My Taboo Harem! - Chapter 559 - 559: Emily's Love
Phei could say—without a single shred of exaggeration—that Emily had become his partner in crime.
She nailed the assistant role like she’d been born wearing a headset and carrying a color-coded planner and was just waiting for him to bring it all out.
Now schedules ran like Swiss clockwork. Logistics materialized out of thin air before he even knew they were needed. Problems evaporated before they could form because Emily had already spotted them three steps ahead, built the workaround in her head, executed it silently, and moved on to the next five crises while everyone else was still blinking.
The girl operated like a machine with a heartbeat—relentless, precise, and powered by a devotion that had lapped “professional” twice and kept sprinting.
Unfortunately, this hyper-efficient girl was still hiding how broken she really was.
She threw herself into being his shadow the way someone drowning throws themselves at a lifeboat—gripping so hard her knuckles bleached white, making the work her entire identity because the alternative was sitting still long enough for the memories of what had happened to her at the club to catch up and sink their teeth in.
Phei saw it all. The faraway glaze that sometimes took her eyes between tasks, tiny flinch at sudden noises and the absent way she occasionally touched the side of her face where the bruises had long faded on the surface but still throbbed underneath.
He’d tried to talk about that night once. Gently. The way you’d approach a wound you needed to clean but knew would sting like hell.
Emily had shaken her head. Quick and with finality. Eyes on the floor.
She wasn’t ready.
So Phei did what he was slowly learning to do with every woman who carried invisible shrapnel: I should let her drive at her own speed. She’d let me in when she’s ready.
That day was close—he could feel it in the thinning walls, in the way she leaned into his space a fraction longer, let herself be soft around him without immediately snapping back into clipboard mode.
He didn’t rush it.
Right now… they stood outside Paradise International Airport—the parking lot dim and private, the terminal glowing in the distance but far enough that no one was walking past, no one could see. He’d been here twice already today.
The universe kept dragging him back to this damn airport like it was his second home.
Phei kissed Emily’s forehead.
Emily melted at the forehead kiss. Just—dissolved into it while hre rigid, schedule-managing armor cracked open and something smaller, softer, younger slipped out.
She pressed her face into his chest for one heartbeat, breathing him in that scent that always clung to him—then pulled back and looked up.
Those eyes.
Hazel. Glassy.
Her eyes were so vulnerable and soft and so completely, transparently in love that it hit Phei somewhere behind his chest like a fist wrapped in velvet. She wasn’t hiding it anymore. Wasn’t trying.
The girl who hid everything behind efficiency and organization was standing in an airport parking lot with her heart on full display and didn’t care who knew.
They both went still.
That moment—that specific, charged, breathless instant where two people stop pretending the space between them is acceptable and admit it’s a problem they want to solve with their mouths.
They closed the gap together.
His lips found her soft and warm lips. The kiss of two people who’d been circling this for weeks and had finally run out of excuses not to crash.
He pulled her closer by the waist, his hands settled on her slim frame through the thin floral dress—the fabric so light he could feel the heat of her skin underneath, feel the delicate dip of her waist where it curved inward like it had been carved for his palms alone.
His fingers splayed wide, thumbs brushing the soft hollow just above her hip bones, pressing gently but firmly enough to feel the tremor that ran through her entire body the moment he touched her there.
She was so small against him. So warm. The floral dress hugged her slender build in a way that made her look like something fragile and wild at the same time—petals and thorns.
She was trembling now—small, helpless shivers running through her frame—but she didn’t pull away. She pressed closer. Her arms wound around his neck, rose on tiptoes—and still didn’t quite reach.
He chuckled—low, fond—and lifted her by the waist. Easy. Like lifting something precious and breakable.
Her small feet landed on top of his (flats, thankfully), settling perfectly so now her face was level with his. Now she wasn’t so far away. Now he could see the flecks in the hazel and the way her lashes still carried the faintest trace of moisture from a moment ago.
“Can I stay like this for a bit?” she whispered against his lips. “Even though we’re doing this in an airport parking lot for some stupid reason?”
Phei chuckled again, nodded and pulled her tighter until her breasts pressed soft and full against his chest, nipples already stiff and scraping through the thin fabric like they were begging for more.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She buried her face in his neck and laughed against his skin—the breath warm, the sound small and real. Then she bit him. Soft. Just a press of teeth to the side of his throat that was more claim than pain.
“I know,” she murmured against his pulse. “After all—you refused to be intimate with me in my room.”
He sighed. There it was.
“That’s because I’m scared. I love you and want you was too much, Emily,” he said. Honest. Raw. The words falling out before he could polish the edges. “If we were alone in an enclosed room, just the two of us, I might not be able to stop. And I’d go all the way.”
She laughed—warm, knowing… she’d already figured out everything he was trying to say and had been waiting for him to catch up.
“I know that even though you didn’t say it.” She shifted on his feet, pressing closer. “Heck—I can feel you getting hard already just from a kiss and a hug.”
He chuckled. “Guilty as charged.”
His cock was indeed already getting thick and heavy against her lower belly—poor dragon was trapped between them, pulsing with every heartbeat and the thin fabric of her dress and his pants did nothing to hide it.
She rocked forward deeper just enough to drag herself along the length before he reacted and her dropping all soft care of embarrassment and not being so direct—slow, deliberate, teasing—and he groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her lips.
“Phei…” She pulled back from his neck, looked up at him. The softness was still there, but something firmer had grown underneath it—something that had been building for days, maybe weeks, waiting for the courage to surface.
“I understand that you’re scared of doing anything with me because of what happened,” she said quietly. “But I’m not that fragile.”
His smile faded right away.
He searched her eyes—really searched them but only saw the truth there: not bravado. Not denial.
Just quiet, stubborn certainty.
She wasn’t asking for permission to be broken anymore.
She was telling him she’d already survived worse.
Phei’s hands tightened on her waist—fingers splaying wide, thumbs brushing the delicate dip just above her hip bones, pressing gently but firmly enough to feel the tremor that ran through again.
“Apart from drugging me, the Legacies didn’t do anything else. Not before you saved me.” Her voice was quiet, steady, almost gentle. “So while I appreciate that you’re being so mindful of my situation—I also hate it.”
