Loved Intensely (UNEDITED)

Chapter 4

There was a look that could almost be construed as
hurt in James' eyes, Emma thought warily, as he
stood and stared at them for a moment longer.
She brushed the thought quickly away though,
surprised at herself for feeling even an inkling of
guilt, and watched waiting for the rage that she
knew simmered in the depths of his eyes, then bit
her lip, as he turned and strode abruptly away
once again.
She must not feel guilty, Emma told herself,
finding her way to a chair and sinking down heavily.
She did not belong to him, and it was not as if she
had asked Kit to kiss her. He'd been drunk, after
all. And besides, who was he to say who she could
kiss and who couldn't? She had the right to kiss
anyone she wanted!
"Emma," Luc's voice brought her back to the
present. He was holding her drink in his hand.
"Sorry I took so long. I just met Julianna..." he
grinned, and the look in his eyes was rueful. "You
understand why it took so long for me to extract
myself." Emma understood perfectly - Julianna
had, after all, been angling after Luc for what
must have been a decade. Ever since she'd turned
thirteen, in fact, but as far as Emma knew, Luc
had never felt anything for her but brotherly love.
With ten years between them, it wasn't that
surprising.
But both Kit and James are ten years older than
you, a small, niggling voice in the back of her mind
reminded her. And god knew, what she felt for
James was certainly not brotherly...
What she felt for James. With a stab of fear,
Emma thought back to all the times he'd touched
her, kissed her, coupled with her. He'd been her
first, though she hadn't known it, and after him,
there had been no others. She was no fool. She
knew that what she had experienced with him had
been unusual - she'd certainly never experienced
with anyone else. Not even Kit, she realised,
feeling something cold in her stomach, and she
believed she'd been in love with him. What if James
was the only one who could feel that way? She had
to know.
"Luc?" Emma said suddenly. "Would you kiss me,
please?"
Luc was silent for so long, that Emma believed she
must have utterly disgusted him and that she'd
ruined their friendship forever. She opened her
mouth to apologise, but Luc spoke before she could
do so.
"I would certainly oblige," he said carefully, "But
may I ask why the sudden request?"
"It - I just - I just need to reassure myself on
something, that's all. Please Luc, just this once. I
swear its nothing. And you really don't need to -"
Before she could finish however, Luc had grinned,
and was kissing her.
It was pleasant, comforting, but that was all it was.
She knew that Luc wasn't attracted to her, and
she wasn't to him, and that in essence made their
kiss one that was merely companionably pleasant -
his lips caressed hers, but nothing else. After a
moment, he broke away and raised his eyebrows.
"Your doubts have been quelled, I hope?" he asked,
amused.
"No," Emma said, rather deflated.
"Perhaps I should try again, then?"
Before Emma could answer however, a voice said
icily from the shadows, "I wouldn't, if I were you,
Luc. Not if you want to leave this place with your
manhood intact."
There was an utter silence from all sides. Finally,
Luc spoke, "Is there perhaps something you need to
tell me, Emma?"
"Yes, Emma," James agreed. "Do tell."
"There's nothing to tell," Emma said shakily.
"Nothing at all."
"Oh but there is," James said silkily, stepping into
the light and wrapping a possessive arm around
her, drawing her slowly, but steadily towards him,
into the curve of his body. "I think that there is."
Luc stood for a moment, frowning, then a small
smile curved his lips. "Is this what I think it is,
Em?"
"No!" Emma said fervently, fighting to extract
herself from James' grip. He simply tightened his
hold on her. "Its not what you think!"
"What I think," Luc said with a sly look in his eye,
"Is that you've been having a lover's spat, and I
just happened to be a handy escape route. Its all
right, Em - I don't mind in the least!"
"We have not been having a lovers spat! We're not
lovers!"
"Oh?" James retorted. "Then what do you call
this?" His mouth was against hers again, hard and
demanding, and cursing herself violently Emma
found herself once again responding to his lips, his
tongue, his teeth. She was gasping and breathless
when he let her go at last, raising an eyebrow at
Luc. "I hope that quells your doubts, Luc," he
murmured.
"Perfectly," Luc agreed cheerfully and sauntered
off, leaving Emma stranded once again, her last
hope of escape having quite happily deserted her.
"And now, my dear," James breathed, staring into
her eyes, a look of mingled anger and heat
simmering in his, "I shall deal with you."
With two quick steps he had her backed up against
the stone wall of the house, out of sight, unless
someone decided to walk straight out onto the
balcony and look around.
"What -" Her words were cut off with his mouth,
settling over hers, as he ravaged and plundered.
His hands moved to her bodice, and with a quick,
jerking motion, ripped it in half. The rest of it slid
to the ground, and quite suddenly she was left
standing in her bra and underwear, James' hard,
male body pressed up against her.
"You're mine, Emma," James breathed against her
mouth, unclipping her bra easily. "No matter what.
Nothing can change that." A quick rip, a tearing
sound and her underwear was gone, too.
"No," Emma said desperately, her hands fisting
against his chest. "No, please, James..."
To her surprise, he didn't ignore her, but took her
hands and laced her fingers with his. He moved
them against the wall and stared intently at her,
at the soft, vulnerable look in her eyes and the
way she trembled against him. "Why, Emma?" he
asked softly, and she could hear his voice shake
slightly. "Why did you kiss them?"
"I didn't," Emma said, half truthfully. "Kit kissed
me." There was a look of hope in his eyes.
"And Luc?"
"I asked him to kiss me."
He deflated. "Why?"
"Because Kit's kisses did nothing for me."
He stared at her blankly. She continued helplessly,
"I needed to see if it was like that for me with
everyone, or..."
James was suddenly looking at her with new
intensity. "Or what?"
"Or - or if -"
"Or if mine were the only kisses you craved, is
that right, Emma? Or if my touch was the only
one that turned you on? Or if my body was the
only one that could satisfy you?" She was silent,
her face flushed, turned away from him. "Well, is
it?"
When she didn't reply, he tilted her face and
brushed a kiss against her mouth. "Emma?"
"Yes," she said, frustrated and angry. "Yes, damn
you!"
"Oh, my love," James murmured, and kissed her.
His lips trailed down her throat, his tongue flicking
out to taste her and he shuddered in pleasure.
"Delicious," he groaned. She whimpered when his
mouth enveloped her nipples, his teeth grazing, his
tongue laving at her. He suckled at her and she
moaned, arching at him, and he sucked harder,
driven into a frenzy at her abandon. He was
marking her, and felt triumphant in the fact. He
would brand her any way he could, any way that
would proclaim that she was his, and his alone.
"Are you wet?" he queried, rubbing his body
sensuously against her. "I think you're dripping, my
dear. I think you're just about to come..."
"Oh god," she breathed, dazed.
He let her go for a moment to fumble with the zip
of his trousers, releasing the thick shaft that was
his manhood, lifted her in his arms against the wall
and suddenly he was inside her, impaling her with
his hard, throbbing length.
"James!" she shrieked with the sensation of having
him, full, deep, and embedded firmly inside her.
"No!" Her protest felt fake to even her own ears.
"Oh, yes," he growled, grabbing her hips and
shoving her down on him again. She moaned,
clutching at him. "No screaming this time," he
warned, moving her up and down on him. "You'll be
heard."
No screaming? Emma thought dazedly. Impossible.
He plunged inside her again and she clamped her
mouth around his neck, biting to keep the scream
inside. He moaned in pleasure, his fingers digging
into her as he thrust inside her again, deeper,
harder than before.
"You're mine," he declared, pulling her down on
him. "Mine, do you hear? You belong to me. Say
it."
"I -"
"Say it, Emma."
But she just shook her head helplessly and he
growled in frustration, forcing himself up inside
her, forcing her to take more of him, determined
to make her accept him with her body, if not with
her mind. She cried out, wrapping her legs around
him, aware that whilst she was vulnerable and
naked, he was almost fully clothed, powerful,
impervious to weakness. As if the thought set off
a trigger inside her, she spasmed around him,
clenching around him, clinging tightly to his neck,
sinking her teeth into him once again.
He shuddered, groaning and thrusting jerkily into
her one last time, and she felt the hot flood of his
seed filling her body as he stood immobile for a
moment, recovering from the aftermath. She clung
to him, breathing hard, feeling an incredible
sensation of being small, and weak and
helpless...and completely taken.
He'd taken her, Emma thought, when he finally
withdrew from her body and set her on the ground.
She fumbled for her bra, put in on, her mind
dazed and confused. He'd taken her, completely
and irrevocably, and somehow in the meantime, she
had - or at least her body had - accepted that.
She pulled the dress up, realising the futileness of
the act as she saw that it had been ripped down
the middle.
"Here," James said softly, shrugging out of his
evening jacket and wrapping it almost tenderly
around her. She felt her eyes stinging with tears.
She felt so lost, so confused - and it enraged her.
She hated feeling helpless. Her eyes fell on her
tormentor and clouded once again...who was this
man, this man she had always felt she knew and
yet had never really known?
"We'd better go inside," James said when she made
no move to leave, merely stood there with his
jacket buttoned up around her, the scrap of ripped
material that had once been her panties clutched in
her hand. "They'll miss us."
She stuffed the material into a pocket as he took
her arm, and, gently, ushered her inside.