6. Brielle #2
He grunts and pulls out, still straddling me, and strokes his cock twice before shooting hot cum all over my chest. It’s dirty and primal and perfect. He marked me.
Every cell in my body throbs as I continue to shake from my powerful orgasm. Elliot flops down on the bed next to me with his eyes closed, panting and sweating.
We lay next to each other on our backs, both coming down from the intense high we just experienced.
Finally, Elliot breaks the silence.
“That was incredible. So hot. Jesus.” He turns his head to look at me. Reaching out, he traces along my jaw, down my neck, and over my shoulder. “So beautiful,” he murmurs more to himself than to me.
Elliot pulls me into his side and arranges us so my arm is flung over his chest and my head is resting on his muscled arm beneath me.
“I’m going to get you all messy,” I say, referring to the cum he sprayed all over me.
“Don’t care. Need to hold you.” He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Besides, that just means we need to shower, right?” I feel him smile against my skin.
“Mmhm. That sounds lovely. But I need to recover first. I don’t think I can stand.”
He chuckles and pulls me in closer, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me to his chest. A girl could get used to this.
Thirty minutes later, we’re both showered and in clean clothes, though we haven’t been able to stop touching. Right now, we’re curled up on the couch, Elliot stretched out on his back while I’m snuggled between him and the back of the couch.
“So…” I start, propping myself up on his chest. “Want to tell me about the one friend-not-friend you have up here?”
“No,” he deadpans.
"Fine, will you tell me about your friend-not-friend, pretty, pretty please? With whipped cream and cherries on top?" Elliot wiggles his eyebrows, the silly gesture so unlike him that I can't help but laugh. "Not that kind of cherry. Get your mind out of the gutter!”
He gives me a smile before his features turn serious. “My friend-not-friend is Wilder. He was the first one of us to get out of the Army Rangers after that last mission. This whole place was his idea.”
“And he invited you to live here with him?”
Elliot nods. "Yeah. I think it was out of guilt, but I didn't have any plans at the moment, so I agreed.
" He pauses, and I encourage him to take a few deep breaths.
"That day… We were all there. Me, Cassian, Huxley, and Wilder.
We thought we were going on a rescue mission to help get some refugees to safety, but we didn't know it was a setup. "
He grits his teeth, the muscles in his body tensing as he remembers the event. I don’t say anything, I simply listen to whatever he’s willing to share.
“They used their own civilians as bait,” he spits out. The anger is still there, still deep-seeded, but it’s not taking over anymore. I see the moment he gains control, acknowledging the overwhelming emotion and then moving on.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t even imagine.”
Elliot grunts, then wraps his arms around me as if having me close is helping him purge his soul. I’ll be here for whatever he needs.
"I saw the grenade roll across the floor of the basement in that building and tried getting everyone out of the way.
There were some… who didn't make it. And then more grenades were tossed and the whole mission was FUBAR in two seconds.
I must have been going on pure adrenaline because I didn't even realize my leg was half-blown to shit until Wilder tossed me over his shoulder and got me out. "
“That must have been so terrifying and disorienting,” I murmur, my heart breaking for him. For all of them.
"I don't remember much after that. I woke up in several different hospitals across the world until I found myself back in the good ol' US of A.
Wilder was with me for the first few surgeries, then I told him to leave.
I didn't want him to see me like that. I didn't want anyone to see my weakness. My shame."
“Elliot, no. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You were injured in the line of duty. You sacrificed your health and put your life on the line in service of others. That’s the greatest thing anyone can do, whether in the military or not.”
I worry for a moment that I overstepped, but one look in Elliot’s eyes and I see that he’s soaking up every word.
“I won’t pretend to relate to what you’re going through,” I continue, noticing the little spark in his eyes at the reminder of one of our first sessions together.
“All I can say is that from what you’ve told me, Wilder doesn’t know what you need, and you don’t know how to ask for what you need.
At the end of the day though, he wants what’s best for you. ”
“I know. I just… I can’t stand the pity in his eyes. I don’t want him to only see me as the dying man out in the field or the pathetic excuse for a human I was while recovering from surgery.”
“So, tell him that,” I suggest.
Elliot blinks at me, then slowly smiles, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “You make everything seem so easy,” he says, nuzzling into the side of my neck. “You forget that not all of us have social skills like you do.”
“It’s not easy,” I correct him. “It might be the hardest conversation you ever have. But it’s simple. Talk. Tell Wilder what you told me, and then trust that your friend, who sat with you through surgery and invited you to live on this mountain with him will hear you out.”
“You’re right,” Elliot sighs.
“I know,” I tell him with a cheeky grin.
Elliot tickles my sides, making me collapse on his chest in a fit of giggles. He wraps his arms around me once more, holding me close. “You’re too good to me,” he whispers.
“We’re good to each other,” I reply.
Elliot hums in agreement. “I like the sound of that.”