My Cheating Mate (Emma and Jeremy) novel Chapter 82

Chapter 82

My Cheating Mate

Emma pov

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I drifted awake slowly, consciousness returning in gentle waves. The first thing I noticed was warmth Safety. The gentle, rhythmic motion of fingers moving through my hair.

Jeremy.

I kept my eyes closed for a moment longer, savoring the feeling. His hand in my halk. His solid presence beneath me. The steady rise and fall of his breathing

When I finally opened my eyes, I found him watching me. Not in a creepy way his expression was soft, almost reverent. Like i was something precious he was afraid might disappear.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Sleep well?”

“Really well, actually.” I stretched, feeling muscles relax that had been tense for months. “How long was I out?”

“About two hours.” His hand stilled in my hair. “Should I have woken you sooner? I wasn’t sure—”

“No. This was perfect.” I sat up slowly, processing the feelings moving through me. The pull toward him. The desire–not just physical, though that was definitely there–to be close. To drop the walls I’d been maintaining for months.

Last night’s attack had clarified something for me. Life was fragile. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. And I was tired of denying what I wanted out of fear or anger or stubborn pride.

I wanted Jeremy. Still. Despite everything.

So I made a choice.

I shifted my position, moving from lying across his lap to straddling him. His eyes widened with surprise and something else- heat, desire, but tempered with uncertainty.

“Emma?” His hands hovered near my hips, not quite touching. “What are you-”

“Is this okay?” I asked, settling my weight on his lap. The position was intimate, intentional. No mistaking what I was suggesting.

“That depends.” His voice was rough. “What does this mean? What do you want?”

punishing

“I want you.” The admission came easier than I expected. “I want to feel close to you. Want to stop punishing us both by pretending I don’t still desire you.”

“Emma, we don’t have to–I don’t want you to feel pressured-

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I silenced him with a kiss. Deeper than the one in the kitchen. More demanding. My hands moving to his shoulders, then up to tangle in his hair.

He groaned against my mouth, his hands finally–finally–settling on my hips. Gripping but not pulling, letting me control the pace, the depth, the direction.

“Tell me to stop,” I whispered against his lips. “If you’re not ready. If this is too much.”

有

“Too much?” He laughed, breathless. “Emma, I’ve been dreaming about touching you for months. Wanting you. Missing you. But-” He pulled back slightly. “I need to know you’re sure. That this isn’t just adrenaline from last night. Or fear. Or

“It’s not.” I met his eyes. “Jeremy, I’m not saying everything’s fixed. Not saying I’ve forgotten or forgiven everything. But I’m saying I want this. Want you. Right now. Is that enough?”

enter

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More than enough “His hands tightened on my hips. “But Emma, I need you to know if we do this, I’m not going to be thinking about anyone else. Not comparing you. Not wishing you were someone else. Just you. Only you.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the obvious need to reassure me, made my chest ache, “I believe you”

“Do you? Really?”

“Yes.” I kissed him again, softer this time. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.“.

That seemed to break whatever restraint he’d been holding onto. His mouth found mine with sudden urgency, his hands moving from my hips to my back, pulling me closer. I could feel his arousal beneath me, proof that he wanted this as much as 1 did.

I ground down slightly, experimentally. He made a choked sound against my lips.

“Emma–fuck–we should probably slow down—”

“Why?” I was already tugging at his shirt, needing to feel skin. “We’re adults. We’re alone. We want each other. Why wait?”

“Because-” He pulled back, his breathing ragged. “Because I want to do this right. Want to make sure you feel cherished, not rushed. Want this to mean something.”

“It does mean something.” I managed to get his shirt off, my hands exploring the planes of his chest. Mapping changes–new scars from recent fights, the weight he’d lost and was slowly regaining. “It means I’m choosing you. Choosing us. Choosing to stop living in the past and actually feel something in the present.”

“God, Emma.” His hands moved under my shirt, tentative, asking permission. “You’re incredible. So brave. So-”

“Stop talking,” I said, pulling my own shirt over my head. “And touch me. Really touch me.”

He did. His hands moving over my skin like he was memorizing every inch. Reverent. Careful. Like I might shatter if he pressed too hard.

“I won’t break,” I whispered. “Jeremy, I need–I need more.”

“Tell me what you need.” His mouth moved to my neck, placing soft kisses along my throat. “Tell me how to make this good for you.”

“Just-“I struggled to articulate through the haze of desire. “Just be present. Be with me. Don’t hold back because you’re afraid of hurting me.”

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