THEO
The second we get home, Emmie marches to her room and slams the door.
“Night, then,” I call out, my voice heavy with sarcasm.
She mumbles something behind the solid wood. Some cutting remark, I’m sure, but I don’t hang around to get her to repeat it.
I’m dead. There might be a part of me that’s willing to spar with her into my early hours in the hope of softening her up a little, but there’s a bigger part that’s too exhausted.
My eyes are burning and my muscles ache.
I shed my clothes the second I step into my room, folding them neatly and leaving them on the chair—something I’m sure Emmie hasn’t done.
I discover I’m right not two minutes later when I pull up the camera feed from her room and find it covered in discarded clothes and the rest of her shit.
A groan rumbles up my throat at the sight, but I quickly ignore all of that in favour of her.
She was even faster than me in getting undressed and climbing into bed.
I can’t see as much as I might like, but with her leg out of the covers, I can tell that she’s wearing one of my shirts again. When I zoom in, I swear she’s not wearing any fucking knickers.
Does she know I can see her?
“Fuck,” I hiss, wrapping my hand around my length.
She’s right across the hall.
Take what you want.
It’s never stopped you in the past.
Why is it that I’m suddenly concerned about morals and doing the right thing?
With her sleeping form filling my screen, I stroke myself slowly, tempted to grab that damn tub of Vaseline.
In the end, I go for something much better.
I pad across the hall naked, my aching cock jutting out in front of me, and silently slip into her room.
Her soft snores fill the space as I make my way around the bed so I can see her.
My back presses against the wall and I wrap my fingers around my length once more. It might not be as good as her touch, but with her scent filling my nose and her right in front of me, it’s a hell of a lot better.
In no time at all, my balls are drawing up and I paint my cum over her lips. The second her tongue sneaks out to lap it up, I’m rocking a semi again.
“Jesus, Hellcat,” I mutter, stumbling back until I collide with the wall.
I slide down, my arse hitting the soft carpet as I watch her, feeling my limbs getting heavy the longer I sit there.
* * *
I awake with a start and blink in confusion when I don’t immediately recognise where I am.
“Shit,” I hiss, realising I’m curled up on the floor in Emmie’s room.
My gaze shoots to the bed, but I quickly realise she’s still out cold.
“Fuck.”