Chapter 4 Elias
ELIAS
The low hum of the server banks is the only sound in the Vault.
A constant, electric vibration usually helps me think, keeping the numbers in straight, orderly rows in my head.
Right now, the noise mimics a drill boring directly into my skull.
We have been locked in this steel box for twenty-four hours.
The air recyclers are working overtime, scrubbing the carbon dioxide, but they cannot scrub Mia.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Mia is surrounded by a fortress of my ledgers and her spreadsheets.
The chaotic sea of white pages and neon sticky notes should make my skin crawl.
Oddly, it doesn’t. I count her breaths again, feeding my sickness.
Inhaling takes three counts, and exhaling takes exactly three more.
Fabric rustles against the concrete floor as she shifts.
The noise echoes through the silence, dragging my eyes away from the monitor where I am supposed to be building a firewall against the Costa breach.
Dark smudges bruise the skin under her eyes.
Her honey-blonde hair, which looked entirely professional when I first saw her standing on the highway, falls out of its clip in a wild halo.
Wrecked and beautiful, she belongs right here in my Vault, buried among my secrets.
Then the pink plastic pen goes into her mouth again. Her teeth clamp down on the cap with a sharp click, followed by a grating scrape.
My jaw locks hard enough to spasm a muscle in my cheek.
Typing a string of code that makes absolutely no sense gives my hands something to do that isn’t wrapping around her throat or pulling her by the waist. She has been chewing on that damn pen for hours while frowning at a discrepancy in the shell company’s tax filings.
The unconscious tic is pure torture. My eyes trace the movement as her lips part, letting the pink plastic slide between them, and all I can think about is that mouth on me.
A quick dart of her tongue wets her bottom lip before retreating, and my cock jerks, a leaden, throbbing weight in my jeans.
Sinking her teeth into the cap again distorts the shape until the plastic turns white, and the phantom friction on my own skin makes me want to replace that pen with my own thick length.
I’m tracking every wet slide, my balls aching with the need to empty my seed into her until she can’t breathe anything but me. Forcing my focus back to the numbers and the digital threat proves nearly impossible.
The screen blurs. Slippery and elusive, the mirror signal haunting our accounts moves every time I try to pin it down. I am the Treasurer, the one who keeps the Broken Halos from crumbling under the weight of our own wars. I do not lose, and I never let anything distract me.
Another click and scrape echo from her side of the room.
Fuck the numbers.
Pushing my chair back sends a screech of metal legs against concrete echoing like a gunshot. Mia gasps, her pupils blowing wide at the sudden noise.
"Elias? Did you find something?"
"Yeah." My voice grates like heavy rust. "I found the problem."
Standing, I close the space between us instantly. She scrambles to get her legs under her, trying to stand, but I am already there. Towering over her blocks out the harsh overhead lights and casts her completely in my shadow.
"What is it?" Breathlessness coats her words.
Oblivious, she expects me to talk about the audit, the IRS, the Costas, or the mole.
Reaching down, I grasp her upper arm with a hand weathered by years of working the forge alongside Blake, applying firm but gentle pressure to steady her without leaving a bruise as I pull her up.
Stumbling forward, her hands hit my chest to steady her balance.
Her palms press warm through my black t-shirt, searing the skin underneath.
"Elias?" Her voice trembles.
Plucking the pink pen from her fingers with my free hand, I feel the warm plastic, wet with her saliva. Holding it up, I stare at the mangled cap.
"This," I growl. "This is the problem."
She blinks rapidly. "My pen? I... I need that to—"
"You have been chewing on it for hours." The words rumble low and dangerous in my chest. "Constantly chewing and biting the plastic."
Her cheeks flush a deep, ruinous red. "I—it’s a bad habit. I do it when I’m thinking. I didn’t realize—"
"I realized."
Tossing the pen sends it hitting the far wall with a sharp crack before skittering under the server racks.
"Hey!" She tries stepping around me to retrieve it. "That’s my favorite—"
Catching her waist with both hands, I haul her back. I spin her around, slamming her spine against the wall of steel filing cabinets with a heavy thud.
Shock steals her breath, my body a solid wall of muscle cushioning the impact. Stepping in, I lock my boots between hers. My thighs press against her knees, pinning her flush to the metal.
"You are driving me insane, Mia."
The confession hangs heavy in the air.
Her chest heaves with rapid breaths. "I’m just trying to work, Elias. We have a deadline. The Feds—"
"Fuck the Feds." Slamming my hand against the cabinet next to her head rattles the steel. "Do you have any idea what it looks like? Watching you work that plastic between your teeth, your tongue teasing the edge of it?"
Her mouth opens, releasing a small gasp. Her gaze darts to my lips before tracking back up to my eyes. The terror in her eyes bleeds into a dark, heavy heat that perfectly matches the monster clawing at my ribs.
"I..." She swallows hard. "I didn't know you were watching."
"I see everything," I rasp. "Counting every breath you take is just the beginning.
Tracking your pulse keeps me entirely occupied.
Shifting your weight fourteen times in the last hour tells me your hip hurts sitting on the concrete.
The growl of your stomach twenty minutes ago proves you are hungry, and you keep licking your lips because you need a drink. "
Her breath hitches. "Elias."
"And I know," I say, leaning down until my nose brushes the shell of her ear, inhaling the grapefruit from her skin mixed with stale coffee. "I know you aren't scared of me anymore."
A full-body tremor vibrates against my chest. "Should I be?" she whispers.
"Yes." Pulling back just enough to look her in the eye allows me to assess her reaction. "You are locked in a soundproof Vault with a man who hasn’t slept in days, and I want to do very bad things to you."
Her chin lifts, jutting forward. "I am not running from you, Elias. You protected me, and you fed me. You’re..." She searches for the word. "You’re careful."
That single word snaps the final thread of my control.
"I am not careful," I snarl against her face. "I am starving."
Crashing my mouth down on hers ends the conversation.
The kiss hits like a brutal collision, a pure demand for access.
Devouring her, my lips crush hers, forcing them apart.
She tastes like sugar and raw adrenaline.
A heavy sound vibrates deep in her throat, a whimper aiming straight for my groin.
Her hands clutch my shirt, bunching the fabric to pull me impossibly close.
Groaning, the sound vibrates through our joined mouths as the hunger demands more.
My tongue sweeps past her lips, taking ownership of the wet heat inside.
Exploring the ridge of her teeth and the wet slide of her tongue against mine establishes a primal, heavy rhythm.
Instinct takes the wheel, snapping my hips forward to grind flush against her clit.
A gasp tears into my mouth as she feels the heavy bulge of my cock straining against my jeans. Rock hard and aching, I have been half-hard since she first stood shivering on the highway.
"Elias..." Moaning my name creates the best sound I have ever heard, vastly superior to the click of a balanced ledger or the silence of an empty room.
"Say it again," I command against her lips.
"Elias."
"Mine." Biting her lower lip, I soothe the sting with a quick swipe of my tongue. "You are mine, Mia. You know that?"
Her chin jerks in a jagged, desperate nod. "Yes. Yes."
Dropping my hands from the wall, I grip the sides of her hips.
Her skirt feels soft, some kind of wool blend I bunch in my fists to hike up her thighs.
Needing direct contact with her bare skin, my hands slide under the hem of her cardigan to find the curve of her bare waist. Her flesh burns fever-hot against my calloused palms scraping heavily over her ribs and stomach.
Arching her spine, she pushes upward to seek the friction.
"If you need something to bite on while you work," I whisper, moving my lips along her jaw before trailing down the sensitive cord of her neck, "use me."
A visible tremor rocks her frame. "What?"
Nipping the soft skin just below her ear leaves a wet mark. "Bite me, Mia. Mark me. Put your teeth on something that can feel it."
Sliding her hands up to my shoulders, she buries her fingers into my hair. Gripping the short strands tugs my head back, exposing my throat.
"You’re crazy," she breathes.
"Obsessed," I correct. "There is a severe difference."
Grabbing her thighs, I lift her entirely off the ground. She lets out a sharp gasp as her feet leave the concrete, instinctively wrapping her legs tight around my waist.
Pressing her spine back against the cabinets makes the metal groan under the shift in our combined weight.
My cock presses directly against her wet clit, separated only by her skirt, her panties, and my heavy denim.
Rolling my hips in a slow, grinding circle, I grind the thick ridge of my cock into her pussy, the friction heat-searing through our layers.
Her head falls back as a ragged cry tears from her throat, her pussy already drenched and pulsing against me.
"Please," she whimpers.
"Please what?" I growl, my teeth nipping the sensitive cord of her neck. "Tell me exactly what you want. Be precise. Give me the data."