His to Have (A Claimed Story Book 2) (7 page)

E
mma has come
to help Ryan and me pack our belongings at our apartment in Chattanooga; we’re moving home. Clarification: Ryan, Brantley, and Drake are moving home. I’m renting an apartment in Lynchburg about ten minutes from the Briggs residence so I can be close to my girl.

I took extra hours and graduated a semester earlier than Ryan, Brantley, and Drake. Got my master’s in accounting seven months ago and started out commuting to my job in Lynchburg. Ninety minutes one way from Chattanooga. It made zero sense to spend fifteen hours a week driving back and forth, but more importantly, commuting stole precious time from Emma. Staying at my parents’ house in Lynchburg made more sense. And it meant I could see Em whenever she was able to slip away from her parents.
Damn, we’ve done a lot of sneaking around to be together for the last few months.

The five of us—Ryan, Brantley, Drake, Em, and I—are in Chattanooga tonight. Tomorrow is moving day so it’s our last night in the two neighboring apartments we’ve shared for the last four years. I’m not sad but my pals are seriously mourning the loss of their freedom. It has to suck knowing you’ve been living on your own for years and now you’re moving back to live with your parents. No more college fun for those three fuckers.
Time to adult.

Leaving this life behind doesn’t bother me. I have everything I need waiting for me in Lynchburg.

What does bother me is that Em’s asleep across the hall. Ryan gave her his bed for the night. Sort of. He got trashed and passed out on the couch downstairs.

Emma Briggs: within my reach yet completely unobtainable.

Ain’t that always the case with her?

Sleep isn’t even close to claiming me when my bedroom door opens and a soft, warm, luscious body slides in next to me. “Em, what the fuck are you doing? Ryan will kill me if he finds you in my bed.”

“He’s had so much liquor he’s dead to the world … at least until lunch tomorrow.”

Emma crawls over my body to straddle my hips, kissing the side of my neck, and rocking her pussy against my erection. “Why do you do this to me when you know I can’t touch you?”

“You’ve been saying for months you can’t touch me.” She grabs my hands and puts them on her waist as she rolls her hips in a circular motion. “I. Say. You. Can.”

That’s what my dick keeps telling me, too. I think the two of them are in cahoots.

Touching her now could end badly. I won’t chance ruining this. “The state of Tennessee says I can’t but it’s really not about the law. It’s about your brother, my best friend, and what he’ll do to me if I touch you one minute before you turn eighteen.”

“Tennessee is so dumb for making eighteen the age of consent. It’s sixteen in almost every other state. But I have news for you, Ben. You’re still going to be six years older than me after my birthday. I’m never going to catch you. Ryan isn’t going to be on board with us being together regardless of my age. I’m always going to be his baby sister.”

“I have a better chance at survival if we wait.”

It’s been three
long
months. My cock has stayed hard with only the little bit of relief my hand could provide. I’ve ached with need to be inside this girl. Every. Fucking. Day.

No one can believe Ben Westbrook stopped screwing everything with a hole. They’re all burning with the same question: Why?

Only one answer.
Her.

Emma Kate Briggs.

I love the fuck out of this girl. Obsessed like a goddamn madman. I can’t get enough and I haven’t even fucked her yet. We’ve barely even touched. Kisses—that’s all I’ve allowed. But not after next week.

I’m going to fuck every hole she has.

She grinds against my hard dick. Dry humping. That’s what kids do, but I’m no kid. Haven’t been for a while.

That damn devil is sitting on my shoulder, yelling in my ear.
Fuck what everyone thinks or says. Take her. She’s yours. And she’ll feel so good.
That son of a bitch has taken up permanent residence there since I started seeing Em. I’ve ignored him for three months. But not tonight. “Show me your pussy. I want to see what I’ve waited so long to have.” I know it’s wrong even as the words leave my mouth but I can’t help myself. I’m a horny motherfucker who can’t touch the girl he loves.
I need something, maybe just a taste, to get me by until I can truly have her next week.

I turn on the bedside lamp after she moves off me. Her dark hair is in a messy bun on top of her head and she’s wearing knee socks, pink cotton panties and one of my old concert T-shirts. I get even harder and pre-cum leaks from the tip of my dick when I see the dark pink circle in the crotch of her panties. “Fuck, Em. I can see how wet you are.”

Her legs fall apart and she touches the wet spot with her fingertips.
Just like so many of my fantasies.
“The proof of how much I want you.”

I’ve never touched her pussy. I don’t know what it feels like to run my fingers through her folds when they’re slick from need and desire. Or what it feels like to push my fingers inside her sweet little wet cunt while she rides my hand. Or what it feels like to push my finger into her tight puckered hole.

But I’m going to know.
Only seven more days.

“Take off your panties.” She pushes her thumbs inside the waistband and lifts her sweet cheeks as she shimmies them down her hips and legs. She presses her knees together, reminding me she’s never been naked in front of a man until now.
She looks so innocent like that.

I hold out my hand. “Give them to me.”

She hands over her underwear and I bring them to my nose. My dick dribbles again when I smell her feminine fragrance, her sweet nectar filling my lungs. “You smell fucking delicious.”

“Take off your shirt. I want to see your tits.” I’ve spent months picturing what they look like. And now I’m going to find out.

She crisscrosses her hands and pulls her shirt up and over her head, exposing her full, lush breasts. “So fucking beautiful, Emma.”

She cups them from below and pushes them up and together.
Holy. Shit. She looks like a naughty schoolgirl in those fucking socks.

“You’ve never touched them.”

“And I won’t now either even though I’m dying to. Trust me. I want to pinch and suck them so fucking bad I can hardly stand it.”
Maybe even titty-fuck them if she’ll let me.
Her breath hitches and I wonder for a sliver of a second if I said that last part out loud. “That’s right, Emma. I’m going to touch them. Suck them. Pinch them. Bite them. You’ll wear my mark when I’m finished with you.”

Dilated pupils have made her normally blue eyes nearly black. “That’s what I want, Ben. To wear your mark. To be all yours.”

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