Chapter 6 #2
He released another groan of arousal as my fingers deftly worked against his belt, getting on my knees to simultaneously pull down and off his jeans and underwear.
With his hard cock standing at attention, directly in my eyeline, my mouth moistened with desire.
He was big. I’d expected him to be. Any man with ‘big dick energy’ had the opposite situation going on below the belt.
But considering Elliot’s easy confidence, his sexual aura…
I’d been certain he had a perfect dick. Not too big—because as much as men assigned importance to a huge hog, it was not enjoyable to women. And not too small.
No, he had the perfect dick.
Perfect dick… Something I’d previously thought was an oxymoron. But there it was, staring me in the face.
Also, I’d never truly wanted to give a blow job. They called it a job for a reason. The act itself was arousing as part of the whole package of sex, and giving oral usually meant you received it, so I never did it out of the goodness of my heart.
But the urge I had right then, to wrap my lips around his head, was pure need. No expectation. I wanted to make Elliot feel good. He’d done that to me … and then some.
My mouth opened as I leaned forward to do just that when his hand snatched my hair, tugging it back so my chin jutted up.
The pressure Elliot was exerting was enough to send prickles of pain into my scalp, but only enough to center my awareness on every strand of my hair. I locked onto his eyes, hard and powerful on me.
“Did I say you could do that?” he growled, his rough voice sounding nothing like the amiable man I’d met on the dock that sun-drenched day.
“I didn’t think you’d complain,” I replied, not enough snark in my tone to resemble the woman I was on that dock that day either.
Keeping hold of my hair for a second longer, he exerted enough pressure to urge me upward. My body brushed against his as I came almost face-to-face with him. I was shorter without my heels, but I was tall for a woman.
With Elliot’s fist wrapped around my hair, my scalp continued prickling with sensation.
“I’m not gonna complain about your mouth around my cock.
” He brushed his nose against mine. “I’ll be counting my blessings.
But I say when that is. And my cock needs to be milked by that soaking pussy.
” His free hand landed on the center of my chest, fingertips grazing my nipples before exerting a not so gentle pressure that sent me backward.
The back of my knees hit my bed, then I fell against the mattress. I let myself be led because of the buzz in my ears, the humming of desire over my own body, and the absolute awe I was overcome with, seeing this version of Elliot emerge.
It was bewildering. Invigorating.
Elliot hovered above me, like a shadow yet like blinding sunshine, even though those two were complete opposites. Because that’s what this man was, sunshine and shadow all in one.
I rested myself on my elbows, taking him in, breathing heavily, deciding whether I was going to protest any of this or not.
“Condom.” The word came from him as an order, not a request.
I’d been staring at his cock, ready for it to fill me up without a second thought. Protection. Unnegotiable, even if the possibility of unplanned pregnancy had been eliminated.
I bristled, realizing that although it was a demand, it was also a question. Elliot had not come prepared to fuck me. There was no ulterior motive for his visit. He didn’t bring a condom, yet he wasn’t going to fuck me without one.
My core pulsated as I gained yet more evidence that Elliot was a noble, respectful man.
My body made to roll to retrieve the condom, but Elliot’s hand on my hip pushed me onto my back. “No. You’re staying right fucking there and I’ll get it.”
My first instinct was to tell him to get fucked and that I’d get it because I didn’t let anyone tell me what to do.
“Bedside table.” I jerked my head, surprising myself by not succumbing to my first instinct.
While Elliot ambled to where I’d nodded, I stared at the ceiling, thinking that condoms—among other things—were what he’d find in there.
I heard the box rustle and foil crinkle. Elliot came back to the foot of the bed where he rolled the condom on with deft, sure hands. Not an act I’d previously considered erotic, but there was Elliot Shaw, proving me wrong about yet another thing.
At this rate, he would convince me the Earth was flat before the night was out.
“We’ll be using those toys at a later date,” he promised me, hooded eyes darting to the bedside table.
“Most men are threatened by them,” I told him honestly, my voice huskier than I’d expected.
“I’m not threatened by anything in this bedroom, Calliope,” Elliot flashed me his teeth. I didn’t miss his double meaning. “And no way in fuck will I be threatened by something that will show me all the ways I can make you scream.”
Cue pussy quiver. Mini orgasm.
Elliot held his cock by its base, stepping forward. “You’re going to spread your legs for me and take it like a good girl.”
My body reveled in the command. On instinct, I did just that, my legs parting before my brain could even catch up. It was only after I’d presented myself to him that I realized it.
Elliot, the blond-haired, easygoing fisherman was a … Dom. Maybe not the whips and chains type—well, not that I could decipher yet—but he most definitely was not easygoing in the bedroom.
And me, not ever, not once in my life had I been interested in submitting. Not outside the bedroom and certainly not in it. Especially since it was Jasper more often than not warming my bed. Submitting to him was dangerous. I always had my guard up with him, even with all of my clothes off.
I opened my mouth, my limbs tightening as I remembered that. Remembered who the fuck I was. I was Calliope Derrick, and no man ordered me around.
“Not a fucking word,” Elliot instructed coolly as he covered my body with his.
“You can spit whatever fire you want with me out there.” He nodded to the door.
“You can call the shots. Doesn’t hurt my manhood.
In fact, it makes me as hard as a goddamn rock.
But in here, I’m in charge, and you’re mine to command.
” He spoke easily, with confidence that I’d obey without hesitation.
Again, all bad things. I should’ve been protesting. Fighting. Not growing more and more overcome with need. With relief that with Elliot, sex wasn’t some power play. My body was already slackening with the sensation that I didn’t have to hold every muscle taut as a defense mechanism.
Although his hard cock was pushing at my entrance, Elliot didn’t seem to be in any rush.
His heated gaze searched my expression before landing on where my lips had parted and my breath was coming in sharp pants.
He brushed his thumb across my lower lip then parted them so he could insert his fingers.
On instinct, I sucked them, grazing them with my teeth to ensure he didn’t forget I could bite too. He released his fingers with a sly and sultry grin, his hips rocking forward a millimeter.
My body shuddered with the sensation, and I tried to buck upward, but he leaned back.
“You haven’t done this before,” he deduced correctly, somehow. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
All of this should’ve killed and buried any and all attraction I felt for the man. Submission wasn’t sexy.
Being taken care of wasn’t sexy.
Unless it was with Elliot Shaw.
Then it was hot as fuck.
My body arched off the bed as he finally rocked his hips forward to fill me up with that perfect cock that did indeed fit inside my pussy like it was custom-made for the space.
My nails scraped against his back, drawing out a satisfied grunt.
He didn’t move once he was fully seated, didn’t give me that feral fucking I was craving so my mind didn’t have to be present, so I didn’t have to admit that this wasn’t just sex.
Elliot was pausing, forcing me to be in the moment, locked into the storm of his gaze.
“You’re safe with me, Calliope Derrick.” His voice was strained, presumably because of the effort it took for him to pause. It was like there was an animal inside him, growling to be unleashed upon me. And I craved that animal. That was familiar.
The promise of safety wasn’t.
Elliot kept me pinned, as if he knew my body was battling pleasure and discomfort over his intimate gaze in the midst of the most intimate act.
“You’ll come when I say.” He leaned down to lay his lips on mine. “Not before.”
“I’ll come when my body wants,” I shot back. “You’re not in control of that.”
Elliot leaned forward and caught my lower lip between his teeth. He held it there before he released it. “We’ll see.” Flashing me a wicked smile, I suppressed a groan at how sexy he looked.
Then his hips pumped. Stars erupted in my vision. My nails dug deeper into his back as he slammed into me with the perfect force, perfect rhythm.
I knew I must’ve been hurting him with my nails, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I wanted to punish him for making me submit so easily. For giving me an example of heaven, of what I’d never truly be able to have.
My body dove headfirst into an orgasm that took me away from Earth, but just as my body tensed, Elliot stopped moving.
The skin surrounding his eyes pulled taut, his forehead shiny with sweat I inexplicably wanted to taste. “Not until I fucking say.”
I roiled against the feral order and the denial of my orgasm. Yet I didn’t buck my hips, I didn’t spit fire. I just glared up at him in fury.
He didn’t smile, but the satisfied glint in his eyes told me my rage amused him. Turned him on. He leaned down to lay his lips against my nipple, cock still inside of me.
I arched my back, spears of pleasure raking through me yet not enough to tip me into an orgasm.
Then Elliot rocked forward. Slowly. Torturing me, watching every contour of my face as he did so.
My nails continued razing his flesh. Surely, I must’ve been drawing blood by then, yet he didn’t even wince.
Once he was bottomed out, I expected more torture. More waiting. Not for him to thrust back-and-forth, my vision blurring.
Finally, my orgasm slammed into me like a tsunami, unable to be stopped. My moans of pleasure mingled with the thunder of Elliot’s release. The waves crashed over me until I was unable to understand which way was up.
It didn’t matter.
For that night, at least, I let myself drown in Elliot Shaw.