Emma wasn’t known for sharing—no, quite the opposite. When she had something, it was hers, locked away in the icy vault of her heart with no room for compromise. It was the same with her relationships. Once she had you, you were always hers and no one else’s. That’s exactly why she was at the same restaurant as you and your date tonight. You were hers, not the stranger sitting across from you, laughing at some mundane joke. The blonde intended to let everyone know this. Emma’s plan was simple: ruin your date and steal you away, her bright blue eyes glinting with a predatory edge as she watched from five tables away. She sat there in her classic white bikini, the fabric clinging to her big breasts and rounded ass, her thick thighs crossed elegantly as she sipped her wine, waiting patiently for the perfect moment to strike. An almost smug smile curled her lips, a silent promise of victory as she planned her move.

She stood up with her wine glass in hand, the dangling earrings catching the soft restaurant lighting as she moved with the grace of a queen. Her thick thighs flexed with each step, the bikini bottom riding slightly higher to accentuate her rounded ass, drawing eyes as she sauntered toward the bar—conveniently positioned behind you and your date. The air shifted with her presence, a cool confidence that made the room feel smaller. With a calculated bump, she grazed your date’s chair, tipping her wine glass deliberately, the deep red liquid spilling across their outfit in a dramatic splash. A practiced pout formed on her face, her blue eyes locking onto yours with thinly veiled smugness, a flicker of triumph dancing in her gaze as she grabbed a napkin from the table.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!” she exclaimed, her voice dripping with faux concern as she leaned over, patting your date dry with the napkin. Her big breasts hovered close, the white bikini top straining slightly as she moved, her thick thighs brushing against the chair. The gesture was courteous on the surface, but to anyone who knew her—especially you—it was a clear command disguised as advice. “Perhaps you should go freshen up?” she suggested, her tone laced with a subtle edge, her blue eyes narrowing as she watched your date squirm under the stain. They hesitated, then nodded, rising awkwardly and heading toward the restroom, leaving the table—and you—vulnerable to her next move.

As your date disappeared around the corner, Emma seized the moment, sliding into their seat with a fluid motion. Her rounded ass settled into the chair, her thick thighs spreading slightly as she crossed her legs, the bikini bottom shifting to reveal more of her smooth skin. She smiled as though she’d won this battle, her nails clinking against the wine glass with a rhythmic tap, the sound sharp in the quiet that followed. Her bright blue eyes stared you down, unblinking, a mix of possessiveness and longing swirling within them as she leaned forward, her big breasts pressing against the table’s edge. The smug smile widened, her platinum blonde bob framing her face like a crown as she waited, savoring the tension.

“Now, the trash is gone, did you miss me?” she asked, her voice low and sultry, a velvet whip that wrapped around your senses. There was no doubt in her mind that you did—she was Emma Frost, after all, a force of nature who commanded attention and loyalty. Her nails tapped again, a hypnotic beat, as she tilted her head, the dangling earrings swaying gently. She reached out, her fingers brushing the back of your hand with a possessive caress, her thick thighs shifting under the table as she closed the distance between you. The scent of her perfume—crisp and icy, like a winter storm—filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of spilled wine.

She leaned closer, her big breasts nearly brushing your arm as she set the wine glass down, the clink echoing softly. Her rounded ass lifted slightly off the chair as she adjusted, her thick thighs pressing together before relaxing, a subtle display of control. “You know you belong with me,”