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PROMPT: End of Summer
12 weeks. Seems like forever, doesn't it? 12 weeks, 3 months, a quarter of a year. I never thought it would pass this quickly. When I first came to California, it was to get away, escape the dreary life that was awaiting me in Forks. Escape the nightmare that was my future. I'd agreed to it with my parents.
But I never thought I'd fall in love. I never thought that a single person could consume me so wholly that they became the only thing I thought about, cared about. I met Emmett McCarty on my first day here. He worked in the random bar I walked into, and our eyes met. Cheesy, I know. But fuck me. Electricity surged through my body. His blue eyes roamed over my figure, from my hair pulled back tightly into a bun to my perky breasts, down to my flared hips and long legs. I was burning. He was handsome, gorgeous, beautiful. He had dark blonde hair piled on top of his head in a man bun that should not look that attractive on anyone. Dark black ink trekked across his tanned skin. The only piece of him free from ink was his face. His magnificent face with a light moustache and beard, the same colour as his hair, accentuating his pouty lips, straight nose and high cheekbones. Muscles rippled and shifted under his skin, his strength evident even from across the bar. It wasn't love at first sight, but it was most definitely lust.
By the end of my first week in California, I'd been fucked on every surface in that bar, from the tables, to the wall, to the bar itself. I'd come more times than I could count and been bent into positions that had sent me dizzy with pleasure. The second week, I'd let him into my ass. Something I'd only ever fucked myself before Emmett came along. After four weeks, I'd abandoned the hotel I was in and was practically living in his house; my clothes were in his drawers and my tampons in his bathroom. After eight weeks, we were almost inseparable. I got a part-time job walking dogs, and I fucking loved it - walking along the beach, the cold surf kissing my toes, dogs running free in front of me. It was everything.
I found myself loving the simple life. Loving the open nature of Emmett's small home on the beachfront. I could always see him. I loved being close to him, having to climb over him to get into bed, squeeze past him in the kitchen, sit on him in the living room. Since coming here, my hair had lightened under the suns rays, and I stopped styling my hair within an inch of its life, my natural ringlets curling around my shoulders. Emmett loved to weave his hands through them when we were watching the waves, sleeping or fucking. He'd hold me tight, pull my head back as he fucked me from behind, his lips finding my neck as he bent me into whatever position he wanted.
I'd never been fucked so thoroughly, so utterly and wonderfully spent, sweat covering every inch of me as his cum dripped out of me.
But, no more. It had been 12 weeks exactly. My time here was done. I'd made an agreement with my parents and, as much as I wanted to walk away, tell them to fuck themselves and everything they stood for. I couldn't do that to my little brother's. They needed me to go back home.
I wanted to make another memory, though. Just one more. Just one more time of feeling Emmett fucking me. To get me through the next fifty years of my life.
We were laid in bed, the fan overhead whirring quietly in the background as a breeze from the ocean blew in through the open doors. We'd need it.
I pulled the covers of Emmett's body. Not that they were hiding much. His cock was large and thick, straining upwards like a galvanised pole.
Leaning down, I took him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around his rigid length, loving the way that he tasted - salty and masculine. I laved my tongue over the tip and down the underside of his cock, tracing the large vein that pulsed and jumped under my touch. I held his cock up with one hand and sucked his left ball into my mouth, the warmth making me wet. I loved feeling them pound against my pussy, the delicious slapping noise helping to push me closer and closer to the edge.
When I took his right ball into my mouth, I felt his hand grasp my hair, his large fingers winding into the strands as he pushed me closer, my ability to breathe being restricted. It made me wetter, had me rubbing my cunt into the bed, desperate for friction, desperate to try and soothe the throbbing in my clit.
"What a way to wake up, Rosie," Emmett groaned, his voice filled with sleep and lust, thighs tensing as he shifted.
Rosie. Only Emmett got away with calling me that. I loved hearing it fall from his mouth, loved hearing him shout it, scream it, bellow it as he jizzed inside me, warmth seeping through me.
"I wanted to thank you for last night," I mumbled against him, giving his balls a long, languid lick before I focused my attention on the swollen, purple head of his cock. Emmett had eaten me out until I'd come all over his chest, squirting so hard that my vision had blurred, my toes had tingled, and I was sure that my heart had stopped for a second.
"Ugh, fuck. I'll do that every night if you'd let me," Emmett sighed.
It sent an ache through me. I'd let him. I wanted him to do that. But it was impossible. We were impossible.
Breathing through my nose and relaxing my throat, I sucked Emmett all the way down, gagging slightly as he hit my gag reflex.
"Shit!" Emmett cursed when my throat squeezed around him.
My eyes watered, and saliva pooled in my mouth. With a gasp, I pulled back, a string of spit the only thing connecting us.
Emmett took one look at me, his blue eyes darkening as his chest heaved, and he pulled me upwards. "Fuck. Come and sit on my cock, Rosie."
He didn't need to tell me twice.
In seconds, I had impaled my sopping cunt on him, slamming myself all the way down, enjoying the burn that soared through me.
"Fuck," Emmett moaned. "So good."
I knew what he meant. It was always good. Always. More than good. Amazing. Wonderous. Fucking. Mind. Blowing.
Emmett and his cock filled me in the best way. I was stretched and so fucking full. My inner walls were screaming as the head of his cock brushed me, teasing me, an unspoken promise. I always came with Emmett. Always.
"Fuck me, Em," I begged. "Fuck me hard, please." I wanted to wear his bruises on my hips and inner thighs. A reminder, a physical reminder that this happened. That for 12 weeks, I was impossibly happy. That for 12 weeks, I felt like me for the first time in twenty-seven years.
A wicked grin crossed his perfect lips as his hands harshly gripped my hips, and he began to pound upwards into me, fucking me, using me, claiming me.
"Oh, God." My lungs began to burn as I forgot to breathe, too overwhelmed, too lost in the moment to focus on anything that wasn't Emmett. "Don't stop." I was building quickly. My clit felt swollen, blood racing through my veins as I struggled to keep my eyes open. The cool breeze sensually caressed my overheated skin, my nipples pebbling until they were tight peaks.
I wanted to sear this memory into my brain. Keep Emmett in my thoughts. His hair was wild around the pillow, a tangled mess from my hands in it last night. Sweat was beading on his magnificent chest, nipple piercings bouncing with his ragged breaths. His eyes were heavy with want, muscles in his arms tense as he jackhammered himself up into me.
Oh, God. I was so fucking wet, fucking desperate, and so fucking close.
Sitting up, Emmett slid deeper inside me as he leaned forward and captured my left breast in his mouth, biting down.
I lost it. My eyes rolled back into my head, my entire body tensed and then quivered as a scream was ripped from my mouth. My cunt wept with pleasure, soaking Emmett, running down his balls, coating him in me as he came inside me, a strong sense of ownership coursing through me.
Flopping back on the bed, Emmett took me with him, his fingertips running up and down my spine tenderly. It was such a contrast to the vibe he gave off, dark and dangerous. He was neither. I always felt safe with him. I always felt cherished. I always felt loved.
Tears sprung to my eyes, and I rapidly blinked them back. No. I wouldn't cry. Not now. I was so fucking grateful that Emmett made these 12 weeks the best of my life. 12 weeks of pure happiness. 12 weeks of bliss.
I sat up and traced my fingers over Emmett's face, trying to commit it to memory. From his eyebrows, to his cheeks, to his cupid's bow.
Slowly, Emmett's eyes closed, and his breathing evened out.
When I was sure that he was asleep, small adorable snores leaving his mouth, I gently stood from Emmett, taking a minute to enjoy the way his cock and balls glistened with the remnants of us.
Silently, I padded around the apartment, picking up my things and placing them in the suitcase I had brought with me. When I saw one of his t-shirts, a simple black cotton one, it took all of my strength not to take it. It would be a reminder of him, and that would hurt too much. My memories would have to do.
Much too quickly, I was ready. My heart broke.
Taking a risk, I knelt next to the bed.
"Thank you so much, Em. These last 12 weeks have been amazing… I wouldn't change them for the world. But you need to know the truth. I came here to escape." I took a shaky breath. "I made a promise to my parents, and I have to fulfil it. Not for them but for my brothers. I told you about them; Quinn and James? They'd love you." My treacherous eyes began watering. "I'm only going back for them. I'm only doing this for them. I want to stay so badly. But I can't." I bit my lip, the pain stopping me from sobbing. "I lied to you when I said I was here because I wanted to travel. It's partly true. I want to go to Australia, New Zealand, London, Bali, China. I do want to travel the world. But I came here because I wanted to forget for a second about the shit show my life was about to become." A tear fell down my cheek. "I'm engaged, Em. Not by choice. He's a dick. We're getting married in three days. I'll be Mrs Rosalie King. It's not the life I want, but it's the life I've got to lead." My fingers itched to reach out and tangle themselves in his hair, run over his skin, feel his warmth. I curled them into my palm, the bite of my nails reminding me that I had no choice. "I want you to live your best life, Emmett. Be the most amazing person you can be. Have fun, laugh, and fall in love. Because you are going to make someone so incredibly happy." I had one final thing to say to him, one final thing to admit. Something I hadn't said out loud to anyone. "I love you, Emmett."
As my heart broke, I stood and grabbed my suitcase, carrying it to the door to ensure that the noise of the wheels wouldn't wake him.
I whispered my final words to him, wishing this wasn't happening, that it was a dream, that any moment now, I would wake up in Emmett's arms, warm and sleepy. "Thank you."
Thanks for reading. I am planning a part 2.