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A carmine silhouette flooded your vision as you entered the bedroom, the distinct scent of smoke fizzling from a cigarette that dangled from her fingers. Emily regarded you with a knowing smirk having instantaneously secured your undivided attention, the intricate lace adornments fixated below your gaze as an air of suspicion cast its shadow. Beneath the subtlety of the surrounding candlelight, Emily was elysian, skin aglow with the gentlest spark of orange.
On the exterior, the scene oozed romance, her motives unsullied, though you knew that this was merely a distraction tactic of the deliberate kind. No, she was in pursuit of ridding a very particular memory from your mind.
Emily’s stare was unwavering as she sucked in another mouthful of smoke, wordless temptation suspended in the space between you. Daringly, she widened her thighs, offering a fleeting glimpse of what lay below, purposefully long enough for you to deduce that her panties were crotchless. Subconsciously, your tongue swiped across your lips and for a split second, the upper hand found itself in her possession.
“You look hungry,” she lured, sexily, her free hand meandering until it settled between her legs, two fingers trailing across her exposed flesh in a valiant attempt at seducing you. “Why don’t you come and have a taste, hm?”
Deviously, she plucked the cigarette from her lips, replacing its absence with her arousal-covered digits, suckling them clean with sounds of zeal, excitement, eyes peeking open to assure your continual supervision of her. And she need not have questioned your observation of her for a second, engrossed in a way so resolute that you were almost tempted to set aside your plans and relinquish to senseless desire.
“You really think you deserve my mouth on you?” You asked, stoically, a wry chuckle tumbling out of you when you noted the sudden disappearance of her smug little simper. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you did, sweetheart?”
A conspicuous glimmer of fear, of doubt materialised upon her face and only added to your entrancement of her. She gulped audibly, but the inadvertent display of nervousness was soon dismissed with a slight shake of her head.
“I wish I could help you,” she shrugged, feigning ignorance, her gaze averted as she discarded her cigarette into the ashtray upon the bedside table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A conceited smile remained bitten behind pursed lips, paled as she crawled to the edge of the bed to gain closer proximities, to rile you further you assumed.
“I had a very enlightening conversation with Doug Bailey,” you revealed, frankly, stepping forwards to clasp her jaw within your hand and observing as her irises kindled with lust. “He told me all about the clever little stunt you pulled today in the interrogation room.”
The harshened force that you had exerted around her jaw did nothing to deter her biting remarks, a grin activating, sizzling stabs of adrenaline piercing into you in response to her defiance.
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” she denied, cockily, her attitude beginning to hack away at your self-control.
“How convenient,” you growled, releasing her abruptly to curl a finger below her chin, drawing her towards you until your lips were just short of making a connection with hers. “Apparently, Mommy put on a hell of a show for one lucky murderer.”
Emily hummed in faux surprise, her eyes widening to garnish the masquerade into believability. It was a game to her, always had been, bumping up against the boundary until you forcibly yanked her away from it. She never won, never had, though it never prevented her from playing, if anything, it only seemed to heighten the appeal.
“But you didn’t stop there,” you husked, a tinge of anger pricking at your composure. “No, you unbuttoned your shirt for him, didn’t you, baby?” You questioned, hotly, your jaw flexing with intensity. “And bent all the way over that interrogation table so he could take a good, hard look at you.”
The sound of cachinnation blurted out to hinder the flitting silence, ebbing out once Emily recognised the familiarity of the expression that you were sporting, wrathful, unpredictable. She leaned in, enticingly, her mouth agape and breezing air against your lips with each lengthened exhale, as if she was mustering the courage to do something that was certain to induce a marked response.
“It worked like a charm,” she admitted, boldly, her words kissing against you. “You should have seen the way he looked at me,” she continued, fixed, unafraid, her eyes falling to a close with a contented sigh, as if she was recalling it with fondness to incite maximal rage. “If Bailey wasn’t behind the glass, I bet he-“
Emily’s sentence was forsaken to be stolen away, her breath held captive by your sturdy hand enfolded around her throat. She spluttered, let out a wavering gasp, her consciousness waning and re-emerging with the varying pressure that you applied.
“Oh, I’ll bet,” you gnarled, viciously, a maniacal smirk fused to your lips as you basked in her state of incapacitation, admired her in all of her glory. “Did you like it, huh? Whoring yourself out for a criminal?” You probed, intimidatingly, your hand mirroring the force of your words, constricting until an almost undetectable squeak escaped her. “Is that what you are, baby? A whore?"
Emily’s thighs pressed snugly together as she knelt on the edge of the mattress, fixed in position with no way to break free of you. It was only when a reticent groan bled out into the deafening quiet that you realised that she was reaping gratification from her crafty manoeuvres. Her eyes bored into yours, scorching with allure, her mouth open as she gathered the coherency to utter a word.
“Be very careful with your next words,” you warned, thwarting her before she had the opportunity to instigate her own ruin. “Your oxygen is at my disposal, baby,” you cooed, a scoff bursting from you as Emily jolted physically at the prospect. “Wouldn’t want you to pass out now, would we?”
Emily released a pathetic whine, one that only grew in volume when you administered a squeeze of reiteration around her slender neck. She writhed lightly in your grasp, her mind wiped clean of thoughts, dizzied by the oxygen depletion with nothing but nonsensical fragments spilling from her lips.
“No,” she rasped, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes as she tried avidly to will them away. “I’m only yours, Daddy,” she insisted, fervently, despite the fact that she was breathless, weary.
“There’s my good girl,” you extolled, loosening your hold until it vanished, Emily appearing to float away in the absence of pressure, her head bobbing around gently as its weight restored. “Now, let Daddy take a look at you, hm?”
Softly, you guided her onto her back, her pussy occluded by the arousal that had amassed during your exacerbation of her. She was swollen, desperate, so much that you almost pledged to give in, just once.
“Please,” she murmured, completely malleable below your hands as her pussy twitched with every painstaking stroke to her clit, her back arching upward from the bed with verve. “Fuck, I need you, Daddy.”
Your sudden retreat saw her scrambling up onto her elbows to discern your whereabouts, creeping over to your newfound position against the pillows.
“Disobedient sluts don’t get rewards, you know that, sweetheart,” you reminded, softly, your fingers caressing her silver tresses with affection. “But it would be a shame to waste those pretty panties, hm?”
Emily offered a zealous nod, her interest roused as she awaited instruction, eager to obey you. The palm of your hand met your thigh, your eyes flickering in an unspoken demand and Emily was quick to oblige as she settled herself atop it.
“Are you going to let me cum, Daddy?” She questioned, a lilt of hopefulness in her voice, her lip captured between her teeth.
“If you behave,” you acceded, feasting on the view before you, your thigh soaked with arousal from the way her pussy smothered against your skin. “Maybe you can put on a show for me, hm, sweetheart? Since you are so good at it as you said.”
A testy frown tugged at her face, soon to be transformed into one of utmost enjoyment as she ground her hips down against your thigh, gyrating slowly, sensually with her eyes trained wholly on you.
“Such a pretty slut,” you cooed, lovingly, taken by the way her hips rolled until her movement had mesmerised you, unable to draw your attention from her, not ever wanting to. “All mine.”
“Do you like it, Daddy?” She moaned, breathily, glazed over as she regarded you, her pupils blown, her jaw slackened until it hung wide to draw in shaky breaths. “Am I being, mhm… good?”
Her aura expelled warmth, her form illuminated at its edges like some kind of deity and you vowed to worship at the altar of her if it meant that you could have her like this for eternity.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” you assured, tenderly, your hands springing to grope at her breasts, your thumbs sliding over her lace-clad nipples just to watch her rhythm falter, propelled into sporadic chaos. “So desperate to cum for me, hm?”
Emily rutted with ardor, her clit pushing into your thigh with a rapidly mutating pace, her hands flailing to reach out for you, to attain some stability.
“Gonna cum,” she blurted, mindlessly, her expression overtaken by the forceful craving to come undone, to find alleviation. “Can I cum, Daddy?”
“Cum for me, sweetheart,” you coaxed, intently, your hands sinking against her hip bones as a means of encouragement, observing with delight as she lost control before you, trembling.
A guttural sound echoed out into the room, her body lurching forward in lethargy as she battled to settle her breathing. You carefully peeled away the sticky strands that obstructed her beauty, her lips painted in sanguine, swollen from the way she had buried her teeth into them so brutally.
“Have you learned your lesson, sweetheart?” You asked, curiously, a palpable sense of unrest gnawing at you as Emily raised her head, a sly smile of pearly white greeting you.
“Yes,” she winked, flopping into your embrace, her body aflame as it melded with yours. “And, I agree with you completely,” she clarified. “Bailey really needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut, right?"