Chapter 11
Elijah
Iset the cooler down on Hazel’s front porch and knocked on the door. Shoving my hands into my new pants pockets, I heard a chair slide on the floor on the other side of the door. I checked my watch to confirm I hadn’t shown up early—I was punctual, though.
My anticipation built as she neared, until the door finally opened, and she was right there in front of me. She’d traded her jeans for a dress I hadn’t seen yet. It was burgundy, with a high lace neckline and long sleeves, cupping her full breasts and cinching at the waist. The scalloped hem was closer to her waist than her knees, revealing pale skin stretching across her thighs and calves.
After the lustful way she’d watched me undress, I’d been struggling with a semi since that damn dressing room. Then Hazel opened the door wearing a dress that played with sex and modesty in the same way she did.
This was supposed to be our first date, but I didn’t see how I could cook and then eat before we gave in to the sexual tension between us.
I wanted her to see me as a potential boyfriend, but the chemistry between us was the same as it had been the year before—persistent, hot, demanding.
A pleased smile played on her lips as she took in my appearance. “You bought the outfit.”
I ran my palm over the soft light tan sweater. “I did. I like it.”
“I do, too.”
Taking a step closer, I laid a hand on her hip, the lace delicate under my palm. “I have a problem.”
“What’s that?” She rested her palm on my chest.
“I really want to make you this meal, but you look so good in this goddamn dress, I’ve forgotten everything I’ve ever known.”
She giggled. “That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
Lifting one shoulder, she said, “We should probably get me out of it, then.”
Leaving the cooler on her porch, I kicked the door closed.
I pulled her to me. Arching her spine, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. My lips met hers, and the constant noise at the back of my mind quieted. There was only Hazel, and the taste of her tongue, and the feel of her heart pounding on my ribs—the texture of the fabric of her skirt over her full ass. There was only her soft moan as I pulled her tighter and scraped my teeth along her jaw.
“I love the sounds you make.” I groaned into her neck. “They’ve haunted me this whole time.”
This was good. So fucking good. If all we were was a couple of weeks—a firework blasting bright and beautiful in a dark sky—then at least it was this perfect.
But my arms felt like they belonged around her. The sweet taste of her mouth satisfied a craving I’d searched for my entire life.
This was not the kind of relationship I’d walk away from unscathed.
She pulled my mouth to hers, urgent and hungry. Her words were breathless, and so quiet, I almost didn’t hear her. “I thought about you so many times…”
My hand flexed, squeezing her harder, pressing her heat to my throbbing cock. “Are you telling me you made yourself come thinking about me?”
She bit her lip and nodded. Her brown eyes pleading and needy.
“With your hand or a toy?”
“Both.”
My cock twitched. “Fuck, baby.”
Her hips shifted, rubbing her cunt along my length. “God, you calling me that… Why is it so hot?”
She provoked something primal in me as a shiver ran over my scalp. I wanted to bite her neck and take her hard. I needed distance; otherwise, I was going to lose my fucking grip. I pressed her to the wall, putting a couple of feet between us.
“Show me.” I didn’t think I’d ever sounded so rough in my life.
Her hand twitched toward the hem of her skirt, then stopped. She chewed on her bottom lip and shook her head. “I can’t.”
It took everything in me not to tell her she could. And she fucking would.
That she’d done it unconsciously for me once.
But I wouldn’t push her without her permission.
Instead, I fisted the delicate lace in my hand. “Feeling shy, baby? Do you want me to show you? You wanna see how I fuck my hand thinking about you, remembering the feel of your cunt?”
She slid on the wall, her knees buckling, before she straightened again. “Yes. Yes, I want that.”
I straightened and pulled my sweater over my head. She watched as I undressed, just like she’d done at the store, but this time it wouldn’t be a tease. I wouldn’t stop. This time it would end with both of us satisfied.
Pressing a hand to the wall over her shoulder, I supported my weight and took hold of my aching cock. She shuddered out a breath, her breasts strained against the fabric of her dress.
“I like to start slow.” I stroked from my base to my tip. “I don’t want to come too quickly. I want to savor the memory of you, and I know I’m going to come hard, anyway.”
I kissed just behind her ear and slipped my teeth on her earlobe.
She squirmed, her upper legs rubbing together.
As I rubbed my hand up and down my erection, she fed her skirt into her fists, inch by inch, until I caught a glimpse of her red satin panties. My hips jerked, and I knew I had to pause. I gripped my base, desperate for control.
“Keep going,” she whispered.
But I was too transfixed by her fingertips gliding down her mound and between her legs.
“Elijah,” she said, her voice throaty.
“Fuck.” I started rocking my hips, screwing into my hand.
Her whimpers and moans were gasoline on a flame already burning through me.
I fell to my elbow on the wall, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin of her neck. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but her arm brushed my stomach rhythmically.
The fingers of her free hand drove into the hair at the base of my skull, pulling me to meet her mouth.
I ran both hands up her ribs and found her hard nipples. I flicked and circled my thumbs over them. She arched her back, pulling on my hair hard. It was a good thing I’d stopped jerking off when I had, or I’d be spilling all over her thighs.
I almost did just watching her as her orgasm washed over her.
Fuck, she”s beautiful.
Open and vulnerable. So goddamn sexy.
Her hand slipped out of her panties, and she sucked in deep breaths, her long dark eyelashes resting on her cheekbones.
I wanted her so fucking badly.
With her eyes still closed, she whispered, “I can’t believe I just did that.”
Nuzzling my lips down the slope of her neck, I asked, “Do you feel okay?”
She wrapped her arms around my neck, hitching a leg on my hip. “I feel incredible.”
I gripped the back of her thighs and picked her up. Even with the thin fabric of her underwear still between us, I could feel her wet heat against my aching erection. My grip tightened, my fingers pressed into her flesh.
“Point me toward your bedroom or I’m taking you on this wall,” I ground out between clenched teeth.
Still rubbing and teasing me with each rock of her hips, she practically purred, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“Hazel,” I warned.
Lazily, she flicked her wrist toward the hallway around the corner. “That way.”
“You’re gonna want to get more specific or I’m kicking down doors,” I joked—mostly. “And I cannot swing a hammer, so I won’t be able to fix the mess I make.”
Her laugh was throaty. “End of the hall, door on the left.”
The slip of her tongue on mine had me needing that bed more than ever as I took clumsy steps toward her room. The door was unlatched and thudded off of the wall with the push of my hand.
Her legs stayed around my waist as I found the tab of her zipper at the nape of her neck. It got stuck a couple of times as I tugged it down. I’d normally like to be more composed, more in control, more careful not to rip her clothes, but none of those things mattered at the moment.
I set her down, and her hands ran over my pecs and abs and lower.
I caught her wrists before she could continue her path. “I’m about to tear your dress apart.”
“Do it—” But her words were cut off by my taking her hips and turning her around. Less than a second later, I had the zipper down the rest of the way and was pushing the garment off her shoulders and down her hips.
Her red panties curved up at the bottom, exposing the pale skin of her ass cheeks. I cupped her, kneading her soft flesh.
Slipping my fingers under the thin fabric, I brushed up and down her slit. “So fucking wet.”
She leaned back, pressing her shoulders to my front, and my erection was caught between her spine and my stomach. Her arms circled around my neck, giving me a view of her swollen tits practically spilling out of her strapless bra.
“Tell me there’s a condom in here. Mine are in my pants by the front door.”
“Top drawer.”
I stepped away, and even though I’d be back in a few seconds, it felt too long. By the time I turned around, her underwear was a crumpled scrap of fabric on the carpet, and she’d reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra. Her breasts fell free, full and heavy.
My balls drew tight.
Her naked body brought me to a full stop with the condom pinched in my fingers. The dark curls on her mound, the round curve of her belly, the dimpled flesh of her thighs. She was so soft, and I wanted nothing more than to sink into her.
When my gaze finally trailed up to her face, there was a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
“I love how you look at me,” she said, her voice thick.
I strode back to her. “As much as I love the sight, I need to do more than look at you.”
She let out a surprised squeal as I wrapped my arm under her ass and tossed her onto the bed. Her tits bounced before settling into her armpits. She gripped the light purple comforter on either side of her hips, her back arched.
I was a goner, completely crazed just taking her in. It was physically painful to not be inside of her.
I bit the foil wrapper and tore it open.
She groaned as I rolled the condom on my hard length.
I wanted to tell her how badly I wanted her, how much I’d needed this, but the words were trapped in a hazy, lust fog. I felt drunk or high, time lapsed and stretched. None of my thoughts were clear—just the insistent beaconing of her body calling to mine.
I pulled her into my lungs, and she coursed through my veins. I floated, I sank.
She reached for me, pulling me in without saying a word.
I held her gaze in mine, and went to my knees on the bed. She hooked a leg around my hip, and I slipped inside of her.
She gasped.
I groaned.
Buried completely inside her heat, I waited for my control to return. Her walls flexed around me. I needed something to hold on to, something to ground me. Gripping her palms in mine, I pressed them to the mattress over her head.
Her mouth gaped open, and all the things I wanted to do to that mouth raced in my brain faster than the blood rushing through my veins. I lowered to kiss her and began rocking my hips.
My knuckles were white, holding on to every ounce of restraint I could find.
Her back arched, and I took one of her nipples between my lips. She held her breath when I found the spot that made her thighs twitch. Her pulse throbbed against her throat, fast and frantic.
She spasmed around my cock, and I lost all sense of finesse. I pounded into her. Lost to anything but the soft warmth of her body taking me in, I thrust over and over. The smack of our skin joined the half-formed words of praise I muttered through my clenched teeth.
I speared as deeply as I could inside her as I came into the condom.
At some point, I’d bit down on her shoulder, leaving little red imprints from my teeth. I brushed my lips over them.
Rolling onto my back, I sucked in air and stared at the white plaster of her ceiling.
“Fuck.” I sighed. “That feels so much better.”
She giggled, curling into my side.