It shows as read straight away, and I rush back over to the bed so I can see her reaction.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, her eyes widening, the movement of her chest increasing the longer she stares.
“What are you going to do now then, Hellcat?”
“This is a really fucking bad idea,” she mutters to herself, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, her eyes still not wavering from the screen in front of her.
Unable to resist, I start typing.
Theo: Did I render you speechless, babe?
Hellcat: …
I burst out laughing when a string of drooling emojis follow.
Theo: Do I get a treat in return?
Hellcat: Not sure what I’m wearing right now comes anywhere close to matching up to that. It’s gone straight in my wank bank.
My cock jerks the second I read those words, my mind instantly conjuring up an image of her hand pushed into her lace underwear as she rubs one out to that photo of me.
Fuck, yeah. Give me a live show of that, babe.
Theo: You’re stunning no matter what you’re wearing. Try me.
I watch as she flips the covers back and bark out a laugh. She’s wearing the tiniest sleep shorts that I’m sure would cut perfectly across her arse if she were to stand up and turn around for me. But it’s not those that amuse me, it’s the massive hot pink fluffy socks on her feet that I wasn’t expecting.
And it’s those I get a photo of a few seconds later.
Theo: HOT AS FUCK but any chance at something more than your feet?
Hellcat: Theo, Theo, Theo. That’s not how this works. A photo for a photo.
The smile that plays on her lips as she types makes something inside me light up like a fucking Christmas tree.
I fucking love that smile.
Reaching up, I rub the pad of my thumb along my bottom lip as I study her. Fuck, I wish I was there with her, staring into her eyes as she waited to see what I was going to do next.
Shifting position, I push my hand into my boxers, grasping my aching cock and angling my phone just so. It doesn't show anything. I don’t want to go from zero to sixty quite that fast, but there’s no mistaking just how fucking hard I am for her.
Once again, I hit send without scrutinising the image, and watch the screen.
Her smile only widens as she takes in the photo, and I can’t help but laugh as she blatantly zooms in.
Oh hell, yeah. My dirty girl is desperate for more.
Theo: See what you do to me. You don’t even have to be in the room. I fucking burn for you, Hellcat.
She bites down on her bottom lip, a salacious smile on her full, delectable lips.
Shaking her head, she lowers her phone and tips her face to the ceiling.
I can imagine her giving herself a good talking to. Trying to convince herself not to get carried away.
“Come on, Hellcat. Listen to your body, not your head. Show me how much you want me,” I beg, as if she can hear me.
The thought of turning the two-way audio on and doing just that races through my head.
One day soon that’s going to happen.
I’m going to sit here and watch her follow my every demand.
My grip on my dick tightens, and a growl rumbles deep in my throat.
She moves, slipping down the bed, her vest hitching up over her toned stomach and giving me more inches to lust over before she copies my move and pushes her hand inside her shorts.
“Damn, babe. You’re fucking killing me and you have no idea.”
A small gasp of pleasure spills from her lips as she touches herself.
“I bet you’re fucking dripping for me. Have you ruined your knickers just thinking of me, Hellcat?”
She snaps a picture and sends it. My phone vibrates in my hand, but I can’t rip my eyes away from the screen. She’s writing something to go along with her photo, but her other hand slowly moves beneath the fabric, ensuring her lips remain parted, her back arches, and her hips roll.
My phone buzzes and I can’t resist the temptation to see what she’s written.
Hellcat: Until next time. Good night, Theo.
My hand drops as a moan rips from the tablet’s speakers and I forget all about that final message as I watch her.
“Fuck, Hellcat,” I breathe, taking her in as she works her body into a frenzy. I’m not even pissed she’s doing it without me, because she looks so fucking beautiful.
Releasing her phone, her hand slips under her vest, palming her breast and pinching her nipple as my cock begins to weep for her.
“Come for me, babe. Show me how hot you are for me.”
Not five seconds later does she give me exactly what I need.
“Theo,” she cries, her hips lifting from the mattress. “Theo, yes. Yes. Fuck.”
And fuck if I don’t come in my pants like a fucking twelve-year-old watching his first porno.
“I’m gonna spend the day at Mickey’s,” Emmie talks into her phone as she sits at her dressing table, doing her makeup the next morning.
I can’t tell who she’s talking to. Stella probably.
I don’t really give a crap, so long as I get to watch her like this.
She’s enthralling when she’s totally relaxed and her well-constructed walls are down.
Do I feel like a cunt invading her privacy like this when I told myself that I was going to do the right thing? Nah, not really.
Right now, I know she’s safe. And even better than that, I know her plans for the day. Things couldn’t really be any more perfect.
Well, I guess they could. I could be sitting here, listening to her telling whoever is on the phone that she’s going to forgive me. She could be explaining how awesome I am and how hot those photos were last night, and how she can’t wait to see how hard I get for her in real life.
Keep dreaming, Cirillo.
It’s going to take a bit more than a few dirty photos to make Emmie change her mind about any of this.
Reaching over, I pull my top drawer open and rummage inside for the box I know is in there without taking my eyes from the screen.
Pulling out the velvet box, I flip the lid and pluck her ring from the centre.
The tracker Link put inside it has been deactivated and removed.
A heavy sigh passes my lips as I finally look at it.
My heart sits heavy in my chest as I move it back and forth, allowing the red diamond to catch the light.
It looks all kinds of lonely, not on her body.
This piece of jewellery was made for her.
It’s her to a T. It’s beautiful, dark, mysterious, edgy, dangerous. And one of a fucking kind.
Somehow, I need to find a way to get it back to her. It belongs to her, even if she’s not wearing it on her finger as my wife.
Pain pierces my chest at the thought of her walking away from this.
Dad has assured me that our marriage came with a pretty iron-tight prenup that even the best lawyer in the country is going to struggle to get out of.
But I won’t hold her to it. I can’t.
Not in the ways I’ve tried in the past, anyway.
Forcing her hand didn’t work. All she did was push back harder.