  &quot;You took your hair down … It sounds so nothing when I say it aloud, but I saw you at your desk, sitting engrossed in work. I watched you for a moment, transfixed by the difference it made. You looked soft and innocent, almost vulnerable, like losing that polished, school mistress hair had made you forget the mask for a second and I knew straight away that I was in danger of having my head fucked over by a girl who didn't seem to want to know me.&quot; He kisses me again, more meaningfully this time.
      &quot;How could you know that when you barely knew anything about me?&quot; I giggle at him and his earnestness. My racing thoughts calming away as we lay here.
      &quot;Because I had come to realize that you didn't trust men. You didn't trust me. There was something about you, a fear about letting me, or any guy, close, I could sense it even though I didn't understand it … A

  &quot;You said you wanted to go see her, so we're going.&quot; He hands me my case to pack, but I put it back down on the bed moodily.
      &quot;I've changed my mind.&quot; I pout, trying to avoid his gaze on me, sitting on the edge and pulling at my hair. I'm emotional again and I've no idea why. This was decided by me and yet now he's making good on my decision, I've changed my mind.
      &quot;Look, Emma … I know things with her are messy, but I don't want you waking up one day and regretting this. Go, talk … Just do it.&quot; He picks up my case and flips it open, pulling my fingers out of my hair as he passes, wandering to the wardrobe he starts pulling out some of my casual clothes and throwing them toward it.
      What is this obsession he has with packing for me?
      &quot;Why do you care if I see her or not?&quot; I snap, irritated by his pushiness. We've had a week of l

  &quot;I don't think so. I said when I choose, not you.&quot; He lifts me up from the floor around the waist, igniting my flight or fight mode and I begin clawing and kicking furiously. Physically fighting him but he just laughs at me when he dumps me back on the bed. The anger searing now, teen Emma so undeniably on show and spitting teeth. All hands and claws, slapping and launching at him. No hiding my crazy from him anymore, she is on full show and he isn't fazed by her at all. Instead he handles her like a pro.
      I was so close to orgasm that his stopping has sent me over the edge. I throw myself at him, trying for a slap, his hand catching my wrist, I try with the other, but he catches that too. Throwing me on my back hard on the bed and following fast, he kisses me harshly, his mouth demanding, his touch forcing me to open and let him in. His tongue pushing against mine almos

&quot;You took your hair down … It sounds so nothing when I say it aloud, but I saw you at your desk, sitting engrossed in work. I watched you for a moment, transfixed by the difference it made. You looked soft and innocent, almost vulnerable, like losing that polished, school mistress hair had made you forget the mask for a second and I knew straight away that I was in danger of having my head fucked over by a girl who didn't seem to want to know me.&quot; He kisses me again, more meaningfully this time.
      &quot;How could you know that when you barely knew anything about me?&quot; I giggle at him and his earnestness. My racing thoughts calming away as we lay here.
      &quot;Because I had come to realize that you didn't trust men. You didn't trust me. There was something about you, a fear about letting me, or any guy, close, I could sense it even though I didn't understand it … And seeing you just for that moment without the mask, a glimpse of a girl you were trying to protect 

Chapter 69