biggest revelation of the night, actually. I swear it’s the stuff of all those shitty melodramas on TV, angel.”
It’s not funny though, not in the slightest. Emilia waits patiently for me to speak.
“My real father’s name is Stephan Harrington. My dad’s half-brother. He was grandfather’s son out of wedlock. My mother had an affair with her brother-in-law. What all of that means is that I’m a Harrington after all. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Emilia huffs out a breath but she doesn’t say anything. When I look at her, she’s still got that soft look in her eyes. They betray no surprise or pity. Just understanding. Like she can read past all the bullshit. Like she can see directly into me.
“Where is he now?” she asks.
“He passed away about two years after I was born. Until a couple of hours ago, Stephan was an uncle who died tragically in an accident. Now he’s a father I’ll never get to meet.”
The words are like a lash against my heart. I imagine this is how it feels to be stabbed by a serrated knife. It feels like a wound that I can’t heal. A wound I don’t understand. How am I supposed to grieve someone like that? I don’t even know if I’m meant to grieve him.
I feel a soft touch on my shoulder, right before warm hands envelop me. I turn, allowing myself to lean against Emilia, resting my head against her chest.
“I-I don’t know how to comfort you,” she says quietly.
“That’s okay,” I whisper. “I just need you, angel.”
I don’t know how long we stay like that for. But it feels like forever before the pain in my chest begins to dissipate. It gives way to something else: longing. Because in this moment, I’m with a woman that’s invaded my thoughts more than anyone else. And I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want her.
When I look up, her eyes are already on me. Our gazes connect and nothing in that moment makes more sense than me placing my hand on her jaw. She shudders at the contact and then I’m lowering my head to hers. The first brush of my lipsagainst hers is tentative. But when she doesn’t pull away, it spurs me on.
My entire body thrums with need. I shift even closer, my fingers pressing against the side of her neck as I taste her soft lips. I kiss her like my life depends on it, like hers does too. We latch onto each other, her arms curling around my neck while my hands roam her body.
It’s a desperate sort of kiss, full of angst and longing. So slow, like neither of us want it to end. And yet it feels like there’s a time limit. Like we’re a piece of glass that could shatter with barely any effort. I pull back just a little, cupping the base of her head, her blonde hair silky beneath my hand.
“Why did you stop?” she breathes, her gaze bright and full of longing.
“You don’t want me to?” I ask, trying to give her a chance to stop this. To ensure this doesn’t go any further than she wants.
Emilia shakes her head, eyes fixed on to mine.
“Are you sure, angel?” I prod. “Because if we do this, there’s no going back.”
She swallows softly. “I know. I want this.”
My lips tilt up in a smile. “Good girl. There’s no rush, though. I’m going to take my time with you,” I murmur before taking her lips, swallowing the sweet little humming noise she makes.
Her hands trace across my shoulder and a shiver races down my spine when she drags her nails against my back. Our tongues slide together and she tastes so fucking erotic. My cock is so hard it hurts right now.
“Can I touch you?” I whisper against her lips.
My hand slides down the curve of her body, my thumb resting against her full breasts. She’s wearing a big T-shirt and black leggings. My words are a plea because I want to take off her clothes and feel everything, touch her everywhere.
“Yes,” Emilia breathes, shifting back to take the shirt off.
She’s left wearing a blue bra that pushes her tits up, making them look entirely too enticing. Her nipples are clearly hard beneath it.
I flick one budding nub and she moans, “Fuck.”
I press a kiss to the bottom line of her jaw and another right beside her jaw.
“Sterling.”
The sound of my name on her lips drives me crazy. Like it might undo me. I kiss the spot just below her ear and she squirms against me. I hear her breathing quicken.
“You like that, angel?” I ask, nipping at her ear.
It’s not funny though, not in the slightest. Emilia waits patiently for me to speak.
“My real father’s name is Stephan Harrington. My dad’s half-brother. He was grandfather’s son out of wedlock. My mother had an affair with her brother-in-law. What all of that means is that I’m a Harrington after all. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Emilia huffs out a breath but she doesn’t say anything. When I look at her, she’s still got that soft look in her eyes. They betray no surprise or pity. Just understanding. Like she can read past all the bullshit. Like she can see directly into me.
“Where is he now?” she asks.
“He passed away about two years after I was born. Until a couple of hours ago, Stephan was an uncle who died tragically in an accident. Now he’s a father I’ll never get to meet.”
The words are like a lash against my heart. I imagine this is how it feels to be stabbed by a serrated knife. It feels like a wound that I can’t heal. A wound I don’t understand. How am I supposed to grieve someone like that? I don’t even know if I’m meant to grieve him.
I feel a soft touch on my shoulder, right before warm hands envelop me. I turn, allowing myself to lean against Emilia, resting my head against her chest.
“I-I don’t know how to comfort you,” she says quietly.
“That’s okay,” I whisper. “I just need you, angel.”
I don’t know how long we stay like that for. But it feels like forever before the pain in my chest begins to dissipate. It gives way to something else: longing. Because in this moment, I’m with a woman that’s invaded my thoughts more than anyone else. And I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want her.
When I look up, her eyes are already on me. Our gazes connect and nothing in that moment makes more sense than me placing my hand on her jaw. She shudders at the contact and then I’m lowering my head to hers. The first brush of my lipsagainst hers is tentative. But when she doesn’t pull away, it spurs me on.
My entire body thrums with need. I shift even closer, my fingers pressing against the side of her neck as I taste her soft lips. I kiss her like my life depends on it, like hers does too. We latch onto each other, her arms curling around my neck while my hands roam her body.
It’s a desperate sort of kiss, full of angst and longing. So slow, like neither of us want it to end. And yet it feels like there’s a time limit. Like we’re a piece of glass that could shatter with barely any effort. I pull back just a little, cupping the base of her head, her blonde hair silky beneath my hand.
“Why did you stop?” she breathes, her gaze bright and full of longing.
“You don’t want me to?” I ask, trying to give her a chance to stop this. To ensure this doesn’t go any further than she wants.
Emilia shakes her head, eyes fixed on to mine.
“Are you sure, angel?” I prod. “Because if we do this, there’s no going back.”
She swallows softly. “I know. I want this.”
My lips tilt up in a smile. “Good girl. There’s no rush, though. I’m going to take my time with you,” I murmur before taking her lips, swallowing the sweet little humming noise she makes.
Her hands trace across my shoulder and a shiver races down my spine when she drags her nails against my back. Our tongues slide together and she tastes so fucking erotic. My cock is so hard it hurts right now.
“Can I touch you?” I whisper against her lips.
My hand slides down the curve of her body, my thumb resting against her full breasts. She’s wearing a big T-shirt and black leggings. My words are a plea because I want to take off her clothes and feel everything, touch her everywhere.
“Yes,” Emilia breathes, shifting back to take the shirt off.
She’s left wearing a blue bra that pushes her tits up, making them look entirely too enticing. Her nipples are clearly hard beneath it.
I flick one budding nub and she moans, “Fuck.”
I press a kiss to the bottom line of her jaw and another right beside her jaw.
“Sterling.”
The sound of my name on her lips drives me crazy. Like it might undo me. I kiss the spot just below her ear and she squirms against me. I hear her breathing quicken.
“You like that, angel?” I ask, nipping at her ear.
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