Chapter 367: Taste of the Forbidden (R-18)

Emma’s POV

The flames surged again—not warmth, but fire roaring from somewhere deep beneathmystomach. Heat coiled like molten metal, thick and aching, demanding the oblivionhe’donly hinted at before. Now it screamed.Hiswaistband was tight under my grip, my knuckles white.

This was really happening. Years of hidden glances, midnight fantasies—a lifetime of wanting Peter—and now his hands were on my hips, his breath warm against my skin. It felt unreal, like stepping into a dream I’d been too afraid to ever fully imagine.

But then—abruptly—he stopped. He dropped to his knees.

The thud was heavy, metallic against the carpet, startling in the sudden silence. A small cry escapedmythroat—surprise? Disbelief? That this man, thisPeter, was kneeling beforeme? Everything just... stopped.

Hiseyes. Even in the dimness, they burned, glowing fiercely amber-yellow. Not just light...hunger. Ancient, devouring. And that look... it wasn’t the gentle admiration I’d pictured. It was possession. Raw. Primal. As if after all this time, he’d finally decided to claim what was his. It stole my breath.Mypossession.

Hisgaze locked betweenmythighs, the intensity visceral. My own lips parted unconsciously, my vision stunned—fixed onhim. He was really looking. The sheer intimacy of it, the way his eyes devoured a part of me no one had ever seen, sent a jolt of pure electric terror through me.

I froze. Instinct took over—myhands flew forward, trying to cover myself. Shame sliced through the raw hungerhecould feel radiating fromme, just for a half-second.

This was too new. Too exposed. The innocence I’d guarded so fiercely felt suddenly flayed open.

Beforemyfingers could even obscurehisview,heshookhishead. It was almost imperceptible, but it radiated pure command. One sharp gesture:Stop. Do not.Hisvoice cut through the stillness, dark velvet layered over something heavier, like silk hiding a blade.

"Move them, sweetness?"heasked, conversationally laced with velvet darkness. That low tone, a voice I’d heard tease and command a thousand times, now wrapped around an order that shook me to my core.

I hesitated, trapped between mortification and an arousal that screamed forhimto see, to possess whatI’dnever willingly shown to anyone... untilmyhands fell nervelessly away. Surrendering felt like stepping off a cliff into terrifying, exhilarating air.

Then, sensation ignitedfor me. Like nothing I’d ever imagined. Like a live wire scorching over oversensitive skin.Histouch slid downmyinner thigh tomyknee, partingmewith absolute dominance.

Hishands gripped possessively, spreading—finally, uncooperingly—mylegs apart beneathhiscommand, like a sculptor molding flesh tohiswill.The sheer strength in those hands, the casual way he positioned my body exactly as he wanted it, was overwhelming.

He was sosure, and I was completely lost.

That exposure... complete vulnerability. Utterly terrifying. I felt utterly naked, not just physically, but soul-deep. Every secret yearning, every stolen look, laid bare before him. Yet, it was thrilling beyond all limits.

A single, wet bead traced slowly downward frommyglistening entrance. I could feel it and his eyes on it.

Hishungry eyes worshiped it, staring as if it were an altar offering meant to be devoured.

The reverence in his gaze was almost as potent as the touch itself. Then... just a slow lick, right there, along the delicate folds. Contact. Heat. Wetness. My entire world narrowed to that one point of impossible sensation. My back arched violently, a gasp tearing frommeasmywhole spine jolted upright. It felt like lightningstrikingwater.

I jammedmyown fingers againstmymouth, muffling the cry,myeyes squeezing shut, terrified someone would hear, would discover this stolen, unbelievable night.

Then: another wet lap. Slow, shockingly possessive,hisflat tongue dragging straight up the seam to the tight bundle beneath its hood. Once around it... deliberately... twice... Every movement was a revelation. A language my body understood instantly, but my mind reeled to comprehend.

More intense than any dream of him I have had for years, more real than any touch I’d ever given myself.

Fireexplodedwithinme. Liquid wildfire floodedmypelvis, an unexpected force that mademytoes curl tight against the bed.

This was...thiswas the peak? This fire, this unstoppable wave?

It was terrifying in its power, unlike anything I’d ever felt. A whimper caught painfully behindmybitten knuckles; silent tears streamed downmyface. Tears of pure, overwhelming sensation. Of disbelief that this was finally happening, and that it wasPeterundoing me so completely.

"Easy for me to taste now? I’ll show you heaven’s threshold itself, big sister..." The words, that forbidden name—big sister—sent another terrifying thrill throughme.

The name, once familiar teasing, now twisted into something dark, forbidden, and sinfully exciting. We weren’t that anymore,Iscreamed silently inside. That illicit height added a deeper wave that crashed relentlessly, nearly blindingme. The taboo was gasoline on the fire.

"Quiet, sweetness..."Hisvoice vibrated overmyexposed flesh, sending aftershocks through the oversensitive bundleheteased. Now,headded rhythmic flicks—fast, unrelenting, directly on the epicenter.

It was too much. Too intense. Toonew. My body didn’t know how to process this concentrated pleasure.Myvision narrowed, focused inward on the crushing liquid release building unstoppable.

I trembled, muscles locking in violent anticipation.

Hemoved like the masterhewas, sensing every tremor. He knew my body better than I did.Healternated between relentless attack and retreating gently, tracing around the entrance, feeling that near-breaking point just beyond.

Myhips moved without command, grinding upward, craving more,please NOW, while ragged hitches escapedmybreath. My body was acting on pure instinct, driven by a force I couldn’t name, chasing an oblivion only he seemed able to grant.

Mymind shattered.Oh GOD Peter YES, more more—Then terror jolted throughme—panic. Doors. A sound in the hallway. The hallway light turning on. Then darkness again. Silence. The intrusion of the outside world was a brutal splash of cold water. It was too close. A fraction off safety.

The risk magnified everything. The fear of discovery warred with the terror ofstopping, of being left hanging on this unbearable edgePeterhad built.

Even asmyhands flew frommymouth, desperate to grasp the headboard,hislarge, deliberate hand smotheredmygasps into oblivion.

Hismouth and hand coveredme,hisonslaught redoubling—fiercer now, demanding—knowingIcould barely keep silent whilehedrank, knowingmybreaking point was coming whether anyone stood there or not.

Myfingers flexed tight around the headboard, white-knuckled, fighting the need to screamhisname.Hetook the swollen pearl between skilled lips, finding a possessive rhythm, sucking, claimingme.

The suction, the deliberate rhythm, felt like he was drawing out my very soul. Wet slick heat poured fromme, shameless evidence intohisconsuming kiss. The world shrank formeto that single point of sensation. My awareness dissolved. There was only the fire, the pressure, the terrifying intensity building deep inside.

Mybody locked rigid, vibrating on the unbearable verge... snapping... but it didn’t.Yet.

Hesensed it, relented, easing back to the razor’s edge.HeknewI’dendured too long.Hewould rewardmywaiting soon;hefelt the pulsion inmytense muscles. But the door outside creaked again.

Hold...mymind whispered, praying.Please... don’t. Don’t stop.Panic clawed at me.Please, Peter, don’t stop now!I need this. I needyou.Peterheard it inmylocked limbs, in the desperate thrum ofmypulse againsthiseager tongue—mysilent prayer written in body language:Don’t. Fucking. Stop.

Andherewardedmycourage under fire, for the forbidden flames rising within: pressure renewed, harder, deeper, until... I exploded in a silent scream muffled againsthisskin and muscle.

The world fractured. Shattered. Pure, liquid fire consumed me from the inside out, a release so powerful it felt like annihilation and rebirth in the same breath.Heswallowed every pulseIoffered, silently, until the release stopped, onlymythighs shaking softly beneathhim.

Helooked up atmybeautiful, undone face. Hunger. Sated. I lay utterly spent, boneless, my mind reeling.Thatwas what I’d been missing? Whathecould do? It was unbelievable.

Evident glory. Worship paid. Virgin sacrifice wasn’t just accepted; it was devoured, cherished. Pleasured. Completely, utterly wrecked in the best possible way. Now owned. I felt the truth of it deep in my bones.Hishunger? Barely begun its feast upon this forbidden fruit.