Disclaimer - All recognisable characters belong to their original owners. I do not make a profit from writing this; I simply do it for my own amusement. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Date Night

What did you wear on a first date with someone, when it wasn't exactly your first date—and that person was also your Dom?

There were no resources for things like that, nothing to help Rose out. Her friends hadn't been all that useful, with their suggestions ranging from nipple pasties and a thong to a formal dress. It wasn't that they were terrible suggestions per se, just that she didn't feel comfortable in anything she put on.

Either the jeans were too tight, the dresses were too short, or her t-shirts hung weirdly—every woman knows this struggle. Eventually, she settled on a knee-length dress that had a floral pattern on the top half had a light blue skirt. She paired it with a thin brown belt, a white, knitted cardigan, and brown pixie boots. It was casual but classy.

When Emmett knocked on her door, ten minutes later, Rose had just finished applying some Chapstick to her lips. She spared a glance at herself in the mirror, making sure that her ponytail was still in place before she opened the door.

Fuck me, she almost blurted out.

Did they have to go to dinner? Couldn't Emmett just come in, lie her on the floor and fuck her until she was a quivering mess? He was wearing a black leather jacket, a white t-shirt, dark jeans that hugged his thick thighs like a second skin, and some black boots.

Was she drooling? Rose felt like she was drooling. She was positive that she'd just ruined her underwear in a matter of seconds, too. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together, desperate for some friction to ease the fire that Emmett had started within her.

"Hey," Emmett greeted, his eyes bright.

Rose knew she'd been caught staring by the way Emmett's dimples showed. But she wouldn't feel embarrassed about it. Bravely, Rose looked him in the eye. "Hey."

His intense stare sent a ripple of heat over her skin that pooled straight against her clit. Fuck.

"You look beautiful," Emmett told her, handing her a bouquet of beautiful pastel peonies.

"Oh, Emmett. I love these," she told him, smiling. Rose loved the way they smelled, how you could have them in your house for a few minutes, and their fragrance would linger for hours. Plus, unlike some flowers, they didn't just keel over and die; they tended to last. "Come in," she said, opening the door wider and letting him into her small apartment.

Once she'd arrived home from work, Rose had very quickly tidied up and made sure that she didn't make herself look like a slob. Dirty clothes had been placed into the hamper, dirty dishes were washed, and Rose had run the vacuum and duster round too. And that was saying something—she hated dusting. It was akin to orgasm denial—awful and possibly a future form of torture.

As Emmett passed her, his hard body pressed against hers in the small doorway, he dropped a delicate kiss to her lips and then winked at her.

It made Rose giggle with nervous excitement.

As he looked around her place, Rose quickly filled a vase with some water and put the flowers in, choosing to place them on her coffee table so when she got up every morning, she could see them.

Rose watched as Emmett picked up a photo she had on the shelf above her vintage radio. "Nice picture," he remarked, a smile on his perfect lips. It was of her, Rachel, Esme, Kate, and Bella. They were wearing party dresses, neon paint splattered over them, raucous laughter spread across their faces. They'd gone to a party, and it had been so much fun. That was a little over two years ago. It had been a fantastic night, and Edward—who had gone with them—had randomly snapped the photo. He'd called them over, they'd all turned to look, and then they were blinded by a flash. All her friends had the same photo in their homes.

"Thanks," she blushed. She didn't think she looked too great in that picture. Her mouth was open too wide, her eyes were wonky, and her hair was frizzy around her face. Clearly, Emmett saw something that she didn't.

After replacing the picture exactly where it had been, Emmett turned his attention back to Rose. She didn't miss the way that his eyes skimmed over her body, from her shoulders downwards, drinking her in. His tongue came out and licked his lips, the sight of the pink tip making her burn with want. She wanted his tongue on her. Wanted it between her legs—like he'd done when she was his house, driving her to the brink of madness, tasting whatever she was willing to give him.

"If you keep looking at me like that, we're not going to make it out of your apartment," Emmett warned her darkly, sending another wave of fresh lust rolling over her body. Her nipples stood to attention at the sensuality of his voice.

"I wouldn't mind," she countered. And she really wouldn't. Having him here, in her home, was doing extraordinary things to her body.

Explicit, dirty images of being thoroughly fucked on her furniture waltzed through her mind; Emmett bending her over the couch, pressing her face into the cushions to stifle her screams, and then fucking her against the wall, her legs wrapped around his deliciously taut backside. Then, he'd take them to her bedroom, and he'd eat her pussy and ass out, making her moan and arch as her fingers played with her nipples.

"Stop it," Emmett commanded, his voice low and deep.

"Stop what?" Rose asked, wanting to play.

In a few short strides of his long legs, Emmett was in front of her, towering above her, his eyes dark filled with want and desire. "Stop whatever dirty thoughts you're thinking. I have a plan for tonight, and I don't want it to be disrupted because of your needy cunt."

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Was that meant to be a telling-off? Was that his way of chastising her? Because if anything, it had the opposite effect—the complete opposite effect.

Her nipples were begging—pleading against the cotton of her bra. They wanted his mouth, tongue, fingers; anything against them, the friction of any kind. And her 'needy cunt'? Well, it certainly was needy.

Rose could feel her clit throbbing with want, the inner walls of her pussy clenching as they desperately tried to find something to latch onto—something to sate the need deep inside her. Her thighs rubbed together again. She couldn't help it.

Emmett swore, before his lips were on hers. They were hard, demanding, just like his body as it leaned against hers, pushing until they hit the hard, unyielding wall behind them. Rose was pinned, trapped between a rock and a hard place, the wall and Emmett. It was heaven on Earth. She could feel every one of the contours of his body, the chiseled lines of his pecs, and the hard muscles of his abdomen.

Emmett's big thigh slipped in between hers, pushing upwards until he was pressing against Rose's swollen nub. One hand snaked around her waist, clutching her to him as the other drew up her back, winding the long strands of her ponytail around his hand until he could tip her head back and angle her head to just how he wanted it. Just how he wanted her.

"You drive me fucking insane," Emmett hissed. "I'm so hard for you: All. The. Fucking. Time."

His words seeped over her, a layer of heat following in their wake. She knew that feeling of pent-up frustration, wanting and needing so ardently but not being able to have it. Her weekend with Emmett hadn't done anything to dampen it. If anything, it had sparked off more. A deeper urge, a deeper want that left her aching in her bones. He was right when he said there'd be fireworks. And now Rose was addicted. She wanted them all the time.

"The feeling is fucking mutual," Rose managed to breathe between his punishing kisses. Her voice was low, sultry, seductive, begging for more.

Emmett's tongue delved into her mouth, tasting what she offered him. It stroked over hers, fanning the heat flaring throughout her body. It was torture, in the best way possible.

Removing his hand from her hair, Emmett slipped his fingers around her jaw, tenderly cupping it as he gently ended the kiss, turning it softer and softer until he was nipping at her swollen lips.

"Fuck," he muttered, finally opening his eyes and letting Rose see his beautiful irises.

"Fuck is right," she marked, her hands around his waist, clutching at his leather jacket. She wanted to be fuck on it, feel it under her hands as Emmett pounded into her from behind, his fingers wrapped around her hair, pulling on it.

Emmett ran the tip of his nose over her face—across her cheek and jaw. "You have this way of testing my self-control." His voice was gruff with desire and lust, his eyes reflecting just how badly he wanted her. The erection pressing against her thigh also gave Rose a pretty good indication of just how much she was testing him.

Power surged through her. She fucking loved that she drove him wild with want. She loved that she—little old Rose, the fragile flower—could make a man like Emmett, full of power and dominance, lose control. It was an aphrodisiac, sending her higher and closer to where she wanted to be. To the orgasm, she craved.

Before she could trail her hands down to his ass, pull him close, and dry hump his thigh, Emmett stepped back, her body instantly feeling cold. She missed him. He was only a foot away, still with her, but she craved his heat and his weight, pushing into her, controlling her.

"Come on," Emmett said, breathing deeply, his eyes still clouded with want. "I'm fucking starving."

Licking her lips, Rose took some calming breaths, willing her body to cool down. She was so hot and fucking ready. Emmett would be able to slide his cock straight into her. They'd be no resistance, no nothing. Her pussy would suck him in and never let go. She raised her eyes to look at Emmett. "I'm fucking starving too."

*RS*

Emmett helped Rose out of the car as they parked in the parking lot of The Golden Onion. It was a bar that did the best greasy food in town. Rose had been once before with Rachel, and the food had been amazing. She'd not been back since, so she was thrilled to see that Emmett had brought her here.

Slipping his warm hand into hers, Emmett twined their fingers together as he guided Rose up to the entrance. "Did I make a good choice?" Emmett asked, dipping his head down, his breath lightly caressing her ear.

"The best," Rose told him, a smile on her face. She squeezed his fingers in hers just to reaffirm what she was saying.

The cheerful smile that crossed over Emmett's face made Rose's heartbeat that much faster.

They were seated quickly, and a waitress came out quickly to take their order. They both ordered hotdogs loaded with onions and cheese, a large portion of fries to share between them, and two bottles of water.

The atmosphere in the bar was light, people laughing and then shouting as they watched whatever game was on the large television. Still, Rose was more than happy to chat with Emmett.

"How was work?" she asked, taking a massive bite, blushing slightly as the corner of her mouths became smeared in ketchup and onions.

"Good. We're almost back on track for this week." Emmett reached across and swiped at the corners of her mouth with his thumbs. "It'll be a long day tomorrow, but hopefully, we can push through."

Rose smiled. "Don't work too hard."

Emmett swallowed the bite he had taken and then fixed Rose with a single look. "I won't. I know I need to be in peak physical condition for Friday."

A dark heat flourished across her cheeks, spreading down to her chest. Emmett tracked it with his eyes.

"What do you have planned for Friday?" Rose asked, not caring that they were in a bar or that anyone might hear what depraved things Emmett wanted to do to her. She was desperate to listen to them, to fantasize about them.

"Well," Emmett began, holding his hand out on the table, palm upwards—an invitation for Rose.

She took it, goosebumps dancing across her skin. It was such a simple form of contact but felt so intimate. The world narrowed until it was just the two of them. The sounds of the bar disappeared, the blaring television, the roar of the crowd, the sizzle of the pans in the kitchen. Every single patron around them became invisible, and Rose was only concerned with Emmett.

"I was thinking that you could come over, we could have a light dinner," his eyes bore into hers, "and then we could go into my playroom." His fingers caressed over her palm, tingles of electricity firing up her wrist, making her pulse jump. "I think I want to bind your hands with rope and tie them above your head. Then, I want to use one of my toys on you." Moisture flooded from Rose's pussy, and she found herself shifting in her seat. A quiet whimper left her mouth as she arched her back slightly, her bra sensually caressing her tight nipples.

"And then, if you're still okay, I want to blindfold you." He looked at her carefully, anticipating her response.

The desire she was feeling was overshadowed by the panic that plunged into her stomach. She didn't do well with being blindfolded. She didn't like the darkness, didn't like not knowing what was coming.

Emmett knew something was wrong; his eyes changed immediately, the sexual air of the night disappearing almost as quickly as it had come on. His fingers gently slid up to her wrist, and he caressed it.

"Hey." His voice was quiet and reassuring, like a comforting caress over her skin. "We won't do anything that you don't want to do, Rosie. This is about you."

Rose nodded, breathing deeply, trying to stave off the panic attack that she felt coming. She hadn't had one in so long and certainly didn't plan on having one now. She'd come so fucking far.

Looking down at the table, Rose gave herself a few seconds to calm down, find herself, and sort her thoughts out. When she looked back up at Emmett, his eyes weren't filled with disappointment but understanding.

"I want to try," she told him, pausing to take another cleansing breath. "I want to try," she said again, her voice stronger, and a smile gracing her lips. It's Emmett, she reminded herself.

Emmett brought Rose's hand up to his mouth, turning it around so he could kiss her knuckles. "You're in control, Rosie. It's all about you. It always is…"

The shy smile that covered her face was quickly replaced by Emmett's mouth as he kissed her, his entire body leaning across the table, so he could capture her mouth with his.

Rose fell into that kiss, loving that when Emmett pulled back, he returned to place another kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Come on," he said. "Eat up; we've got a movie to see."

*RS*

Emmett had picked a good movie. It was an action-comedy about some old school gangsters who came out of retirement to help a childhood friend. Rose was enjoying herself, gently taking popcorn from the tub that Emmett had and sipping on her ice-cold raspberry slushie.

Halfway through the movie, Emmett placed his fingers on her bare knee. Rose smiled at him and tried to calm her racing heart. Slowly, with the speed of an arthritic tortoise, Emmett dragged his finger up the inside of her thigh and then back down.

Rose's breath hitched, and she sunk a little further down in her seat, trying to make Emmett's fingers get closer to where she wanted him. Just a single touch and she was wet, soaking through her underwear, as mentally she begged him to touch her, to press her clit hard and rub it. Maybe even slip his fingers inside her, curl them upwards. She'd have to stay quiet, make sure that the other few patrons in the movie theatre didn't see her, didn't hear what he was doing to her.

It would be their little secret, their dirty little secret. That thought made her all the wetter.

Leaning over, Emmett placed his lips against her ear. "Color?"

She didn't need to think twice about it. "Green, Sir."

"Shall I continue?"

She fucking loved that everything was her choice, that he was so considerate and aware of her and her feelings.

"Yes, please, Sir." Rose hoped her good manners would mean she'd get rewarded. That he'd fuck her harder, curled his fingers inside her cunt, let her come all over him.

In the dark movie theatre, Rose couldn't see Emmett, but she could feel his grin against her ear seconds before his thick fingers pressed against her clit most deliciously.

Biting her lip, Rose tried to stifle the moan that threatened to come out. It felt so fucking good to have him touching her—playing her —making her desperate for more.

A fire sparked through her veins as her head fell back against the seat, and she gripped both armrests with her hands—popcorn, slushie, and movie long forgotten.

Emmett's fingers were insistent, pressing hard against her clit then circling it lightly, flashes of desire curling through her body, heating every cell until she was a burning hot ball of need. A small whimper left her throat as Emmett's fingers left her clit, the sound turning in a deep moan when seconds later they delved into her underwear and teased her at her entrance.

"Oh, God," Rose moaned, a bit too loudly, causing her to still, open her eyes, and check that no one had heard them.

"Relax," Emmett whispered. "No one heard you. No one cares that I'm knuckle deep inside your sweet cunt." As he said those words, Emmett did precisely as he said and slid two fingers inside her, right up until the knuckles.

Rose's head fell back against the seat, and her eyes rolled in her head.

"Fuck," she whimpered, her hips undulating to their rhythm, need racing through her veins like the best kind of high.

"That's it," Emmett grunted, desire dripping from his voice. "Fuck yourself on my fingers."

Rose shifted her hips, moving them in a circular motion as she slid the tiniest bit more down the seat, Emmett's fingers slipping deeper inside of her. When he curled them, he hit that spot—the spot that had Rose seeing stars.

Biting her lip, Rose frantically tried to stifle the moans bubbling up inside her. She didn't want to draw any attention to what they were doing—but it felt so fucking good.

Her pussy was throbbing under his ministrations, and her clit ached. The bra she was wearing did little to provide any friction against her nipples, and she was suddenly craving the feel of his tongue across her skin.

"Kiss me, Sir. Please," she begged, sucking in a deep breath.

Thankfully, Emmett didn't torture her. Instead, he pressed a deep kiss to her lips, his tongue instantly plundering into her mouth, mimicking the pace that Rose had set with her hips.

It was too much, entirely too much; his tongue, his fingers, how quiet she had to be. Rose couldn't stand it anymore. "Please—please, may I… I… come?" Brokenly, the words left her mouth. She was on the edge, hanging on by a thin piece of thread that was threatening to snap at any minute.

Emmett nodded against her lips before he bit down on her bottom one, stifling the cry of pleasure that washed over her as she gushed on his fingers.

"Fuck yes," Emmett grunted, his fingers twisting and curling, gathering up everything she offered until her underwear was beyond ruined and Rose was left in a heap in the chair.

When he pulled his fingers from her, Rose opened her eyes and watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them in, his tongue swirling around his digits in a sinfully sexual motion.

"That was fucking beautiful," Emmett told her.

Rose simply buried her face into his shoulder, a satisfied feeling rushing through her.

*RS*

After the movie, Emmett dropped Rose back home.

"Do you want to come in?" Rose asked, biting her lip and doing her best to look seductive. She wanted more of Emmett. More of his body against hers, more of his sensual lips on her body, more of his cock.

"If I come in, I won't leave until you're covered in my cum." Why was he saying that like it? Like it was a bad thing? Like she didn't want that? "And that's not how I want to end this evening," Emmett finished saying. "Plus, Hera and Bruce need letting out."

"Okay," Rose said, a little disappointed. "But next time, if you want to bring them so you could spend the night, I wouldn't mind."

Emmett gave her a toothy grin. "That's good to know."

They both shared a smile before Emmett lifted a hand and caressed Rose's cheek. "I had a nice evening with you, Rosie."

"Me too," Rose confessed. It had easily been the best date she had ever been on.

Emmett's other hand came up and cupped her cheek, instantly spreading warmth through her body. Slowly, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

Rose lifted her hands and slipped them under his jacket, clutching at his t-shirt, pulling him closer, silently demanding more.

Groaning against her mouth, Emmett pushed Rose against the door, his body pressing up against hers, letting her feel each wonderful inch of him.

Suddenly, he pulled back. "Fuck. There I go, losing control again."

"I don't mind," Rose whispered, smiling, placing a delicate kiss on his jaw.

Emmett chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest.

He pulled her lips back to his, this time covering them with a short, gentle kiss before he pulled away and stepped out of her grip. "Goodnight, Rosie."

"Goodnight, Emmett. Will you let me know when you get home?"

"Of course." Emmett's eyes roved over her body from her head to her toes, tingles following in his wake. Returning his eyes to hers, Emmett gave her a wink and then turned down the hallway.

Rose eyed up his ass for a few seconds and then unlocked her apartment door and went inside. No sooner had she shut the door behind her, and there was an insistent knocking on it. Opening the door, Rose was surprised to see Emmett stood there, his hands holding on to the strong door frame.

There was no time for her to get any words out, to ask what he was doing when his hands grabbed her around the waist and hauled her towards him. Emmett's lips were hard and demanding against hers as he kissed her, quite literally bending her to his will with the force of his body.

Rose accepted it. She basked in it. Adoring the way that his hands ran down to her ass, grabbing both cheeks and squeezing as hard as he could.

Then, just like before, Emmett pulled back. "Alright, that should do it."

The giggle that escaped Rose couldn't be helped. She watched as he adjusted himself and nodded at her. "I promise, it really is goodnight this time."

"Goodnight, Emmett," she told him again. "Drive safely."

"I will—I've got to make it to Friday."

At the mention of their upcoming weekend together and the possibility of scening with Emmett—her first real scene in over two years, fissures of heat and nervousness skimming over her skin.

"Damn right you have," Rose boldly told Emmett, making him chuckle.

"I'll let you know when I get home," he said, almost as if he didn't want to leave.

"Good. Night, Emmett." With a strength she didn't know she possessed, Rose stepped back into her apartment and shut the door. Turning around, she leaned back against it, blowing out a breath of air as a large smile covered her face.

She felt on top of the fucking world.

How was it? Did you like it? Was their first date a success?

As usual, Pearly has my undying gratitude for putting up with me!