11. Elise #2
“Okay.” He stands, releasing my hand. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
“Rowan.” He pauses at the door. “Thank you. For being patient.”
“Always.”
He leaves, and I lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind still churning.
Trust. Risk. Faith.
Words that used to mean something, before Simon taught me how easily they could be weaponized.
I don’t know if I’m ready to believe in them again. But lying here in the dark, listening to the rain against the window, I realize I want to try.
That has to count for something.
***
I wake to the door clicking shut and his weight settling on the edge of the bed.
It’s still dark, the rain still going. “Tell me to go,” he says, low, and I answer by lifting the covers, and then he’s against me, solid and warm, his hand already sliding up under my tank top.
“I lasted about an hour before I couldn’t take it,” he says against my throat.
I should send him back to his room. I don’t.
“Quiet,” he murmurs, rolling over me. “Simon’s right down the hall.”
The bed frame gives a low creak that makes us both pause. Rain slams the roof outside and the wind rattles the windowpane. His weight settles between my spread thighs and he braces on his forearms.
I nod my head, already sliding both hands down to his belt.
I unbuckle it, drag the zipper open, and push his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock.
He’s thick and heavy in my palm when I wrap my fingers around him.
He’s hot, already leaking at the tip. I stroke him slow, thumb rubbing over the head, spreading the slick.
He lowers his head and kisses me. Not quick. Deep and open, tongue sliding against mine like he’s been starving for it. I kiss him back the same way, messy and wet, while I keep working his cock in my fist. He groans quietly into my mouth and grinds forward against my hand.
We stay like that for a long minute, just making out in the dark, slow and unhurried.
His hand cups my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple until it tightens.
He pinches it lightly and I arch up into his touch.
When he breaks the kiss he doesn’t go far.
He drags his mouth down my throat, open and hot, teeth scraping just enough to make my breath catch.
He lingers there, sucking at the spot below my ear that always makes my thighs twitch.
I push at his shirt until he helps me pull it off. Then I’m the one kissing him. I bite his bottom lip and lick across it before diving back in, tongues sliding slow and dirty while I stroke his cock from base to tip. He’s so hard it twitches in my grip every time I squeeze.
Rowan tugs my nightshirt up and over my head, tossing it somewhere off the bed.
The cool air hits my skin for half a second before his mouth is on me again.
He kisses down between my breasts, then turns his head and sucks one nipple into his mouth.
Tongue circling, then sucking harder, teeth grazing.
I bite my own lip to stay quiet and thread my fingers through his hair, holding him there.
He does the same to the other side, slower this time, sucking and licking until both nipples are wet and aching.
Lower. He kisses down my stomach, open-mouthed and unhurried, tongue tracing a line above my navel.
Then lower still. He settles between my thighs and presses one long, slow kiss right above my clit, right where I’m already throbbing.
He doesn’t lick me yet. He just breathes hot against my pussy and kisses the crease of my thigh, then the other side.
Teasing. I rock my hips up once, impatient, and he gives me another kiss, closer this time but still not where I want him.
“Rowan,” I breathe, barely a sound.
He comes back up and kisses me hard, swallowing the word.
While our mouths move together, his hand slips between my legs.
Two thick fingers slide through how wet I am and push inside me in one slow thrust. I moan into his mouth and he shushes me softly, not breaking the kiss.
He fucks me with his fingers like he’s got nowhere else to be.
Deep, curling strokes that drag over that spot inside me while his thumb circles my clit in tight, relentless circles.
I keep stroking his cock the whole time, matching his rhythm. I’m dripping onto his hand. Every time he curls his fingers my cunt clenches around them and he kisses me harder, like he’s trying to eat the sound before it escapes.
He pulls his fingers out and I feel how soaked I am, slick sliding down the inside of my thigh.
He reaches for his jeans on the floor, digs the condom out of his pocket, and tears the packet open.
I take it from him this time. I roll it down his cock myself, slow, watching my hands work, feeling every ridge of him through the thin latex. He watches me too, eyes dark.
Then he’s between my legs again. He kisses me once more, deep and filthy, as he lines up.
The head of his cock presses against my entrance and he pushes in.
One long, steady slide. The stretch burns in the best way.
I feel every inch as he sinks into my cunt until his hips are flush against mine and he’s buried to the hilt.
We both go still when the bed creaks under us. He waits, forehead pressed to my shoulder, breathing ragged against my neck. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold him there, clenching around his cock on purpose.
When it’s safe he starts to move.
Slow. So fucking slow. Long, deep thrusts that drag his cock almost all the way out before he pushes back in.
He keeps one hand over my mouth, palm warm and firm, while his mouth works the side of my face, my jaw, the shell of my ear.
I kiss every part of him I can reach. His shoulder, his neck, the corner of his mouth when he lets me.
“Fuck, Elise,” he whispers right against my lips before kissing me again, open and hungry. “You feel so good. So wet. Your cunt is gripping me like it doesn’t want to let go.”
He fucks me in that steady, unhurried rhythm, grinding deep on every thrust. His free hand slides down between us and rubs my clit in the same slow circles he used with his fingers.
Every few strokes the bed gives a tiny squeak and he stops, grinds instead of thrusts, keeps his cock buried while he kisses me through it.
I roll my hips up to meet him, chasing more, pulling him deeper with my legs.
The heat builds thick and heavy in my stomach. My cunt flutters around him, squeezing on every deep push. He feels it and presses his hand tighter over my mouth, thumb stroking the corner of my lips like he’s trying to soothe me even while he ruins me.
I’m close. He grinds in hard, circles my clit faster, and I come with my whole body locking around his cock.
It rolls through me in long, silent waves.
My pussy pulses hard, clenching and soaking him while I breathe sharp through my nose and press my mouth harder into his palm.
I don’t make a sound. Rowan keeps fucking me right through it, slow and deep, mouth on my neck, sucking a mark I’ll have to cover tomorrow.
He fucks me through the last aftershocks, holding still when another creak threatens to give us away. Only when my body goes soft under him does he pull out.
He goes completely still between my spread thighs.
I open my eyes in the dark. “What’s wrong?”
He’s looking down between us. The condom is still around the base of his cock, but there’s a clear tear near where it meets him, a wet split in the latex.
“The condom,” he says, his voice strange. “It broke.”