Chapter 31 Elena
ELENA
Calder slides his hand under my sweater and up the bare skin of my back, and when I arch into him, he whispers my name, carefully rolls me onto my back, and aligns his body over mine.
I touch his face, his neck, and his shoulders, loving how solid, warm, and strong he is. There’s tension packed under his skin, and I try to soften it with my hands.
He kisses me harder, and I meet him there, wrapping myself around him, pulling him closer, urging him to settle his weight onto me, wanting him to understand I can take it.
He says my name again, breathing it like a prayer, and I hold him close.
“I’m here,” I whisper back.
He opens his eyes, and the heat and vulnerability in them nearly undoes me. He kisses me again, and the comfort that’s been tangled in our actions turns fully into want, then need.
He pushes the bottom of my sweater up toward my neck and makes a strangled sound when my bare breasts are exposed to the cool air. My nipples are already tight, and I moan quietly when he grazes his teeth over one of them, then sucks it into his mouth like he’s starving.
All hesitation is gone as he tilts his hips, pressing the hard weight of his cock against me and taking my other breast in his mouth.
“Calder, I need you.” I cup my palm over his erection and it throbs against me. “Be with me.”
When he moans, I cover his mouth with a kiss and work open his jeans.
He helps me with the zipper, and I slide my hand inside, over the stretched cotton that barely contains him.
I squeeze him through the fabric, then slip my fingers under the band and pull out his thick, heavy cock, so warm and velvety.
Calder trembles slightly as I stroke over the head of him, where he’s already slick with precum.
When I wrap my hand around his thickness, he pulls back, then pushes forward, sliding his length over my palm.
As I stroke him, he fucks into my hand, his breath catching and his eyes gazing into mine, wide with surprise, then heavy with lust.
I want him everywhere, all at once, but my mouth wins out. “Lie down,” I say, as I pull at his right shoulder. I roll out from under him and urge him to take my place in the center of the bed.
His cock looks as good as it felt in my hand. Long, thick, and beautiful with veins, it juts up, making my mouth as wet as my pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” Calder mutters as I bend over him, wrap my hand around him, and swipe my tongue over his tip.
I arch a brow, silently reminding him to be quiet before I bob my head down, wrap my lips around him, and take him into my mouth.
Beside me, Calder grabs a fistful of the comforter and squeezes.
With his other hand, he runs his fingers into my hair, then parts it like a curtain, clearing a view for himself, so he can watch me suck his cock.
I watch him right back, loving how his face looks tortured in an entirely new way. Between gritted teeth, he lets out long, slow breaths. When I increase pressure with my mouth, his head falls back onto my pillow. Less than a minute later, he grabs my wrist and mutters, “No more.”
When I sit up, he reaches for me and tugs my sweater over my head, making an appreciative sound all over again once I’m topless. When I go over to my dresser to get a condom, he follows me, like his body can’t bear to be apart from mine.
He peels my leggings and panties down as I tear off a foil packet, then he sheathes his throbbing erection with shaky but efficient hands.
I start toward the bed, but he grabs my hand and pulls me close, like he can’t wait. He glides his hand up the side of my neck, then cups the back of my head and kisses my neck as we stand there, face to face, his cock warm against my belly.
“Elena.” His breath is hot on my skin as he lifts my leg and nudges the tip of his cock to my opening.
I gasp as it slips into my wet folds, because it feels like I’ve been waiting for this moment forever. “Calder, take me, please.”
We both watch each other as he holds me steady and presses inside, slowly stretching me and filling me. His eyes close as his hips meet mine, and when I squeeze my inner walls, he moans quietly.
He bows his head and buries it in my neck to muffle the sounds of his pleasure as he pulls back, then presses in again.
When I have a chance, I pull his shirt over his head and off, because neither of us has taken the time to do it yet.
Like his SEAL brothers, his torso tells a story of hard work, discipline, and battle.
There are a few scars, but my eyes go to a dark tattoo etched on his side under his ribs, the bones of a frog holding a trident.
But I can’t focus for long, because Calder’s cock is stroking into me so deep, I’d swear I can feel it in my chest. His pace seems desperate, but he moves with control, checking my face to make sure it feels good.
It feels so good. And even better when he reaches between us and presses his thumb to my clit, rubbing and teasing until I’m the one smothering my face in his skin, trying to stay quiet as everything overtakes me.
I grip his arm like a drowning woman as the first wave hits, then a stronger one, then another, ecstasy rolling over me, pulling me under, washing me clean before hitting me again.
I’m lost in it for a blissful eternity, and then, with a shuddering breath, I’m back in his arms, still upright only because of his support.
He strokes his hand across my cheek and threads his fingers into my hair, his hips pumping into me the whole while, his cock knocking shaky breaths out of me with every thrust.
His eyes, full of wonder, are locked on mine, and I can’t hold back a smile. Even though it probably comes across more like a devastated gasp, it triggers him. He moves in a frenzy, his cock hitting a spot deep inside me as he wraps a handful of my hair around his fist and gently tugs.
His hand moves back to my hip, to a spot I’m going to think of as his, just before his eyes squeeze shut and his body stiffens. His cock swells, then pulses inside me with his release.
It’s long and deep, and seems to wring everything out of him.
When he opens his eyes again, he blinks like he’s just coming awake.
When he eases out of me, he scoops me into his arms and lays me on the bed.
After he takes care of the condom with tissues from my nightstand, he lies down next to me, brushes hair back from my face, and searches my eyes. “You okay?”
I let out a breath that feels years old as I assess. Maybe I should feel uncertain or embarrassed or at least drained in the fading glow, but I don’t. I feel calm and clear and safe. “I’m good.”
He nods, satisfied when he verifies my response with what he sees on my face.
It’s a different Calder in bed with me now. Softer, unarmored. Maybe a little confused.
I stroke his arm with my fingertips. “Are you okay?”
“Still figuring that out,” he says, but his expression doesn’t trouble me. After several quiet seconds, where we lie there touching, but not moving, he says, “I need to tell you something, and it’s probably going to sound stupid.”
“It won’t.”
His mouth tilts, unconvinced. “I’m not used to this.” I blink at him, not sure what part of this he means. “Not the sex,” he says, seeing my question. “The feeling part.”
I squeeze his hand and give him a small smile.
“In the past,” he says, “anything shared was just … physical. No promises, no complications. Everybody knew what it wasn’t.” His jaw moves. “This isn’t that.”
It definitely isn’t, I think, but I stay silent.
His hand goes to that spot on my hip and flexes as his eyes dart away. “I don’t know if sharing you with Buck and Weston means what’s between us matters less.”
His vulnerability cuts straight through me. There’s no jealousy in his tone, but maybe there’s fear, as if something that isn’t exclusive can’t be real.
“What I feel for you isn’t smaller because I feel something for them, too.” I touch his face and wait for his eyes to return to mine. “It’s different with each of you. Not more or less. Different.”
I brush the corner of his mouth with my thumb, and his lips part slightly. “The way you’re honest with me makes me want to be more honest with myself.”
His brows pinch into a frown. “About what?”
I look up at the ceiling before meeting his eyes again. “A lot of things, like how well I’m actually handling things, how much stress I’ve been carrying, and even how I feel about the three of you and what I really want.”
Even though he doesn’t say anything, his question hangs in the air as he strums his thumb over my hip.
“I thought loving Tyler meant some part of me was closed for good, but I’m learning my heart didn’t die with him. It just got buried under everything I was trying to hold up.”
He watches me for several long seconds, then leans in and presses a tender kiss to my lips. “You do an incredible job with all that you’re holding up, but I know it’s been hard. You shouldn’t have to do it alone anymore.”
His choice of words seems careful, even if it’s not on purpose. He’s not making any promises or asking for a commitment. I don’t want to overwhelm him, but I want him to know how I feel.
“I don’t think what’s between us is any less meaningful just because it’s unconventional,” I say. “Honestly, maybe it matters more because it isn’t easy. Maybe it’s exactly what all of us need.”
He takes that in without responding, then after a few seconds, kisses me again and tucks me closer to him.