Free The Affair: Week 4 by Beth Kery

I’d prefer to have the boundary there, to be honest. Both in the literal and figurative sense,” he added dryly. “But you’re very rare,” he continued slowly, his voice low and gravelly. She had a distinct mental image of him staring up into the darkness, his expression thoughtful. “I dislike myself enough at times. I couldn’t bear to make it any worse by . . .
spoiling
you in any way . . . something so fresh.” Her heart paused in her chest when he faded off. “It’s something I just couldn’t do,” he resumed more firmly. “So in short, the only thing I can give you is my word. Maybe that’s not enough for you. I can tell you this, though. When I was in high school and college, I was a walking, talking lit fuse. I was determined to travel fast and furious all the way to hell without even a brief stop. Nothing made sense to me. Nothing mattered. It’s a wonder I made it to adulthood alive. Then something happened that brought me to my senses, something that made me realize the one thing that did matter, the one thing I could control, was my word. I couldn’t control anything else but that. It became my anchor. If I said a thing was going to happen, it happened. Too much else in the world didn’t make a bit of sense, but
that
, I could control. I’ve fought to make that my reality ever since then.”
    She exhaled shakily and touched her lips to the crinkly hair on his chest. It felt like fingers clutched at her throat hearing him say those poignant words.
    “Emma?” he prompted after a moment.
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    His fingers moved on her scalp. “If I’m only going to have you for a limited period of time, I want you completely, and on my terms. Will you see Dr. Parodas tomorrow?”
    She should say no. She was crazy to be considering it. It was a level of intimacy far beyond their agreed-upon relationship. But the mental image she had of him staring up at the ceiling, believing himself to be protected by the darkness, plagued her.
    He was so alone, even here, while she was pressed so tightly to him, skin to skin. She wasn’t his savior. She wasn’t much of anything but a very average young woman. And yet, there was that connection she felt to him, a connection she couldn’t entirely explain away by naïve imagination.
    “Yes,” she whispered, forcing the word out of her constricted throat. “I’ll do it.”
    * * *
    He fell asleep before she did. Emma lay there, feeling the subtle rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek, entranced by the sensation, lulled by his clean, spicy scent mixing with the subtle perfume of sex, the fragrance heady and delicious. Being in Vanni’s arms cast a spell around her. The last thought she had before drifting off to sleep was that perhaps her entrancement was why she’d agreed to sacrifice so much of herself, when he was offering so little in return.
    * * *
    She awoke in a warm cocoon to the sensation of her sex being cupped in a possessive gesture while a large hand stroked the curve of her hip lazily. Emma realized she lay on her side, facing the windows while Vanni lay behind her, his long, hard body curling against her backside. His cock pressed against her ass, the only thing separating her from his stiff, pulsing erection a thin layer of cotton. Morning light filtered around the luxurious drapes. His fingers moved slightly on her sex and she purred sleepily.
    “I haven’t slept that well since I was a kid,” he said near her ear, the deep, raspy sound making the skin of her neck roughen. “But even so, all night I dreamed about this.” His fingers moved again subtly on her pussy. “Are you tender?”
    She bit her lip. “I’m fine,” she whispered. In fact, her sex ached with a dull throb. She wasn’t used to having as much sex as she’d had yesterday, nor was she accustomed to Vanni’s forceful, all-consuming manner of lovemaking. His hand stilled between her thighs. She felt his warm breath on her neck when he exhaled