Emma was an eighteen-years-old girl, with mesmerizing brown eyes, curly hair and a petite figure that drew attention for anybody. Her beauty was delicate, like a porcelain doll. Despite appearance, she had always felt invisible in her own home like that was useless material.
Her parents were constantly buried in business matters. Neither of them ever took the time to truly see her, she was solely useless trash for them.
Emma POV'
Since I was three years olds, my parents had been strangers to me who lived under the same roof. Their world revolved around meetings, calls and deadlines. I was nothing for them. Everytime insecurity feeling was bouncing up my body I tried to compose myself. One day, it will fix the matter and solve my cruel imagination but nothing.
One Sunday evening, my parents invited one of their business partners over for dinner. I was lying on my bed, trying to lose myself in a novel reading.
Laughter voice coming from the drawing room downstairs. I was curled under my blanket, pretending to read a novel but I had heard every word drifting from the drawing room trying to pull my attention away from the words but I forced myself to stay focused on the pages in front of mine.
A few minutes later, I heard my mother calling out, asking me to come downstairs.
Reluctantly, I closed my book and kept it under my pillow. I got up from the bed to adjust my clothes and headed downstairs. My legs trembled slightly as I walked into the room. I was a shy girl– I barely spoke to anyone and not even my relatives. I had no friends and usually kept to myself, lost in books and silence. Nowadays, this is my favorite activity.
As I stepped into the drawing room, the air was thick around me, choking me.
The two pairs of eyes turned to me– but only held me in that place. A man, tall, handsome, wore a tailored dress who sat on a corner couch. His dark green didn't flutter one second. They locked on me, tracing the shape of my arms, the line of my neck, the way a loose t-shirt clung to my petite frame.
A shiver crawled across my skin and I froze on the door.
As soon as my mother saw me.
"Emma" why are you standing like that? My mother said with a tight smile, her voice at the edges of impatience. "Come here."
I took a deep breath and stepped forward but still my legs were slightly shivering. The man didn't blink at once. He was still staring– not politely– not casually– but with a quiet intensity of lust that made me feel like I was naked in front of him.
It seemed that a fucker man was searching for himself a slut. I'm not such a slut for him. I mumbled to myself. I cracked my finger as hesitation washed over my body.
I sat on the couch next to my mother and she placed her hand slightly around my waist. I could feel her pride in that simple touch like protective and safe shadow.
"This is my daughter" and she said to the man. "She turned eighteen just last week."
Oh! Now, full grown women. A hidden smirk tugged on the corner of his lips.
My mother's chuckle at his response.
I lifted my head slightly, only to find his dark green eyes still fixed on me. His gaze felt too intense- like he was trying to read me, own me. I couldn't take it anymore.
I stood up abruptly. "Excuse me," my voice barely above audible. I didn't wait for permission to stay once. I turned and walked away, feeling his eyes on my back until I disappeared upstairs.
One week later– Saturday night;
My parents were invited to a party that evening. As usual, they asked me repeatedly to come with them, but I ignored their requests before what I did. They were just using me for the sake of business. I knew they were paying attention to me just for work.
After they left, I curled up on the living room couch, and cartoons flashing across the screen. It felt comforting, the brightness, the voice brought to me another world, where I was flying in the cold and natural air.
My thoughts were broken due to knocking shattered on the door, not to be the first time, I tend to try many times.
A strange fear washed over me.
I sat up straight cautiously, staring at the door. Who could it be? My parents haven't mentioned anyone who came.
I approached slowly, my whole body was shaking and the floor creaking beneath my feet. I placed the hand on the handle when I opened it, I was startled to see my parents' business stand there.
I frowned, trying to hide my unease, especially his dark green eyes. "My parents aren't home." You should come back another time. First, I stuttered in front of him because I couldn't control my fear in front of him.
Before I could close the door, he pushed it gently but firmly open and stepped inside, closing it behind him.
Fear wrapped around me like a tight scarf. My body trembled as I took a step back, unsure what to do. He calmly walked over and sat on the couch, crossed his legs over as if he owned this place. He lifted his index finger and pointed at me. Not threatened. No angry. Just calmness.
"Come here," he said, his voice calm yet commanding.
I hesitated a bit, but something made me build up to provoking me, so I walked toward him. I stopped a few inches away. Without warning, he grasped my wrist gently but firmly, pulling me toward him. I stumbled and could not control my balance then next fall against his chest.
As breath caught in my throat as I landed on his chest. I could felt his heart beat when my breasts pressed against his hard-muscular chest. A shame mixed with rage courses through my body.
His big hand slipped down my back, too low and the rest of his other hand slide down my pants as my body tensed, every nerve has screaming. This is wrong.
My body froze against him for a moment, caught in a haze of fear and confusion.
Then I pushed back.
My encounter isn't too strong in front of his muscular body. When I pushed back he again got close enough to himself.
He looked down at me, amused. Like I was something fragile that couldn't possibly hurt him. His hand still rested at the curve of the back, but I wiggled away until I found enough space to step back.
"You should leave me," I said quietly, avoiding his eyes.
He didn't move. Instead, he leaned forward like he had all the time with me. "You're not like mother," he said, "You have fire inside you"
I flinched. The way he said it wasn't a compliment. It was a statement– like he'd already decided who I am for him.
"I said, leave me, I repeated, louder this time.
His smile faded. A dangerous calm settled over his features. "Emma" he said softly, like my name was something sacred on his tongue. I'm just here to talk to you.
For the first time, one of my parents' business partners who had talked with was so corporate, in a way I obsessed very sound him but I'm a little shy girl not reveal my thoughts to anybody's specially him.
He pulled me close enough to him- I felt that his bulge rocked on my hips.
With a mix of shyness and fearness, I stepped back again, until my shoe bumped into the side table. I reached behind it without thinking- my finger automatically closing around a heavy glass candle holder.
My heart was pounding badly so loudly I could barely hear myself. "If you don't leave, I'll scream. I don't care whose the people heard." I barked back at him.
His eyes flicked to my hand, then to my face. For the first time– he paused for a moment.
The silence stretched over the living room, the air was thick and suffocating me.
Then, slowly, he stood. His face wasn't angry or surprised, it must be something different inside him.
"Smart girl," he mumbled and headed out of the living room without speaking a single word.
The door shut clicked and I ensured that he'd left.
I stood there, shaking- the glass holder still in my hand, my breath struck somewhere between panic and relief.
For the first time in my life, I felt the sharp edges of something deep inside me–not fear but fight. A spark of confidence washed over me.
The way he'd looked at me. The way he'd called my name, so softly like the honey was dropping off. The way his presence filled the room was thick, intoxicated and dangerous.
I dropped the glass object on the table and backed away, retreating to the couch. But as I sat, my body still slightly trembled– not from fear now but from a stranger 's heat curling low in my belly. The memory of his hand on my delicate waist, the pressed of his chest, it was all trapping me to climb up in my nerves.
What is happening with me? What I'm thinking about him? Is he really important for me. I snarl, my finger were weaving through my hair.
A few minutes passed before I heard another sound come on the door, Gently. Then one pause, the door creaked open.
I stood quickly, panic returning again- my eyes darted back toward the door. But, It was him.
He stepped inside slowly, not saying a word. He didn't smile this time. His face was shadowed with something darker– something he hadn't shown off before.
"You didn't scream," he said, his voice low and cold.
"I should have," I whispered, avoiding eye contact.
He walked over closer, step by step and his every step made me shattered deeply inside.
He pulled my toward causing colliding both bodies. My breasts were pressed against his hard chest in a way of angeriness washed over me but his hand slid my pants where my brain clicked a knock while I wasn't wearing underwear.
As his hand stopped the rim of pants he undo my buttons of pants and pushed into my hairy pussy. wasn't shaved. His finger was flick all over my bud also searching my hole but he did fall.
His lips was brushing of my earlobes and his free hand was busy cupping off my b**b over the shirt and squeeze it harshly. I let out a soft moan into my plump lips.
"Where is your washroom?" his voice was dominated yet commanded. In my entire life, everyone even my parents were busy with work and didn't take a little bit time for me. The first time, someone was making love to me and also caring for my petite body.
"How can I ignore him?" I thought.
My nipples was hard under my lacy bra and huge warm hand was continuously fucking my vagina.
He again say, where is your washroom?" And now his voice was a bit of furious.
She replied and who picked up me like bride style and headed to my washroom. As we are approached who making sit of slab and my legs opened widened for himself. He pulled up my pants also my lacy pink underwear.
He h'd stop few minute like expression was unreadable for me.
His next step was dragging to me another world. He bent down and gripped my thighs apart and buried his face deeply in my pussy as it seems that I was flying on the moon.
And he opened my labia wider, while his nose was teasing my cunt with hand moving my neck, chest and stopping my hard nipples. He cupped both of b**b of palm and squeeze it harshly and roughly.
While he raised up his face and picked up my shaved machine from the slab, switch on, create a tiny pressure my pubic area.
My body skip a current when shaving me slowly around my fold as The whole time my eyes were locked on his bulge as I was thinking in my mind. What he will do and what his intentions are about me.
As he did it and washing my pussy with the soap and
wiping the water over my pussy with the towel. Again and again he was rubbing the towel over my fold and his thumb was moving back and forth under pussy lips.
Few moments later, he fuck me like that and I wraped my aroun
d legs his waist tightly in way of hard fabric shirt was stick it with also teasing my bud.
I gripped his shirt from the back tightly either in my first