Emma Ch. 02

Author's Note: Hello my dear Readers! I suppose I have kept you waiting long enough, so here is chapter two (finally!) for you all to enjoy. I love seeing comments and feedback so drop a few words if you have them. I do my best to respond to all of them. Until next time!

*****

Emma jerked awake the following afternoon and found herself utterly alone. Whether that disappointed or relieved her more, she could not say for sure, but she knew that she could not face William yet, and definitely not in the light of day.

She was naked she realized. Her nightgown had been removed from her sometime after she had fallen asleep. Apparently, he stayed long enough fold it neatly and set it atop her duvet at the foot of her bed. How was she supposed to feel about that?

She felt like a raped virgin, her cunt sore and tender, her muscles aching everywhere, and her eyes swollen from crying. She was emotionally and physically rubbed raw.

Her legs were unsteady under her weight as she stumbled out of bed, but she somehow made it to her bathroom. When she saw that her window was still wide open, panic gripped her. She rushed over to crank it closed, bolting it securely the moment it slammed shut. Afterwards, she had to take a moment to regain herself, holding herself up on the windowsill in her white-knuckled grip. Her breathing under control, she turned only to freeze in place at the sight of herself in the full-length mirror on the sliding door of her bathtub.

She brought her hand to touch her reddened bee-stung lips, her fingertips lightly brushing the cut on her bottom lip where he had bitten her. She turned her head and saw the purplish bruise where he had backhanded her, and let her fingers linger there too. She swallowed with difficulty as she lifted her head to touch and examine the marks his hand had left along her neck. Tears welled in her eyes at the frightening memory of how hard he had squeezed her there. Her eyes lowered to her breast, and she noticed their angry red color, from his attentions. When she gently cupped them in her palms she realized that they too were tender and sensitive to the touch. Her wrists had not gone unscathed either, her delicate skin raw and chaffed from being bound.

The proverbial dam broke then, and there was nothing that she could do to prevent the sob that burst forth. She was weeping uncontrollably, crumpling to the bathroom floor, her legs curled beneath her, her hands covering her face. She was angry, guilt-ridden, and very confused by what had occurred the night before, but more so by her responses than his actions. He had branded and marked her, and yet, not every single part of her had been, or was even now, wholly objectionable to the treatment. It was that part of her that that made her think twice about what she thought she knew about herself, or about her desires. And it scared her, the feelings that the memories wrought from her. She was sexually aroused at the memories of their violent coupling.

Her tears slowed, as she recalled another memory from the previous night. It was a vague one that left her feeling even more confused about the man and about herself. If her semi-conscious memory was to be believed, at dusk that morning, William had brought a bowl of steaming soap water and a washcloth to her bedside and bathed her.

She remembered that he had been quiet as he administered to her body, taking great care as he wiped her clean with the wetted cloth. He had dipped the cloth back into the hot water often, as if to ensure that it was not too cold when it touched her skin. He bathed her every nook and cranny, and limp limbs with quick efficiency, saving her most private part for last. When his attentions finally did come to the space between her thighs, he slowly swabbed his dried cum from her vulva with the utmost care, ever mindful of her discomforted hissing, which he gently shushed. Cleaning done, he had blown his cool soothing breath upon the seam of her pussy until she was dry, and then lightly pressed his warm soft lips there in a kiss that was more penitent than erotic. It had worked on her like the greatest healing balm in existence, and she had promptly sunk back to a deep sleep as he tucked the blankets back around her.

That memory made her disgusted at herself, because it made her heart swell with warmth and affection... It was appalling to realize that she was actually attracted and aroused by the rough strong man who had selfishly taken what he wanted last night, and it terrified her that she missed and yearned for the side of him that kissed her so sweetly and held her so protectively afterwards. She rarely, in all her life, experienced that sense of security in another persons arm, and never with a man. How fucked up was it that he was also the one to make her feel unsafe in her own home?

The sun was already starting to set by the time Emma snapped out of her stupor and realized she was still sitting on her bathroom floor, her body trembling from the cold. She felt brittle and weak, but she picked herself up from the floor and got into the shower. The water was too hot, scorching almost, to her chilled body, but she didn't care. She scrubbed herself until she had nearly used up all of her body wash and her skin burned. Then she made quick work of drying herself off and climbed back into bed where she would spend nearly all of her time for the remainder of her weekend.

---<@EW@>---

Emma felt exhausted even though she had spent the majority of the past two days, and that very morning, curled up dazedly in bed. She slid her keys into the doorknob of her apartment, struggling a bit as she was hauling a huge bag of groceries that her manager had sent her home with.

After skipping her classes that morning, Emma had forced herself to go to work that afternoon. She was almost immediately pulled aside by her manager, Alice, because of the visible bruises she had no hope of disguising with make up. Emma had burst into inconsolable tears after a quarter hour of being questioned, but refused to answer her manager's concerned inquiries. Alice had not pushed her any further, but from the pitying looks that she received from the older woman, Emma could tell that Alice had developed her own theories, which were probably not too far off the mark. To her immense relief, Alice then gave her two weeks off, one of which was paid, and bought her a bag of groceries to take home. It was all done with the understanding that her work would not be effected by the time she returned to her duties. Emma had never been more grateful to another person in her life.

Emma slid the bolt on her door into a locking position with a satisfying click and then slid her chain lock into place. She flicked on the lights before walking sedately across her small living room to the hallway that led to the kitchen and other rooms. When she reached the doorway to her kitchen and dining area she stopped dead in her tracks. She would have dropped her groceries if she did not snatch it to her chest as if it could protect her, and she just knew she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

It was evening, and though the sun hadn't completely set her kitchen was mostly shrouded in darkness. Even so, she knew in her heart what the dark silhouette at the opposite side of the room was. William sat at her small dining table for two, at the opposite wall, but at her appearance he got up slowly to his feet. He stood in the last rays of light that shone through the single small window to her right.

By god! He looked good. His strong squared jaw was dark with unshaven hair. His body was muscled and broad, and he was a very tall man, making her already small kitchen look pathetically tiny. When she met his dark brown eyes they were smoldering. He looked ready to spring at her at any second, which made her heart drum an excited beat. It was all so wrong.

"Where have you been?" His voice was gravely, like he hadn't spoken in a while.

There was another long silence that followed as she watched him eye her from head to foot, lust darkening his features the longer his eyes undressed her. She swallowed hard. Her nipples hardened, and her pussy tingled at his perusal. She was mortified by her reactions to him.

He took a step forward. She took two steps back, shaking her head and saying, "Don't."

"Emma..." She turned and bolted with her groceries still clutched to her chest.

"Emma! For fuck's sake!" He cursed behind her.

She was already at the end of the hallway when she heard his footsteps thumping after her, but when she reached the middle of her living room, her escape in sight, he caught her up in his arms and lifted her high into the air.

"Let go of me!" She shrieked finally dropping her bag of groceries to the floor. Vegetables, fruits, and cans spilled out into the middle of her living room as she struggled in his arms.

"Stop!"

"No! Let go of me!" Then she bucked hard, hard enough that one of his hands lost its grip on her, and for a heart-stopping moment she thought she was going to break her face by landing on it, but he caught her just in the nick of time.

"Dammit!" He growled, striding over to the couch with her in tow at an awkward sideways dangle, but she was too startled to make another struggle.

When he tossed her onto her couch, it jarred some sense back into her and she immediately jumped to her feet to face him. For long moments, that was all they did. She was glaring up at him. Her face flushed and frustrated tears starting to form in her eyes. He was angry again, his stubbled jaw clenched tightly.

She shoved at him, growling when she only seemed to bounce off of his hard immovable chest. Amusement flashed in his eyes. She shoved again, harder. He obliged her by taking a small step back, which made her angrier.

"Get out of my house!" She commanded with another push, and he took another step back.

"Stop it." He warned.

She struck his chest with a fist. "Fuck you!"

She thoroughly expected him to strike her back, but when he didn't, she hit him again, and again, and again, until she was beating his chest and screaming, "I hate you! I hate you! I fucking hate you, you sick fuck!"

He snatched her wrists in his hands and squeezed hard enough that it made her almost squeak in pain. She sucked in a short breath in time for his mouth to slam down to hers, their teeth clacking and her barely healed lips smashing painfully together with his. His tongue pushed inside and licked her, and she shoved at him. All the good that did for her, he did not budge an inch.

"No!" She cried out, turning her head from his. Somehow his arms hand wound all around her and her small body was held crushed together with his from their pressed cheeks to tangled legs, and it felt so right that her proclamation sounded like the stupidest idea ever. Still, she persisted, "Stop!"

"I can see you want me too. Why do you deny it?" He asked harshly, lightly shaking her.

"You raped me! How could I want you?" She answered, hoping that by saying it out loud, it would bring her to her senses. That it would make her want him less, but all it did was make her a liar.

His hand gripped one of her thighs and effortlessly hoisted it up so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist. His trim hips fit between her thighs like they were two pieces to a puzzle.

"Rape? You were willing and you know it."

His dark eyes and hardened face, dared her to deny it, but she couldn't. Not with the memories clearly attesting to the fact that she had indeed been, "willing"...for the most part. And with his warm male body flushed to hers, reminding her of how it felt to be underneath him, at his mercy and at his will; she definitely could not deny it. He had her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face this way as his eyes searched her face.

"I was not willing!" She vehemently denied anyways.

His eyes flickered with temper, though he did not say anything immediately in response to her pronouncement, he just started to slide one of his big hands down her slender back, over the curve of her ass, and inside her baggy work jeans. It took great effort, but his fingers inched lower and lower until his fingertips curled up under her ass to her press into her cunt through her panties. She gasped, stilling and staring wide-eyed down in to his heated gaze.

Things just took a turn in a completely different direction. Her body felt hot and tingly all over as his large fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric of her underwear to stroke and massage at her moistening slit.

"Weren't you?" He asked against her parted mouth.

For the life of her, she couldn't recall what he was referring to. One of his thick long fingers slid into her slick opening, and in response, she took her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from moaning in pleasure, but she suspected that the way her eyes rolled back and fluttered close was a dead give away anyways. His finger pumped inside of her in tortuously slow motions, and her head hung back as she breathed heavily through her nose.

"How can it be called rape when you are so willing and wet for me?" His words were like faint white noise, easily ignored, but annoying all the same, so she focused on humping his finger instead. That, at least, felt great.

"Look at me!" He demanded curtly, and she did.

He dug two fingers into her weeping cunt and said, "You wanted it, didn't you?"

Her breaths were ragged and she was moaning from his words. It was true. It was all fucking true. She wanted him now too.

"Didn't you?" He repeated the question.

He actually wanted her to admit it out loud? She bit her bottom lip and stubbornly said nothing.

A wicked grin curled the corners of his lips, and it was such a handsome look that she wanted to do violence to him for the unfairness of it all. Then, he slipped his fingers out of her and she almost did commit violence, but settled for whimpering mournfully at the loss.

"Tell me, and I will fuck you like you want, Emma. Your hungry little hole needs to be fucked rough and raw."

"You are so sick." She told him instead, her voice soft and airy.

"Says the woman who was just humping my fingers. The fingers of her supposed rapist." She flushed red, both embarrassed by the truth in his words and indignant of them.

She sputtered unintelligibly. He snorted at her momentary disability, and she was so incensed by it that she surprised them both by slapping him quite soundly.

She took a sharp intake of breath her eyes rounded with shock. Damn her temper! He ground his teeth together, looking slightly crazed with wrath. One minute she was looking into his eyes and the next she had been tossed over his shoulder being carried in the direction of her bedroom.

"William, wait! Just wait a minute! Ompf!" She had been dropped unceremoniously onto her bed, the lights seeming to flick on at the same time that she sat up to see him going for her.

She tried to scramble away, but he caught her tight around her ankle and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He leaned over her, while she lay terrified and prostrate on the foot of the bed.

"I've warned you not to hit me!"

"You've hit me!" she pointed to her cheek. "Made me bleed even!" she indicated her cut lip.

He recoiled as if she had just struck him again and stood, pacing the floor before her like a wild animal.

"If you had just approached me like a regular human being, I..." Emma blurted.

He stilled, and looked down at her. She turned away, embarrassed.

"You, what?" He asked softly.

"You KNOW what." She replied with an eye roll.

He walked up between her parted thighs and knelt down. He was so tall that his hips came level with hers even on his knees. His mouth was curled in a grin that had her heart beating like she was having a palpitation, and when his front pressed flush on her pliable body, bringing their faces an inch apart, she dared not breath.

"Tell me." He insisted, one finger stroking her brow.

"I would have loved it." She admitted against his lips.

He set upon her like a starved beast. His mouth was hot, his tongue agile and skillfully mapping out the inner contours of her mouth and tongue. His hands were tugging at her clothes. She helped him undress herself, wriggling out of her pants when he unbuttoned them and straightening her arms when he took the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head. He pulled back and stilled when he saw what she had been wearing underneath. She tried not to blush under his intent examination.

Emma had always been a practical girl. Being orphaned and alone for the majority of her life made her that way, but she had one vice. She loved buying expensive lingerie. That evenng she had a coral-colored lacy number on. It consisted of a wireless bra with a plunging V neckline and matching bikini panties that barely covered her asscheeks, not the sexiest lingerie in existence, but wearing it had made her feel pretty.

His reaction, however, made her feel beautiful, gorgeous even. His mouth hung slightly agape, a look of wonder on his stunned face. His hand was to his chest and she saw a whooshing breath escape through his pursed lips as if he had just been felled. She may have suspected that the reaction had been calculated or preplanned if he had been any other man, but he was William. He only knew how to be authentic, which was what made him so odd, and it was what had appealed to her so much.

"Incredible." He croaked.

His eyes were glued to the heaving lifts and falls of her modest breasts and, unable to control himself, his hand reached slowly, as if afraid, up toward one of those lace-clad breasts. She breathed faster, the anticipation painful. Her body was motionless as she followed the progress of his hand. When it finally covered her breast, her eyes grew lidded and a content sigh escaped her parted lips, her nipple, which had been peaked from desire and the chill, soothed in the warmth of his hand.

He palmed and weighed her while she studied his reaction, realizing that she barely filled his large hand. For one short moment she regretted that her breast was not ample enough to fill his hand more fully, until his breaths grew harsh and ragged and suddenly both breast were caught in his hands.

"So soft." He said, hands squeezing her breast gently, and then continued with such heartfelt sincerity that Emma turned into jelly. "So. Fucking. Perfect." His hand clamped harder, rougher, around her flesh with every word, until she could not hold back a strangled, "Ungh!"

She blushed furiously as his eyes shot to hers in acknowledgment of that undeniably lusty sound that had been torn from her. When he grinned, not maliciously as he had before, but with a boyish satisfied quality, she leaned forward to press their mouths together, trying to hide her own shy smile.

Initially it was just a soft mating of lips their mouths touching with gentle pressure. And then one of his hands slid up her chest, brushed her collarbone, and glided up the slope of her slender neck to cup the side of her face. He turned her face slightly to the side and he fitted his opened mouthed kiss to hers, deepening it. His tongue probed her mouth, and she met it happily, their tongues dancing sensuously.

One of her hands combed through his soft thick hair, the other somehow found its way under his shirt and stilled over his thumping heart. Meanwhile, his tongue had retreated from her mouth, causing her to desperately seek out the appendage, chasing it into his mouth where he subjected her tongue to the same sucking treatment she had given him earlier. She groaned loud and uninhibited, her pussy throbbing. She was impassioned by his oral skills and by the branding warmth of his other calloused hand busily wandering over her bared belly, thighs, back, and shoulders. He seemed determined to have his hands on every inch of her and she wanted the same.