Chapter 31
More Than Want
ELI
Iwoke up in Adrian's arms.
For the first time in… hell, I couldn’t remember how long, I wasn’t counting the reasons I should get up. I was just warm. Held.
His chest rose steadily against my back. His arm lay heavy around my waist, protective even in sleep. Our legs were tangled, one of his hooked over mine as if he refused to let me drift anywhere but here.
I closed my eyes and inhaled.
Adrian. Clean skin, a faint hint of cedar from his shampoo, and that warm, impossible scent that was just him. It washed through me instantly, calming something deep in my chest I didn’t realize had been tight.
He was home.
Adrian was home.
His touch, his laugh, his mouth on my skin last night—every inch of him was the place I belonged.
Heat crept up my neck as the memories replayed: the way he’d taken his time, the way he’d held me when I couldn’t hold myself together, the way I’d drifted off with his fingers slipping through my hair.
He’d given me everything.
And I hadn’t given anything back.
A spark of determination stirred low in my belly. I shifted carefully, testing the soreness in my leg, and began easing down the bed, slow enough not to wake him. If I could just get between his legs—if I could just—
A sharp pull lit up along my side, ripping a gasp out of me before I could bite it back.
The sound was tiny, but apparently, tiny was all Adrian needed.
His arm snapped tighter around my waist. He jerked awake with a sharp inhale, eyes wild for half a second as he looked down at me.
“Eli?” His voice was rough and full of concern. “What hurts?”
I froze halfway down his torso with my hands braced on his stomach as if I’d been caught stealing. Another throb radiated through the tender muscle and dragged a humiliating little whimper out of me.
Adrian’s gaze sharpened instantly. He cupped my shoulder and stopped me before I could move further.
“Baby, what were you doing?”
Heat scorched my face. “I—uh—I was… trying to…”
His brow lifted, worry giving way to the beginning of amusement. “Trying to…?”
Fantastic. No escape.
I dropped my forehead to his chest, groaning. “I was trying to return the favor,” I muttered. “And I pulled something before I even made it to your dick. Which is honestly rude.” Not to mention embarrassing.
His shoulders shook—half laugh, half groan. His fingers slid into my hair, lifting my face so I had to look at him.
“Eli,” he said softly, brushing a thumb along my cheek, “you don’t owe me anything.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
His expression softened into an impossible mix of affection and desire.
“Well, maybe next time you don’t try to surprise me before I’ve had coffee.”
I huffed, still embarrassed, still wanting him. “Noted.”
He pulled me up his body and kissed the corner of my mouth, slow, lingering, like he didn’t mind waking up this way at all.
“Come here,” he whispered. “Let me check the pull.”
He guided me back against the pillows, propping me up with a touch that was equal parts doctor and lover. His hands skimmed my ribs first, his touch warm and careful, then traced lower across my stomach. The muscle twitched, still tender.
I groaned before I could stop myself.
Adrian followed the sound with his mouth, pressing soft kisses exactly where his fingertips had been. The contrast of his warm breath, soft lips, and firm touches had my pulse kicking up, my breath turning uneven. I remembered his mouth so well. My body did, too.
He glanced up at me through his lashes, the corner of his mouth curving. “If you still want to return the favor…” he murmured.
Heat rolled through me. I didn’t even pretend to hesitate. I nodded, probably too fast, definitely too eager.
“Pity you’re not a hundred percent,” he teased lightly, thumb brushing my hip.
“My mouth works fine,” I shot back.
That earned me a soft groan that lived halfway between surrender and hunger.
Adrian shifted, straddling my legs carefully so he wouldn’t jostle my ribs or put pressure on my wounded thigh. He reached into his waistband, pulling his cock free, already heavy in his hand. My breath caught.
He stroked himself slow, deliberate, a pace that begged to be watched. And he was watching me, as if every reaction, every inhale, belonged to him.
I licked my lips without thinking.
His breath hitched. “Jesus, Eli…”
Lightly gripping his thighs, my eyes locked on the glide of his palm down the silken heat. The way his muscles tensed. The early morning light hit the wet sheen at the tip.
He looked down at me as if he were starving. And I stared right back, wanting him just as bad.
Adrian’s breath grew heavier, his strokes tightening. Then his thumb brushed my lower lip, lingering just long enough to make my breath catch before he pressed it gently past my lips.
I opened for him without a thought.
He pressed his thumb to my tongue, and I closed my mouth around it, sucking slowly while he watched as if it was undoing him one second at a time. He stroked himself faster, hips giving these tiny, involuntary thrusts as if he couldn’t help it.
I poked his thumb with my tongue, tickling him, teasing playfully. Adrian’s intense rhythm faltered, and he struggled to school his face.
“Baby,” he groaned, voice cracking. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
I let his thumb slide free with a soft pop.
“On what?”
He raked his gaze down the length of me—hair mussed, cheeks flushed, chest rising too fast—then dragged it back up, memorizing every inch.
“What are you thinking about?” I pushed, my voice low.
His answer was immediate. Hungry. “Fucking you.”
A bolt of heat shot through me. I swallowed hard. “My mouth?” I teased, but it came out wrecked and hopeful.
He shook his head. “No,” he murmured. “Your ass.”
The moan ripped out of me before I could swallow it. “Adrian…”
I wanted it so badly my hips lifted on instinct, body begging even though I knew I wasn’t fully healed, even though every part of me was still tender.
But God, I wanted him inside me. I wanted every inch of us tangled the way we used to be, no space, no doubt, no fear.
His breath stuttered at the sound I made, at how openly I reached for him.
“Yeah,” he whispered, thumb brushing my swollen mouth again. “I know you do.”
Adrian’s breath stilled, a sound he only made when he was past thinking and deep into wanting. He shifted closer, knees bracketing my hips, still stroking himself slow… deliberately slow… letting me feel every second of it.
Then he leaned in close enough that his cock brushed my lower belly, hot and heavy and impossible to ignore. Bracing his hand over my head, Adrian leaned up until his fat tip ghosted my lips, making them glossy.
“Give it a lick.” His voice was rough velvet. “Just a little one.”
My pulse kicked hard. I lowered my chin, mouth already parting without my permission.
He guided himself closer, dragging his tip along my bottom lip—slick, smooth, wobbling just slightly. I felt the shiver go through him as I tasted him, that first warm stroke of salt and heat.
A quiet curse spilled out of him.
“Good,” he breathed. “Just like that.”
I flicked my tongue again, slower this time, savoring the way his whole body tightened above mine. His hand slid into my hair, not pulling, just holding me there as if he needed the anchor.
“Now…” He let out a shaky exhale. “A little suck.”
I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, taking him just enough to feel the weight of him on my tongue. His groan was loud and unrestrained as his fingers tightened in my hair.
“Jesus, Eli…”
His hips twitched forward, just a pulse, his body wanting more than his brain dared take. I hollowed my cheeks the smallest bit, giving him pressure without movement.
His head bowed, forehead nearly touching mine, breath coming in hot little bursts against my skin.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, voice breaking. “You’re actually gonna…” His hand fluttered where it held my jaw. “God, that feels so good.”
I hummed around him, letting him feel that too, and his whole body jerked.
He wasn’t fucking my mouth—not yet—but his weight, his scent, the way he hovered there, barely holding himself back… It was perfect. Intimate. Adrenalized.
And the way he looked at me as if I was the thing he’d been starving for—that was almost better than the sex itself.
“Fuck my mouth,” I garbled around him, the words messy and wet, vibrating against the head of his cock.
Adrian’s breath caught, his hips even twitched as if his body wanted to obey, but he shook his head, jaw tight with control.
“Just—” He swallowed hard. “Just let me enjoy this. If you suck me, it’ll all be over.”
His voice was shredded silk, low and frayed at the edges. It went straight to my spine.
My tongue snaked out to swipe the length of his shaft. He eased himself out of my mouth until only the head rested against my swollen lips. For a second, I thought he might stop, give me a breather, gather himself.
He didn’t.
Adrian dragged the slick tip along my lower lip, leaving a stripe of precum behind. Then again, tapping lightly—once, twice—testing my hunger for him.
“Open,” he whispered.
I did.
He pushed back inside, not deep, just enough for the thick head to stretch past my lips, filling my mouth with his flavor. He groaned, a long, ruined sound, and his free hand gripped my hair in a way that felt like devotion disguised as restraint.
“God, Eli…” His voice wavered. “You look so good like this.”
He rocked forward the slightest bit, sliding another inch over my tongue, letting me feel the slow, heavy pulse of him. Not thrusting. Not taking. Just claiming that space. Using my mouth as if it belonged to him. His carefully controlled thrusts became desperate and uncoordinated.
My eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a guttural sound that made my whole body clench. I palmed his ass, pulling him deeper into my mouth.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “That. Stay right there.”
He nudged deeper, almost lazily, savoring every fraction of movement that killed him and saved him in the same breath.
“Let me have this,” he whispered, voice shaking as his thumb stroked my cheek. “Just… let me have you for a minute.”
Then he pushed in deep and held the back of my head, keeping my mouth imprisoned on his cock. It pulsed on my tongue, growing impossibly thicker, taking up all the space in my mouth, and forcing me to breathe through my nose.
He gave one, two shallow thrusts, hitting the back of my throat, before pulling out so I could catch a deep breath. My eyes watered as I smiled up at him, my lips tingling from the stretch.
“Touch yourself,” he grated, cradling my jaw.
Adrian stroked himself quickly as I tugged my pants down, copying his movements, his rhythm. His breathing came ragged, stomach flexing. He tipped his head back in pure pleasure before remembering to look at me, head snapping down, eyes fluttering open.
“Faster,” Adrian urged, increasing his pace.
Heat licked up my side as I flexed every muscle in my arm and stomach, trying to come with him.
“Fuck, Elias,” Adrian breathed. “Open your mouth.”
I parted my lips, my toes curling, waiting, needing the taste of his claiming warmth.
Adrian’s breath hitched, broke, then shattered into a sound I’d never forget. A raw, guttural groan ripped from his chest as he came. Thick, hot ropes spilled from him in sharp pulses.
Most of it missed my mouth, streaking across my collarbone, my chest, painting me in messy white lines. I gasped at the heat, the shock of it, the way it felt like his desire had branded every inch of me.
“Jesus—Eli—” he breathed, voice cracking.
Still shaking, Adrian leaned in and dragged the swollen head of his cock through the mess on my skin. Spreading it over me with a kind of reverence that made my pulse slam against my ribs.
“Keep going,” he rasped. “You’re so close. Don’t stop.”
His fingertips framed my chest as he smeared the slickness, gliding it over my sternum, circling my nipple with his thumb. I felt the stroke everywhere—in my spine, in my teeth, in my shaking thighs.
That did it.
My release tore through me, sharp and overwhelming. My body snapped forward, bending around the force of it, my abs seizing, vision blurring at the edges.
“Adrian—” His name ripped from me, raw and choked. “Adrian.”
A plea. A promise. A thank-you. A confession I wasn’t strong enough to say out loud. I made a mess of his ass and my stomach.
My breath hitched again as the aftershocks hit, my body rocking with them, every wave of heat dragging another sound from my throat.
Pleasure mixed with pain from my healing ribs.
Adrian caught me before I folded in on myself, one arm around my back, the other steadying my hip. He held me through it, tight and close, grounding me as if my unraveling was something sacred he was honored to witness.
His forehead pressed to mine, breath mingling with my gasps. His voice was a whisper, torn and tender against my cheek.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
“Maybe next time… Next time,” I fought to finish, “You can come in my mouth.”
“Next time,” Adrian rumbled against my cheek, “I’ll come in your ass.”