Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
My head is pounding after three sleepless nights spent worrying that the cancer has persisted while my spirits have not. Every muscle is sore, but having Elijah beside me, quietly reading the book I got him while I try to drown out my sensory overload with my favourite orca documentary, is helping.
Rain continues pouring in thick sheets outside, the sky lighting up beyond the sliding glass doors.
A crack of thunder, so loud it rattles my brain, startles me.
I nearly roll off the sofa, but large, warm hands grip my hips, yanking me back onto the cushions.
I blink at Elijah, processing what just happened, when a rumble shakes the flat, the room flashes bright white, and everything goes eerily silent, darkness falling around us as the power craps out.
I can’t help the whine that slips out or the pout that pushes my lower lip past my top one, disappointment swirling in my gut. “I just wanted to watch the orcas ram into boat rudders and fall asleep out here,” I groan out.
Elijah slides his hands off me, returning to planet Earth. He clears his throat. “I’ll go get candles, and we can figure something out to distract you.”
“Just nothing scented because I’ll v—”
“I know, Adhira. I don’t want you puking all over me any more than you want to,” he says, chuckling as he stands and makes his way over to his room, the lightning outside illuminating his way.
When he returns, his arms are filled with candles of all different shapes.
He spreads them across the end table and coffee table, lighting each one until the room is cast in a warm glow.
His features look more angular, his strong jaw so sharp it could cut through stone, but with the shadows surrounding us, he’s otherworldly in his beauty.
“You have to quit looking at me like that if you want things to remain purely platonic between us,” he mutters so low I’m nearly certain he hadn’t intended me to hear, but the words do the trick, knocking me out of my fixation.
Choosing to ignore the statement, I reach for his book, popping it open to where he slid the newest bookmark I made him.
The tiny cartoon penises and the words “Certified Smut Slut” make me snort, and before I’ve had a chance to inspect the pages, he’s snatching the book from my hands, propping his feet up on the edge of the coffee table.
“Read to me,” I tell him, grabbing my favourite emerald-green blanket from behind the sofa, wrapping it around my shoulders, and shimmying closer. The outside of my thigh presses against his, and somehow, it’s comforting. How odd.
Elijah’s eyes grow wide beneath the thick frames of his glasses. “Wh-what? No. I—”
I roll my eyes. “Just read the damn book, princess. I’m curious to find out just how filthy these books you always have your face buried in are.”
He holds up his index finger, shaking his head.
“First of all, you picked this one out. Second, I just stopped at a super-spicy scene, and I think my skin would combust if I read it aloud,” he admits, and it’s the cutest thing in the world.
So adorable, in fact, that it makes me want him to read to me even more.
“If you get horny, you can just go wank one out in your bedroom. I won’t judge,” I say, waving him off. He arches a brow, his lopsided smirk turning his features from “adorable” to something far more divine. Again, such bizarre thoughts. “Say whatever it is you have to say.”
“And what if it’s not me who gets turned on?
” he asks, his voice dropping an octave.
I have to lean in to hear him, the action brushing my breast against his tricep.
He shivers from the contact but doesn’t back down.
“I read these books every day, Adhira.” He peers down at me as he whispers his next words.
“What if you’re the one left aching between your pretty thighs? How do we resolve that?”
My mouth goes dry, and the most absurd sensation—tingles fluttering deep in my belly—twists my face in…repulsion? I think? Who am I kidding? It certainly wasn't bloody repulsion.
He straightens, careful to remove any inch of his skin that had been brushing against mine, clearing his throat. “I’m kidding, Adhira. I was channelling my inner Niklaus.”
“Who?” I ask, tilting my head to get a better read on him.
“The male main character from Adventurous Love. He says that kind of stuff,” he clarifies, dipping his chin to stare down at the words in his lap.
“Great. Can’t wait to learn all about him. Now read the damn book, princess.”
He lets out a huff as I squeeze the edges of the blanket tighter around me, but his posture relaxes, and his blazing-hot thigh presses against mine, heat oozing through my exhausted muscles.
He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a small bump present along the otherwise smooth bridge from where he’d broken it during a match a decade ago. Settling into the sofa, he begins to read, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enthralled from the very first page.
Kelsey’s wet lips and hot mouth wrapped around the head of my shaft is undoubtedly the most unholy and sinfully sexy thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I’d move on to whatever the afterlife holds for me if it meant death would be this sweet.
Elijah coughs, scratching the side of his neck and leaving raised red lines in the thin skin. His pulse thrums steadily beneath his jaw; I can see the thump of blood beneath his flesh.
My fingers twine into the roots of her messy blonde waves, streaked with purple and blue.
I tug her down on my length until she’s gagging on me, fingers digging into my thighs as she bobs her head, eyes watering but never wavering as they take me in.
My balls tighten, tingles of pleasure erupting throughout my entire body, threatening to suffocate me with lust and longing.
I want this woman in every way imaginable.
Hell, in ways I haven't even imagined yet.
His voice is smooth and serene despite the utter filth flying past his lips. I shift on the sofa, tucking my shins beneath me to face him, my knees flush against his outer thigh.
She taps on my thigh three times, just like we’d talked about, and it brings literal tears to my eyes when I have to obey, releasing my hold on her.
She pulls off me, saliva coating her shiny, swollen, dick-fucked lips.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask, regaining an ounce of the manners I once possessed before her.
She shakes her head, wild strands flying around her shoulders as she pushes up to press her lips to mine.
I don’t hesitate like I used to. I open for her, my hand winding around her neck to press her into me, unwilling to let her go until I’ve had my fill.
I’m certain that day will never come, so I relent when she gently shoves my chest, greeting me with the most beautiful smile highlighted by that damned rhinestone glued to her canine tooth. Fuck, she’s delicious.
She all but flings herself off the bed, waltzing through my bedroom with her bare ass swaying, her hips even wider now we’ve hit the twenty-week mark.
“She’s pregnant!” I shout at Elijah, and he chuckles deeply.
“Yes, it’s a surprise pregnancy romance. That was the trope of choice,” he says, briefly closing the book to slide the dust jacket off, opening it to reveal the couple painted inside, their hands forming a heart on the woman’s big baby bump.
I rub my forehead and scrunch my brows. “Who wants to read something like that?”
He shrugs. “Hey, pregnant people can be sexy, too, I hear. Besides, I’ve loved their story so far. While I’d personally be in hysterics if I got someone pregnant, I’m really impressed with the way the author wrote their story. It’s been real, raw, and”—he tugs on his ear—“horny.”
I cackle, smacking my palm over my mouth. “Keep reading! I need to know why she left in the middle of sucking him off.”
“As you wish,” he murmurs.
“Baby, where the hell are you going?” I ask, resisting the urge to follow her.
She waves a hand behind her, calling over her shoulder, “Just getting a snack.”
“My dick is the snack!” I shout.
She snorts so loud I can hear it bouncing off the tile floors and reverberating back to me. A few agonising minutes later, she returns with a black-and-white pouch in one hand and a cheese stick hanging out of her mouth.
“I’m saving you from becoming this cheese stick,” she says, taking a vicious bite of the mozzarella, finishing it off and tossing the wrapper on the nightstand beside the box of condoms we no longer need.
“Now, close your eyes and let me get back to work,” she says, crouching between my legs.
“After what you just did to that cheese stick, I’m afraid to be this vulnerable around you.”
She smacks my thigh, lowering her stomach into the belly pillow I got for her, hoping to ease some of the discomfort that comes with being a stomach sleeper while pregnant, but this is an excellent secondary use.
“Close your eyes and get your prize, Niklaus,” she chides, using my full first name because she knows I can’t resist her when she does. Joke’s on her though; I can never resist her.
“Yes, ma’am,” I grumble.
With my eyes closed, every brush of her skin against mine is heightened.
The tearing of plastic has my ears perking.
Her hot, wet tongue licks a stripe over my balls, my toes curling, muscles clenching tight, and a gravel-filled groan climbs up my throat.
She suckles my balls, swirling the tip of her tongue over the sensitive skin.
I hear something like beads pouring from a packet, and my brow wrinkles.
Her mouth leaves me for only a moment, my senses being divided by the smell of her wet pussy, dripping and aching for me, her arousal coating my cheeks from earlier, and something distinctly sugary sweet and fruity like green apples.
There’s a fizzing, popping sound, and my eyes burst open as she stares up at me with striking, round cognac eyes, her tongue sticking out, coated with popping candy.
She doesn’t give me a chance to speak before she has the tip of my cock on her tongue, lighting—
“Sweets!” I shriek. “She’s gonna get a bloody yeast infection, Elijah! Is this really what turns people on?!”
His rumbling laughter fills the room, warming my chest, and I aimlessly rub at the spot.
“This author is one of my favourites. She’s a women’s health physician associate in real life, and she makes sure to write realistic scenes.
I can assure you that she’ll be washing his dick and balls before they go anywhere near Kelsey’s”—he cups his jaw, scratching at the blond scruff, his Adam's apple bobbing on a swallow—“nether regions.”
I burst into laughter, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as I gasp for air, my earlier nausea and pain all but forgotten. He joins in with me, his body shaking against mine as he realises what he’s said and how.
“God,” he pants out, still chuckling as he smacks his forehead. “We should really stop talking about this. Are you sure I can’t read you something else?”
I shake my head, a wide smile stretching my lips. It’s so unfamiliar, as is much of what I experience in Elijah’s company. Our laughter fizzles out, and I find my shoulder squished against his, but I make no move to change that, loving that I don’t recoil from his touch like I do with most people.
I suppose I was right when I thought I might be demisexual.
I’d always had an inkling, but since I’d never given myself the time or opportunity to grow emotionally attached to anyone, there wasn’t much of a way to tell.
Living with Elijah—allowing him into my safe little bubble—combined with his massive heart, his ability to make me laugh even in the worst of times, his incredible cooking, and his handsome features, might just be what I’ve needed to put that theory to the test.
We remain like this for the rest of the night, our bodies pressing closer until I’m practically lying on top of him, my lids growing heavy to the soft sound of his voice as he continues to read to me.
I stir, blinking groggily as my body becomes weightless, my heart dropping to my toes for just a second before I realise I’m anchored to a hard, warm chest. Elijah’s heart beats in a steady rhythm against my ear, and I know it’s him, carrying me to bed.
He lowers me down, taking his time as he unfolds blanket after blanket, arranging them on top of me with precision.
He leaves the door open, light from the kitchen filtering in.
Annoyance bubbles inside me, but he quickly extinguishes it, returning with a tumbler of water that he places on my bedside table.
“Thank you,” I whisper, watching in delight as his cheeks pinken when he notices he’s been caught.
“Goodnight, Adhira,” he whispers back, blowing me a kiss that leaves my stomach fluttering as he exits, the door closing behind him.
Nightmares about my mortality do not consume me tonight; they're replaced by dreams of a stunning man reading me books while his little sisters prepare a tea party for us.