“Desiree?” she called back. Another girl, dressed as a cat—an actual cat, not one of those slutty excuses for costumes some girls wear—waved happily.
“My house is that one there,” she said, pointing two houses down. “I want to show her my new mood board. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
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Emily didn’t answer right away, and when she glanced over her shoulder to look at me, as if to ask permission, I gave it to her with my eyes.
“Okay,” she called back. “But not too long!”
“Thank you!” Margaret called back. The girls raced up the road, and as soon as they were heading up the steps to Desiree’s house, I had Emily in my arms and was closing the door behind us.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I told her. “Longer…than I should have.”
“You—you’re not just saying that?”
“I would never lie to you, princess,” I replied, shocked that she could even suggest such a thing. “Since that day before graduation, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”
I pulled back and looked at her, unable to believe what I was hearing.
“Other girls?” I asked. “What other girls?”
“Oh, come on, Mr. Cox—”
“Dylan,” I corrected her.
“I—everyone knows all the girls love you,” she said, averting her eyes from mine. But I wasn’t having that. I took her by the chin and made her look at me.
“The girls might have their eyes on me,” I told her. “But I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”
Her cheeks flushed again and my dick pulsed between my legs, yearning for her tight little slit. She was here in my arms—it felt incredible—but I needed more.
“You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” I asked her.
Emily shook her head. “You’re—you’re just being nice.”
“Please,” I scoffed. “You say all the girls are looking at me? Well, you’re one to talk!”
“What do you mean?”
“I saw all the boys at school staring at you when you went by in the hall,” I replied, gritting my teeth as I thought back to all those teenage hornballs checking out my princess. “And I’m sure it’s the same at your college.”
“Not really,” she whispered. “I don’t even have a boyfriend.”
I tried not to, but I smiled and quickly followed it up so she wouldn’t misinterpret.
“You really are innocent.”
But she still didn’t understand and looked away again, almost like she was ashamed of being untouched. And again, I pulled her face to mine.
“I like it, Emily.”
She looked up at me and I almost lost myself in her sparkling eyes.
“You do?” she whispered.
“I love it,” I corrected myself. “And I have to have you. You want that, don’t you?”