My Taboo Harem! - Chapter 561 - 561: Determined Emily (r-18)
Phei’s control softened into something deeper—his hands roamed with tender possession not minding his set boundaries and lost in her—cupping her ass cheeks deeper, kneading the plush flesh slowly, thumbs tracing the crease where her thighs met her ass; cradling her breasts, rolling her nipples in gentle circles, feeling them harden and pulse under his touch.
He kissed her slower now—deeper—his tongue stroking hers in gentle, claiming rhythms—while his hips rocked up to meet hers, the thick ridge of his cock pressing against her core through layers of fabric, letting her feel how hard, how ready he was for her.
Emily’s moans turned into quiet, pleading whispers:
“Yes… touch me… hold my ass… cradle my breasts… make love to me more, Phei… I need you… I need this…”
Her hands never stopped guiding—pressing his palms deeper into her ass cheeks so he could feel every soft inch, every tremble; lifting his fingers back to her breasts so he could worship her nipples until they ached and throbbed, begging for his mouth.
She arched into him—her body liquid and open in a deep cure of her spine while moaning softly against his lips as his hands explored her with reverent hunger, his touch promising everything she had waited for.
And he gave her every slow, intimate caress she asked for—loving her with his hands, his mouth, his body—until she was trembling, whispering his name like a vow.
Phei let the last fragile thread of hesitation dissolve like mist in sunlight.
His hands moved with a new, quiet certainty—slow, deliberate, reverent. One palm glided down the graceful arch of her back, fingers tracing the delicate dip of her spine through the thin floral dress until they splayed across the lush, warm curve of her ass.
He cupped her there tenderly at first, feeling the soft give of her flesh beneath the cotton, then squeezed with slow, loving pressure—kneading the full globe in gentle, rolling motions that made her sigh into his mouth.
The dress bunched slightly under his palm as he explored her ass’s shape his thumb tracing the lower swell’s weight fingers dipping into the crease where thigh met cheek, savoring every inch like he was rediscovering her by touch alone.
Emily melted against him, a soft, trembling exhale escaping her lips. Her fingers slid deeper into his hair, cradling his head as his other hand rose—slipping beneath the hem of her dress, skimming the smooth, fever-warm skin of her stomach until his palm cradled the bare underside of her breast deeper.
He lifted her breast with exquisite care, thumb brushing over the already-tightened nipple in lazy, teasing spirals—circling, stroking, feeling it pebble harder under his touch until it stood stiff and aching against his fingertip.
She arched into his palm with a quiet, needy whimper—hips rocking forward in the smallest, most intimate roll, pressing her core against the hard ridge of him through their clothes.
Phei kissed her deeper—tongue stroking hers in slow, languid sweeps that tasted like longing finally given voice—then broke away to trail his mouth down the elegant column of her throat. Open-mouthed kisses, soft and wet, the faintest suction that left faint pink blooms on her skin.
Emily’s head fell back gracefully, hair spilling like dark silk over his forearm, exposing the long line of her neck to his worship.
He kissed the fluttering pulse beneath her jaw, then lower—nuzzling the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat—drawing out a low, sweet moan that vibrated against his lips.
“Phei…” she breathed, voice thick with velvet need.
He answered by wrapping both arms around her waist—strong, steady, loving—and lifted her with effortless grace.
She wrapped her legs around his hips instinctively, ankles locking at the small of his back as he carried her the few steps to their car.
The back door stood open; he settled her gently on the edge of the seat, her thighs parting around him as he stepped between them. The floral dress rode up her legs in soft folds, the hem whispering against her skin like a secret.
Phei’s fingers found the tiny zipper at the back of her dress and watched her eyes and she gave a determined nod. He drew it down with aching slowness—the quiet rasp of teeth parting the only sound besides their shared breathing. The fabric loosened, slipping past her shoulders in a gentle cascade of petals and cotton.
He eased the straps down her arms until the bodice pooled at her waist, baring her to the cool night air and his hungry gaze.
He paused, his breath catching.
His eyes traced her with reverent hunger. The gentle swell of her medium breasts—perfectly rounded, rising and falling with every quick, shallow breath.
Her areolas were a soft, dusky rose—slightly puffy, tightening into delicate crinkles as the air kissed them. Her nipples stood dark and stiff, already flushed from his earlier touches, begging for his mouth.
Emily watched him watching her. She saw the raw want in his eyes—the way his pupils had blown wide, the faint tremor in his hands—and she reached for him.
Her fingers trailed down his chest, over the hard planes of his stomach, until her palm cupped the thick, straining length of his cock through his pants. She stroked him slowly—long, firm drags from base to tip—feeling him twitch and swell even harder under her touch, the fabric growing damp where pre-cum had begun to seep through.
“Please…” Phei whispered against her collarbone, voice wrecked and low. “Emily…”
She closed her eyes.
She could feel the last of his restraint fraying—the tremor in his shoulders, the way his breath hitched every time her fingers squeezed just right along his shaft. He was fighting it—fighting the need to take her slowly, perfectly, completely.
She stroked him harder—thumb circling the swollen head through the cloth, feeling the thick ridge pulse under her touch—until a deep, guttural groan tore from his throat.
That act of hers undid him.
Phei’s mouth descended on her chest—hot, open-mouthed kisses across the upper swell of her breasts, tasting salt and skin and her. He captured one nipple between his lips—sucking gently at first, tongue swirling in slow, wet circles around the tight bud—then drew it deeper into his mouth with tender, rhythmic pulls that made her back bow and her breath hitch.
His hand cradled the other breast, kneading softly, thumb flicking the neglected nipple in lazy, teasing strokes until it throbbed in perfect sync with her heartbeat.
Her skin flushed a soft rose in the dim light, her areola crinkled tighter, the unkissed nipple grew dark and glistening from his mouth, standing proud and aching for more.
Emily leaned backward, bracing her hands on the seat behind her, arching her chest toward him in offering.
“Come on, boss…” she whispered, voice husky and trembling with raw need. “Save me from this thick misery of wanting you so much.”
Phei groaned against her skin—low, broken, reverent—and lowered his head again, lavishing her breasts with slow, worshipful kisses and gentle sucks, hands roaming her waist, her hips, her ass—holding her, loving her, finally giving in to the quiet, burning truth that they both belonged to this moment, to each other, completely.
