Chapter Fifteen #2
It seems to be riling Elijah up further by the second, and I dig my fingers in a bit more just to test him. Elijah’s hips jump, and he delivers me a scathing glare that has me biting back a laugh.
It seems like he loves when I touch the area as much as I love sinking into it.
“Stop that,” he hisses. “I can not conceal a hard-on in these jeans.”
“No?” I ask, spinning him and pulling his ass against my hardening dick. “Well, I can.” Elijah gasps, and after a moment of standing perfectly still, the little succubus begins to rock his ass against me. “Elijah,” I warn, and he just giggles.
“Hm? I thought you said you could conceal it.”
“A boner, sure. But if you keep this up, I’ll bend you over right here in front of the entire bar.”
Elijah freezes, and for a moment I wonder if I’ve gone too far. But then he looks up and over his shoulder, his parted lips releasing hot puffs of air.
“I can’t tell if it’s hotter when I push you around, or when you push me,” he admits.
I don’t bite back my laugh this time. Instead, I lean down and force it from my mouth into his as I kiss him. Elijah melts against me, allowing me to maneuver his body to the rhythm of the music playing.
We stay like this for a while—Elijah pressed flush against my hard cock while I release some of the building pressure against his body. And by the time someone else takes the stage, and we decide to leave, I notice that his jeans have gotten a bit tighter.
Elijah could not, in fact, comfortably hide a hard-on in his little jeans.
The drive home is full of tension. As if it’s become a mutual understanding that as soon as we reach his apartment, I’ll fuck the living daylights out of him.
Only, as we’re driving, I begin to realize that every time we’ve hung out past that first night, we’ve had sex. What if he thinks that that’s what this is to me? What if this is all our relationship is to him?
Neither of those options is acceptable—not when my end goal is marriage and being buried together when we’re ninety. I can’t let sex be the focal point of our budding relationship; I’m setting us up for failure.
It is my job to guide us, to make sure things work out as planned. I was the one blessed with our best memories, as limited as they may be. I can’t fault him for not understanding how deep things between us are meant to run.
So, as we pull up to his apartment a little past 11:30, I walk him to his door. When he walks in and realizes I’m not following, he peers at me curiously.
“Not coming in?”
I shake my head softly. “Not tonight.”
Elijah’s face falls, and he steps back outside, shutting the door behind himself.
“Why not?” he presses, and I brush my fingertips over his soft, heated cheek.
“Another time, Eli.” I can’t very well say it’ll ruin my master plan, now can I?
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
I bristle slightly at his straightforwardness.
“I…” I start, but no words come to mind. I literally have no clue how to say, “Yes, I want to fuck you, but I can’t!” in a way that makes sense.
“You didn’t like it?” Elijah’s voice is small and insecure, and I notice that he’s no longer looking at me. His big eyes are tracing the cars in the lot below us or taking in the stars above.
Is that actually a concern to him? Could he truly be thinking that after I buried my tongue in his ass and then told him everything he did felt so good I could die?
I don’t understand him. But then again, I bet he’s thinking the same thing.
“Elijah.” I press him into the door, lining our hips so that he can feel my still incredibly hard cock against his own.
He gasps against me, only looking into my eyes when I grab his chin and force him to.
“What?” he whispers.
“I would like nothing more than to go inside and have you put me on my knees. Or maybe this time I’d put you on your knees, and I’d fuck that tight little throat of yours,” I tell him.
Elijah shudders violently, and I can feel it when his fingers begin to dig into my biceps through my jacket.
“But I’m serious about you. Really serious.
And if we fuck every time we see each other, I feel like that’s setting a tone. ”
“A tone?” he questions, and then after a moment, his eyes widen. “Serious about me?”
“Yes.” I kiss his cheek softly, then run my nose over his own in hopes of comforting him. “I’m not seeing you because you’re a good lay. I really like you. So tonight, I’m more than content to have taken you on a nice date, expecting nothing from you in return.”
Elijah stares at me, and something I can’t read passes through his hazel eyes. I brush some of his blond curls off his forehead as he contemplates my words, and moments later, he releases a small breath and nods.
“Okay. That makes sense. That’s… incredibly sweet actually.”
“Yeah? Good.” And because I can’t help myself and my dick is aching, I lean down and place a wet kiss over his racing pulse. “And if you think this makes me a really good boy, the next time I see you, maybe you’ll let me watch you come more than once.”
“Rowan,” Elijah groans, glaring at me as I pull away. “You’re playing dirty.” I can’t help but grin.
“Just because I’m not fucking you tonight doesn’t mean I want you thinking about fucking anyone else.” It sounds possessive and kind of insane, but I say it anyway.
“Don’t worry,” Elijah responds, flashing me his own evil little smirk. “You’re the only person I’m thinking about when I’m touching myself.”
Well fuck me. If I thought I was going to win in a battle of flirting and verbal dominance against Elijah, I was sorely mistaken.
“I think I would really like to see that,” I confess.
And then I’m hightailing it the hell out of here, because if I stay a moment longer, my noble intentions will fall to dust.