Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
Emelia
Elliott meets my gaze as he pushes into me, and it’s nothing I’ve ever known before. We’re connected physically, yes, but in this moment, it’s deeper than that.
He shifts his hips, pulling out of me before sliding back in. Every nerve ending lights up, and I arch my back, unable to remain still. He does it again and again and again, maintaining eye contact, until he grips my ankles and spreads my legs wide, looking down at where we’re joined.
“You should see how well you take me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter than this.”
Elliott’s words make me feel desirable and proud, of all things.
He keeps my legs separated and thrusts into me, watching the whole time.
“Fuck…” The word comes out as a groan. “Touch yourself.”
I do as he says, licking the tips of my ring and middle fingers before bringing them to my clit. When I massage myself, the first flutters of my orgasm stir.
Elliott must feel it too because he says, “That’s it. Get yourself off while I’m stretching this pussy.”
I moan, loving it. I can’t help it. There’s no way I would’ve thought that Elliott would be a dirty talker, but I am here for every second of it. When I apply more pressure, my core tightens around his hard length.
“I’m close, I’m close.”
He picks up his pace, and the push and pull of him, the drag of his hard length against my nerve endings, coupled with my fingers, throws me over the edge before I’m entirely prepared for it. My eyes squeeze shut, and I come on a cry, with no idea what words slip out of my mouth.
Rather than slow his pace, he rips my hand away from my clit, leaning over me and pinning it to the mattress over my head.
The position changes the angle of his cock, and every time he thrusts into me, he hits that perfect spot inside me, the one that feels amazing and yet too intense.
I instantly want more of it and want it to stop, all at the same time.
Elliott pushes harder, and in less than a minute, I’m coming again, harder than I did the first time. I’m aware of Elliott shuddering inside me, then holding himself there as he empties himself into the condom on a strangled groan.
We both lie there, trying to catch our breath, trying to process what just happened.
Elliott gently removes my legs from around his shoulders, and they fall to the mattress before he pulls back to gaze down at me. His eyes travel my face, while he gently pulls back the sweat-slicked hair that’s stuck to my forehead.
He leans in to kiss me, and I’m not sure what I expect, but it isn’t the sweet, almost cherishing kiss that he gives me.
That was the most passionate sex of my life, followed by the sweetest, most weighted kiss I’ve ever received. This man is such a juxtaposition sometimes.
“That was intense.”
I chuckle. “Understatement of the century.”
“I don’t want to move, but I need to get rid of this condom.”
I nod, even though I don’t want him to go either.
He rolls off me and goes to the bathroom, returning a minute later and sliding back into bed with me, pulling me into his chest. We lie for a long while, not saying anything, until Elliott groans. Given that my ear is directly against his chest, it sounds deeper than usual.
“I have to go get Baylor from school pickup.” He tugs me back before I can roll off him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“You said you have to go.”
Without warning, he rolls us over so that I’m on the bottom, and I yelp, then chuckle, my arms wrapping around his neck, my fingers playing with his hair.
“We have a couple of minutes.” He lowers his body to mine, and I feel the press of his growing erection against my thigh.
His lips meet mine, and my fingers grip his hair a little tighter. I could easily become addicted to this…to him.
When things really heat up, I turn my head, not allowing him to kiss me. “You have to go.”
Elliott groans and drops his head into the curve of my neck, his facial hair tickling me. Then he rolls off me and gets up before getting dressed. All that physical labor he does over at the camp has done wonderful things for his body, so I ogle him for a minute before getting dressed myself.
His heated eyes watch me gather my discarded clothes and put them back on, and I studiously avoid the invitation in his gaze.
Once we’re both dressed again, he pulls me into him, his deep-blue eyes full of some emotion I can’t quite name. “Thank you, Emelia.”
I chuckle. “Did you just thank me for having sex with you?”
“No.” He shakes his head, then kisses my temple.
“No, I’m thanking you for…I don’t even know.
Being you, I guess? I was a complete dick to you when you first came to town, and you didn’t hold it against me.
I just…I guess, thank you for reminding me that there’s more to life than the way I’ve been living for the past five years. ”
Who is this man, and what has he done to the grumpy one?
“You deserve to be happy, Elliott.”
“Well, I am very happy. And very, very satisfied.” He grins.
I playfully shove at his chest. “Good to know.”
“And you really are okay keeping this under wraps in front of Baylor?”
My head tilts. “Of course. Though that’ll be harder now that I know how you are in bed.”
He laughs and pulls away. “I better get out of here before I can’t pull myself away.”
“Wait. First, let me…” I run my fingers through Elliott’s hair.
“You have thoroughly messed-up hair going on. As soon as you step up to the school, every mom there would know what you were just doing.” Considering how his hair usually falls perfectly back into place the moment he runs a hand through it, I wouldn’t have thought the mess was possible. “Where’d your hat go?”
“Not sure. I think I lost it outside somewhere when we were kissing.”
I grin at him as I do my best with both hands to make his hair look okay. “There, that’ll have to do.”
“Thank you.” He places a quick kiss on my lips.
“You’re welcome.” I bend to grab my phone off the floor, where it must’ve come out of the back pocket of my jeans when my pants were discarded.
Out of habit, I look at the screen and still. There’s a text message from a number I don’t recognize, but what I do recognize is the name in the message—Tanya Eaton.
My heart beats erratically.
“Emelia, what is it?”
“What? Nothing.” I turn off the screen and glance up at him.
“Don’t give me that.” He tugs me forward by a belt loop on my jeans. “You went from relaxed to tense in a second flat.”
I place my forehead on his chest, then pull back to look at him. “I think that woman just texted me about my mom.”
Understanding crosses his face, and he tugs me into an embrace. “How do you feel about that?”
“Conflicted.” To put it lightly. “Now it’s real. I have to talk to my parents before I respond to her. I can’t move forward without talking to them first.”
Just the idea of calling them with this news makes my mouth go dry.
Elliott pulls me back and cups my cheeks. “Then that’s what you’ll do. And it will be fine because your parents love you.”
On some level, I know he’s right. It’s not like my parents are going to disown me and never speak to me again. I just can’t stand the thought of them thinking that I don’t feel as though they were enough.
I’ve been putting this off for long enough, though. Tonight is the night I have to call them.