7. Gemma
Elijah’s hand lingers on the small of my back as we walk, the warmth of his touch sending tingles through my body. He leads me to an elevator without stopping or looking around, unconcerned about our appearance. His confidence is both intimidating and attractive.
The elevator doors are barely closed before he pushes me back against the wall, pressing his lips to mine. With one smooth motion, he hoists my legs around his waist, and I feel the unmistakable pressure of his erection through our clothes.
He grinds it against my clit in a perfect rhythm, igniting the aching need building between my thighs, making me want more. Another moan escapes me as his hands dig into the flesh of my ass.
“How many floors are left?”
“Patience, we—”
The elevator ding cuts him off, and the doors are barely open as Elijah slips through with my legs around his waist. Straight to his bedroom.
I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, eager to get at the skin beneath. He puts me down and takes over, stripping off his jacket and shirt himself, revealing a chest sculpted from marble.
My gaze roams over him, drinking in every ridge and curve of muscle.
“Wow.” I gulp and reach out, brushing my fingers over the taunt muscles. Now, I regret not doing more sports or joining Mary in her daily morning yoga sessions. “You work out. Like a lot.”
“Well. I have to keep up with you.”
Is he joking?
A bitter chuckle bubbles up. “This is keeping up with a model, not me.”
He tilts my chin up, forcing my eyes to his, and I can see the hunger in them, mirroring my own.
I swallow hard, his thumb swiping across my lower lip.
Elijah smiles. A slow, sexy smile that makes my heart race. “You’re beautiful.” He bends down, his lips softly touching my ear. “I mean it. You’re fucking gorgeous.”
I feel my face flush at the compliment, and blatant desire courses through me. It’s been so long since someone has looked at me the way Elijah is looking at me. This raw, primal hunger is so different from the polite restraint I had with Oliver. For the first time in a long time, I feel desired and wanted. And it’s all thanks to Elijah.
Elijah steps closer. His fingers tangle in my hair, tilting my head back as his lips claim mine in a searing kiss. I melt into his embrace, dizzy from the potent mix of his woodsy cologne.
With a gentleness that belies his powerful frame, Elijah walks me back towards the bed, our bodies never parting.
His lips blaze a trail down my neck as he tugs at my dress and opens up my bra. Both fall to the ground as he shoves the fabric down.
I reach for his belt buckle, impatient to unwrap the rest of him, but he catches my hands.
A throaty chuckle. “On the bed. Now.”
I scramble onto the king-sized bed with dark blue sheets. He moves toward me, sliding my panties down my legs in one smooth motion.
I shiver, completely bare before him. But the heat in his gaze banishes any self-consciousness as he drinks in every inch of my body with undisguised hunger.
“Spread your legs for me.”
I do as he says with no hesitation, parting my thighs and arching my back in invitation. He runs his hand up my inner thigh, tracing a line of heat until his fingers stop right in front of my core.
He pins my wrists above my head and captures my mouth again.
His lips move from my neck down to my collarbone. My body trembles with need as his tongue flicks over my nipple, and he palms my other breast, thumb circling the hardened peak.
“I could spend hours exploring every inch of you.”
I gasp and arch into him as he kisses his way down to the apex between my thighs, where an ache is already consuming me. It’s been ages since I’ve felt wanted like this.
He inserts one finger inside me, and I moan in delight as he begins to move it tantalizingly slow.
“So wet for me again.”
He circles my clit until I’m writhing beneath him, desperate for more.
Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he removes his finger and positions himself between my thighs, trailing his fingers along the inner side. Bending his head down, he licks a hot stripe along my folds, circling my clit with the tip of his tongue.
I cry out, fisting my hands in his hair. He’s driving me out of my mind, and I would like to return the favor before I’m pudding in his hands.
“Wait.”
His eyes shoot up to mine.
“Don’t you like…”
“Like what?” He teases my core with suctioned kisses.
“A blowjob?”
“Next time.” He pushes two fingers inside of me.
“Next time?” My voice is shrill as I try to hold in my moans. Isn’t this supposed to be a one-time thing? Did times change? I mean, he is good, so why complain?
“Yes. Next time. And now stop thinking.” His thrusts become faster and deeper as he works them in and out of me, building up an incredible sensation inside of me that only grows with each movement.
In an instant, I break apart, my body arching off the bed as I climax for the second time tonight. He works me through it, only stopping when my body eases on to the mattress.
“Good girl.” That stupid, cute, and handsome grin of his.
I want him to fuck me until I can’t walk straight. The thought makes me blush, but I refuse to break eye contact.
Rather, I reach up to cup his cheek. “I need you inside of me.”
“Fuck.” He gets off the bed to undress, revealing the rest of his body.
A body sculpted to perfection, all hard muscle and tanned skin. His cock is huge and thick, and my thighs clench together seeing it. The need to have him inside me builds up, knowing I’m the one affecting him like this.
He strokes himself lazily. “Say it again.”
This time, I hesitate. I can’t say that again. It’s embarrassing how needy I am.
He tears apart my thighs and crawls back on top of me, covering my body with his.
“Say it again.”
Our bodies align in a perfect fit, and I whimper at the sensation of his rigid length trapped between us. His teeth graze my neck as he glides his cock over my wet folds.
Each word matches the rhythm of his movement as he says, “Say. It. Again.”
“I need you… inside of me.”
“Good girl.” Elijah leans back, gripping my hips to position himself at my entrance. We’re poised on the brink, both breathing hard. His eyes bore into mine as he stretches me inch by delicious inch.
He bottoms out with a grunt, pausing to give me a moment to adjust. I relish the feeling of being so intimately connected, wrapped around his thick length like a glove.
His voice is strained. “You okay?”
More than okay.
I nod and roll my hips, urging him to move.
“You take me so well.” Elijah pulls out until only the head remains inside me before sliding back in hard, wringing desperate moans from my lips. The drag and glide lights up every nerve ending, and I rock my hips to meet him.
“Don’t stop.” I sink my nails into his back, getting closer and closer to release.
“Trust me, I won’t.”
With a firm grip on my hips, he lifts them and increases the speed, driving into me with enough force to scoot me up the bed. The new angle allows him to hit my sweet spot on every stroke, driving my pleasure higher and higher.
I’m already hovering at the edge again, chasing another release. As if sensing it, Elijah reaches between us to circle my clit.
My body spasms uncontrollably as a third climax rips through me while I scream his name. His mouth claims mine again, hot and demanding.
I squeeze tightly around Elijah’s throbbing cock, drawing out his own orgasm and reveling in his guttural, deep, throaty groans as he keeps pounding into me. After a brief moment, his rhythm falters, and his fingers tighten on my hip as heat floods my core. He collapses on top of me, his breath tickling the side of my neck.
“You okay?” he asks.
It’s the second or third time he’s asking that. Do I look that fragile?
Smiling, I turn to face him. “Absolutely.” Absolutely wrecked in the best possible way.
A satisfied, wicked smile curves across his lips before he kisses me deeply again.
When my breathing steadies, Elijah pulls back. “Let me get you something to drink.”
After putting on some sweatpants, he walks out, leaving me alone in his room.
The walls are painted white and lined with some abstract art pieces in acrylic, and the furniture is sleek, made of black wood with metallic accents here and there. It gives off a luxurious feeling with the minimalistic dark decor.
I roll onto the side and scooch closer to the nightstand. It’s made of the same black wood as the rest, with a lamp and a clock on top. It’s 3 am. 3 am!
Would it be normal to stay over? No, right? I mean, what should I expect? Pancakes in bed? I can’t believe I have lost track of time so easily.
I get off the bed and start gathering my clothes, slipping them back on. Except for my slip, which is missing.
My eyes dart around the floor. Where did it go? Ah, got it. I grab the slip and hold it up like a trophy, only to see Elijah standing in the doorframe with two glasses of water in his hands.
His eyes are narrowed, and his lips are set in a tight line. “What are you doing?”
“Heading… home.” I lower my head while dropping my hand, holding the slip. This is so embarrassing.
“You should stay the night.”
“I should get back.”
He remains silent and sets the glasses down on the dresser. I tense up as he advances towards me, stopping mere inches from me.
His index finger nudges my chin up to meet his eyes. “You’re not leaving. So either you can get out of this dress yourself, or…” He looks me up and down. “I will do it for you.”
“I’ll stay.” I avert my gaze, sweep past him to the dresser, and take a sip of water, feeling it refresh my throat. “Thanks for the water.”
“Didn’t you forget something?”