The Forgotten Child

Chapter 21, The Forgotten Child

Chapter Twenty-One

Brad braced his wide, working man hand flat against the door, and just watched her through his heavy lidded gaze, the open question gone. Studying her now was a predatory man, who damn sure wasn't letting her leave this room, but not in a way that instilled fear in Emily. In this large, stately master bedroom filled with western oil paintings, mahogany furnishings and a large four-poster bed, neatly made with a floral duvet whispering the sensual invitation she'd longed for; she felt wanted, special.

Hypnotized, Emily faced the bed and stepped closer, touching the soft cotton duvet, absorbing the enormity of this step. Brad's arm slid around her waist and pulled her back into his intense heat. She couldn't turn around if she wanted. The top of her head leaned back against his shoulder, and she could feel every well-formed muscle in his chest against her back. He gently caressed her shoulder, his rough hand sliding under her shirt, setting her skin on fire. He lifted her long brown hair and held it up, exposing her silky skin as he applied tender nips with his teeth in between each gentle kiss down the side of her neck. Emily tilted her head back; a gift to allow him more access.

He tucked her hair over her other shoulder, and then trailed the tips of his fingers around the outline of her breasts while unbuttoning her shirt slowly and skillfully, one button at a time, with his other hand. She was weak from the hardness of him pressing into her from behind. It was so erotic, with his height and strength. The heightened passion left her anticipating, exposed, and at the same time, feeling safe. He didn't pause or fumble his way when smoothly opening her shirt and pulling up her bra to expose her breasts, as if he'd done this a thousand times. He then guided her down a sensual trail, an easy tug here and carefree twist there, massaging her nipple with his thumb, first one, and then the other. She reveled in his warm breath on her neck and shoulders, followed by a teasing path his tongue traveled over her exposed shoulder. He was driving her mad and she pulled at the arm anchored around her waist. But she couldn't budge him or make him go faster. He decided what to do and set the pace, which was so like him. He unsnapped her jeans and pulled the zipper down, creating such painful pleasure by inching his hand down through her feminine curls, rubbing her, claiming the prize when he slipped a finger inside of her. She heard herself moan, and felt herself spiral up, and she lost any semblance of control as he began to move and stroke, in and out. She clutched his arm; lost in an intense burning desire, wanting nothing more than for him to bury himself in her, hard and deep. "Please. I need you inside me. Now, please, Brad." Shameless, she begged, breathless, tossing her head side to side against his chest.

She felt the soft chuckle against the back of her neck. "Patience, Em, just enjoy."

He slipped off her shirt and bra and finally turned her to face him. She reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt. But her fingers were clumsy and trembled with need. He stopped her by covering her hands with his, as she stood before him naked to the waist. Her breasts displayed and ready for his enjoyment; even after nursing Katy, her breasts remained firm and a proud sumptuous handful.

Brad stepped back, his eyes took on a lazy drunken hue and he undid his buttons, pulled off his shirt, dumping it in a heap on the floor. His chest and shoulders were even better to look at naked than clothed. Reminiscent of a Greek statue: solid pecs, six-pack abs with light brown chest hair curling a path down to his navel before disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. Could it get any better? No way. At least Emily couldn't imagine how. Brad lifted her chin with his finger to meet the wide smile of his Cheshire grin.

"Soon."

He reached his hand around to the back of her head and claimed her mouth once again. Deeper this time as his tongue mated with hers. He lifted her leg up over his hip, anchoring her as he pulled her to him and rubbed against her, long, thick and hard pressing into her. She reached for him fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, as he strained against the tight stretched material.

Brad lowered her leg, and unfastened his jeans. All the while rubbing his other hand up her thigh, gently squeezing all the way up to where it joined in the center.

He lowered her onto the floral duvet. Standing over her, he hurried to divest her of her sneakers and socks, pulling off jeans and underwear in one swift motion. She now lay naked before him. She felt the heat of his eyes penetrate every inch of her. He was studying her slim belly, the few stretch marks, the firm thighs, and dark curls at her core. It was instinctive for her to spread her legs open. She wanted him now. But when he moved toward her, he grasped her knees and spread them wide, holding her secure so she couldn't move. He bent down and kissed her where she opened. The sear and jolt electrified her. Emily threw her hand up over her mouth, biting down on the meaty flesh to stifle the cry that erupted. He parted her with his fingers and she felt his tongue slide inside.

"Oh my God." Did she whisper or scream, she didn't know. Brad was a man in control. She was completely at his mercy. A place she'd never experienced with a man before, losing control as if she'd slipped over the edge on a wild ride at the fair. She reached out and grasped his short brown hair. Operating on pure instinct, she moved her hips, wanting him now buried deep and hard inside of her. He held her down and it hit her hard and explosively. Rippling through her, a burning intensity that spun and tilted her until she thought she'd come apart. Stifling her scream, she tossed her head from side to side.

She heard it again, in a far distant place, a different cry, not hers. Emily drifted in between bits and pieces of conscious reality away from the heavenly abyss where she floated. Awareness chilled her shaking, limp thighs; she was by no means sated, she needed him.

Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath and she heard it again. A crying child—Katy. Brad released her, swearing under his breath as he backed away, running his fingers though his hair. His desire sparked a bitter fire in his eyes. It'd see no relief.

Emily wanted to curse and cry for the moment lost, but her child came first—before her own needs. She rolled and slipped off the bed on shaky legs. She pulled on her shirt and stepped into her jeans. She lowered her eyes to pale blue carpet. Reality could be cruel, like a splash of icy water, uncertain. What now? She held her shirt closed as she hurried to the door, yanked it open, and hustled down the hall. Katy sat in the middle of her twin bed, rubbing her eyes, clutching her blue blanket and whimpering. Not a sound from Trevor; however, if she didn't quiet Katy quickly, he'd soon be awake too, and that wouldn't be good. Emily gathered Katy into her arms and kissed away her tears, lifting her up with her blanket and cradling her as she tiptoed across the hall to her room. "Shh, baby girl. Mama's got you, shh."

Katy rested her head on Emily's shoulder. She grasped Emily's open shirt with her tiny fists as her sobbing subsided. Emily walked in a circle and turned to the door. Brad leaned in dressed once again. The expression on his face was odd. Almost strange, one she'd never seen before.

"Is she okay?" His voice was gruff, but full of concern.

She whispered, "Yes. I think she just had a bad dream, she should go right back to sleep." He said nothing, and he didn't move. "You're a good mother, Em. Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning."

Her stomach ached with that awful empty yearning. Tonight with Brad was over now. She craved his touch, but she couldn't will him back. The heavy lump in her throat hurt. In the darkness she held her daughter, listening to the soft click of his door. Emily closed her eyes tight, mourning her loss as she hummed softly, until Katy's breathing evened out and she knew she'd fallen back to sleep.

Instead of putting Katy back in her own bed, Emily tucked her in her bed, watching her peaceful, angelic face. Emily slid off her shirt and realized she'd left her bra, underwear, socks, shoes, and sweater strewn on Brad's bedroom floor. Emily winced when cold reality sank in; Brad may've come to his senses. First thing tomorrow, she'd retrieve her things in a walk of shame.