Chapter 16 #2
A dark, rumbling beat starts, and his body loosens, starts to move in small increments above me. I can’t stop myself from reaching out, from pressing my palms to his thighs to feel the strong muscles tense.
Elias groans, a primal, urgent sound into my ear. “Follow directions just once for me, sweetheart.”
I don’t get a chance to correct myself, because his hands shoot out to grab my own and force them behind my back. The force of it hurts the smallest fraction, but it’s covered up by the ratcheting need to be taken apart, to be fucked until the need has been sated.
Elias’ hands are holding my wrists behind the chair, rolling his hips over my lap and ramping up the fire in my belly. He shifts both my wrists to one hand, bringing the other to my front and slowly sliding the tank up my chest.
It gives him room to rut against my bare skin, but even with the lust pulsing between us he’s careful not to put my scars on display. My fingers itch to touch him, to drag him down to me so his mouth can smother the litany of desperate noises begging to be let out.
Elias’ body is sex and sin and touching me in the barest of ways but it’s driving me out of my mind. I need all of him pressed as tightly against me as reality allows.
“We’ve just started,” he chuckles, bending down to press a phantom kiss to my lips. If I try to close the gap, he tightens his grip on my wrists. “I’ve barely started wrecking you, Princess.”
I have to open my mouth in a heavy pant, and Elias groans as he moves his lips across my jaw, down my neck. There’s no pressure, just the tingle of promise.
He flattens a large hand on my stomach, holding himself inches above my lap with his mouth resting on the curve of my throat.
“Dance with me,” he whispers, a sexy rumble into my skin.
“Fuck yes,” I say as his mouth comes back to mine, and I can’t hold myself back from kissing his grin. It’s swift, there and gone when Elias tugs my arms and forces my back straight in the chair.
“I thought I was the troublemaker.” I can hardly hear him above the music, but I can see the words on his lips, and can feel the desire in them.
“Guess you’ll have to be the princess and let me show you how it’s done.”
His eyes light with the thrill of a challenge, and he gives me the tiniest amount of space to stand. He pushes the chair back, and someone must grab it because it’s gone, leaving the two of us alone, nearly pressed up against one another.
“Touch me, Matty.”
My hands fly to his chest of their own accord, pressing my fingertips into the lines of lightly defined abs and pecs. There’s a low hum that I find is coming from his throat when I drag my thumb across it.
He touches my hips, and my body folds into motion without a care. It starts as a gentle rock to the beat, his fingers pushing and pulling me while everything inside of me eats up the attention. Then, his hand slides around to my ass, and the sounds from the women in the crowd make me tense up.
Teeth graze my earlobe, and hot breath pours down my neck. “Don’t worry about them. Think about me. Only me.”
I slide my hands up his chest, locking them around his neck, and I let go.
We grind together, barely refraining from throwing decency out the window.
Elias plants both of his hands on my ass and hoists me up effortlessly.
My legs wrap around his waist, and his eyes turn demanding as my pelvis and packer presses flush to his stomach.
He wants to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss him; it’s written in each tension line on his face. Hell, he probably wants to do a lot more to me than simply kiss, but I’m not giving anything up until my lips are raw and thoroughly abused.
His grip shifts to my thighs, squeezing me tightly, and then he travels down my legs, digging in under my knees. Before I can question the intention, he’s sweeping in to suck on the side of my neck—with lips and tongue and suction—and then he unlocks my legs and shoves me down.
I can’t get my bearings in time, and the next thing I know he’s spun me around and has my back pressed firmly to his front. A hand forms a loose hold around my throat, another digging into my waist.
Fuck.
Two can play at this game.
I tilt my head back and up, feeling his fingers spread to cover as much skin as he can reach. Dark eyes stare down at me as my arms weave around his neck again, this time clenching the teal strands of hair between my fingers.
The rhythm of the music pulses through me like a sacred chant. Elias might have the body of a god, but music and I have a symbiotic relationship; we share each other, intermingle until we become one.
I tighten my grip on his hair, and he lowers his lips to my neck, both of us pushing and pulling and rocking into each other until we’re covered in sweat. His hands slide under my shirt, rucking it up as he digs his nails into my pecs.
The dance belt does a fantastic job of keeping everything in place and stopping his erection from being glaringly obvious, but it’s smashed so tight up against the small of my back that it’s all I can think about.
Getting Elias’ big cock inside me, because if we’re giving into this then I’m going all the way.
I want to be fucked.
I want to be wrecked.
I want to be in tears, sobbing from the overstimulation.
If we don’t stop, this performance we’re putting on is going to turn into a full on porno.
“Lee,” I whimper as his fingers dig into my jaw, keeping me positioned for his mouth to cover mine. It’s still not a proper kiss, just our lips touching and heavy breaths passing from his lungs to mine.
“I have a fantasy,” he whispers into my mouth, “about winding you up so tight, putting your desperate, beautiful body on display just like this, and watching you try to hold yourself together while I make you come.”
If he wanted to find my limit, here it is. I need him like fucking air. My lungs ache. My body aches. My dick is begging for attention, and somehow he knows. He knows the effect his words have on me.
A hand glides down my chest, clawing at the waistband of my boxers, and then slips down to cup my bulge, to squeeze and press it onto—
Our mouths collide so roughly that I can taste the blood on the first flick of my tongue past his lips.
My fingers are curled so tight in his hair it’s a wonder they don’t snap, and it only feeds the ever growing heat that he takes the pain in stride.
Gives it back to me with his teeth scraping over my lip, followed by a sting that has my knees nearly giving out.
The music starts to fade—it’s a wonder I can hear it over the pounding in my ears—and Elias’ mouth leaves mine. His arms loosen, and our points of contact minimize. It’s an out of body experience as we separate, as I try to piece myself together from the way he just unraveled me.
He’s talking to the crowd, I hear it, but none of the words register. I’m a pile of frayed nerves and emotions, and it wouldn’t be far off to say I’m on the verge of losing consciousness. I’m not, but it sure as hell feels like it.
One moment I’m trying to catch my breath, trying to settle the rapid beating of my heart, and the next an arm wraps around my middle and I’m thrown over someone’s shoulder like a rag doll.
The pulsing lights disappear from view, and then we’re encased in darkness and I’m upright again.
Blood has barely stopped pooling in my head when warm lips crash down on mine and a strong arm slips around my waist to hold me close.
Fingers sink into my hair, and mine grapple to find perch on Elias’ skin, digging into the meat just above his tantalizing ass.
Every inch of my body tingles with the need to feel him closer, deeper, for him to be as much a part of me as the music is. The desperation is consuming, filling me so full the only way to let it out is through the tears painting my cheeks with lust.
“Matty.” Elias kisses through the tears, hands roaming my body and holding it in place snuggled between him and the wall. “Princess. Sweetheart.”
“Shut up,” I gasp as soon as I get enough air. “Fuck. When can you take me home?”
He rubs his stubble along my cheek, deliberately pulling more whimpers and moans from me. “Not for a few hours.”
Could I last a few hours?
I try to look around, to place where we are, but it’s too damn dark. I can’t even make out Elias’ big, imploring eyes. Not that I need to; it’s one of those things that I can instinctively feel.
“How likely are we to be interrupted?”
“Tempting as you are, we aren't fucking back here.”
I shake my head even though he can't see it. “Not what I have in mind.”
“Matty.” His voice holds a warning, but also humor and curiosity.
“I have two options.” I lower my voice, making him bring his face closer to mine. “I can hide back here and fuck myself silly on my fingers.”
His breath hitches, followed by a broken moan. “Or?”
I grin and grip the back of his neck, shoving my lips to the side of his head. “Or I can get on my knees and beg you to fuck my throat raw.”
Is there even really a choice? Some part of me is getting fucked, even if I have to do it myself.
“Oh.” Elias is the one trembling now, his desire finally coming close to matching mine. “I’d really like to hear you beg.”
My body practically convulses. “Please, Lee.” I trail my lips down his neck, teasing my fingers into his dance belt. “Please let me suck your cock.”
My tongue licks a path down his sweaty torso, flicking into his belly button with a groan. The ground beneath my knees is carpeted, and thank fuck for little mercies.
When my mouth reaches his underwear, I take in a deep inhale of his hot and sweaty scent, then place open mouthed kisses to his confined bulge.
“Use me,” I whisper, sucking the head of his dick between my lips and wishing I could just sit here and hold him in my mouth until the horniness abates.
There goes his hand in my hair again, this time fisting and twisting until he has it all in his palm and his fingers tugging at the root. A dark, erotic thrill shoots down my spine.
“Are you going to take my cum? Be my good little doll, take my cock wherever you can get it?”
Fuck. When was the last time someone dirty talked with me that wasn’t just calling me a slut and whore?
“Someone’s confident.”
I'm smacked in the face by his now-free dick, smearing precum across my cheek.
“Voltage usually is.”
His stage name. I like that. In fact, new fantasy unlocked and shoved away for later.
“You wanna be my doll, sweetheart?” His hand cups and cradles my jaw, pushing a thumb between my lips. “Want to take my cock down your throat?”
His other fingers stroke my neck. “Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. You just relax and let me fuck you.”
I close my eyes and melt into his touch, lips parting for his thumb to explore the warmth and wetness before I feel the smooth, velvety head of his dick on my tongue.
If he wants control, I’m perfectly willing to give it to him.
His fingers tighten in my hair, tugging my head back so his dick can slip further into my mouth. It's excruciatingly slow, but the taste of him, the anticipation of being filled … it has goosebumps slithering down my arms.
“I bet you look beautiful, Princess. Swallowing my cock so effortlessly.” He pushes forward, and the tip of his cock touches the back of my throat.
The shallow thrusts of his hips keep me from gagging, but when he tilts my head back and sinks his entire cock in me?
Oh my God. Fuck.
My lungs burn like a motherfucker, and my throat tastes like stomach acid, but I fight tooth and nail not to choke, to hold him like a good little doll.
“Swallow, sweetheart.”
Obediently, I do, swallowing around his perfectly thick cock over and over until the hand in my hair yanks me to a stop.
I whimper, and Elias rubs his hand along my throat.
“You're perfect, Matty. My perfect Princess. My sweetheart.”
His dick leaves my throat, and I gasp in a huge gulp of air just as thick strings of cum shoot across my face, some landing in my open mouth. I stick my tongue out to catch more, to lick at what lands on the corners of my lips and chin.
Even if I can't see the fond look in his eyes, I can feel it in every precise move of his body. How he falls to his own knees in front of me. How he pulls me to him, how he kisses me, how I crumble at the first innocent touch of his fingers to my cheek.
I love him, and the thought is so sudden that a laugh made purely of exasperated breath finds its way into our kiss.
This is who I am: falling off the precipice of budding emotions so hard and fast that it gives me whiplash.
That’s why our argument at Randy’s hurt so badly, because in that instance he rejected a part of me and that had hurt more than any stranger’s comment or ignorance.
I can handle people’s gross opinions about my disability or about my transition, but as my feelings have grown stronger, I’ve found with Elias I need his validation, his understanding.
It’s the same hole I fell into with Riley that ultimately led to a spiderweb of heartbreak.
I’m going to give myself to him—what else can I do?—and it’s going to rip open every old wound tying me together. I’ll make the same mistakes, because I care for him. Because I want him to see and hold all of me, and I want him to choose me the same way my heart has decided it wants him.
Even if it breaks me in the end.