Chapter 10
Bonnie
With a cocky grin, I spun on my heel. Elijah could try, but there was no way he’d break down a hotel apartment door.
I was almost certain.
Running from him, again, had given me breathing space to take in the bedroom. The huge bed was on a raised platform and had a mound of pillows and sumptuous-looking cream bedding. The expensive type with a band of satin around the edge.
To one side was what appeared to be a dressing room, and an en suite waited on the other. Tasteful low lighting. Everything pristine. My mind boggled over what all the other rooms I’d passed must’ve contained, but that was tomorrow’s explore. I was happy in my pretty little cage for now.
The bed faced an incredible view, and I crossed the marble to take in the city.
Sparkling lights from high up had never looked so good.
The place Genie and I shared was a couple of miles away on the wrong side of the tracks.
If she was here, she’d flip out at how Elijah could afford to stay somewhere like this.
My smirk faded. It wasn’t for a woman like me. Even if I could play pretend for a month with a rich man. A very hot, too-attractive…
“That view has nothing on you.”
I whipped around.
Elijah entered from the bathroom doorway, the champagne bottle held loosely in his fingers and a shit-eating grin on his face. I gaped at him. Why hadn’t I thought to check if it had two doors?
“Twice tonight you’ve run from me. It makes me…”
I leaned in. “What?”
He rolled one bulky shoulder. Then he lurched for me. Too slow, I couldn’t get away, and he caught my wrist. Laughing softly, the bastard drew me down onto a chaise longue by the window and forced my legs apart.
Or they fell open.
He took a swig of the fizzy wine then ducked to spit it between my legs, the bubbles fizzing on my sensitive skin. Mindless, I moaned. Maybe even bucked. Elijah smiled and took another long drink, holding my gaze until I watched him drizzle it over my pussy. Soaking me. Soaking the furniture.
He repeated it but this time held his mouth over my clit to maximise the effect. I dug my fingers into his hair, grinding into that delicious touch.
What was it about him that I’d let him do anything to me?
“Such a waste of expensive wine.”
He smirked and raised his head. “I can’t think of a better use.” Jumping up, he walked away. “Need to take a shower. Come and join me.”
Elijah disappeared back into the bathroom, and the sound of running water preceded a hint of steam.
When he returned, he crooked a finger.
Sprawled still on the chaise beside the window, I exhaled pure need, my pulse hammering. “I didn’t agree to a shower.”
“You didn’t disagree.” He strolled over with that slow, deliberate prowl that did dangerous things to my insides. Then Elijah braced a hand on the glass near my head, his body caging mine without touching.
“Wash the blood off me,” he murmured.
My gaze sank to his chest and the red mark I’d inflicted.
Heat coiled low in my belly.
Fuck it. I’d wanted this. I’d signed up to the game and pictured a wild and crazy month of sex. If Elijah kept his mouth shut, I could have what I wanted.
I swore and ducked under his arm, catching his hand at the last second to lead him with me. The bathroom was obscene. Marble everywhere, a rainfall showerhead big enough to drench an army, stacks of towels plush enough I could’ve comfortably made a nest and slept in them.
I stepped inside the glass enclosure and under the hot water. It sluiced down the t-shirt I hadn’t taken off, soaking the material so I shivered at the sudden heat, goosebumps breaking over my skin.
Elijah hung back and watched me. God. The man had no business being that built. His body was a study in hard lines and carved muscle. Almost like he had a physical job and not a desk one. Perhaps he swam in piles of cash, and that was why he was so fit.
He stripped his jeans.
His cock sprang free. Huge. Thick. Demanding I touch it when he closed in on me. Water streaked down his torso, tracing the ink, the bruises already forming from the fight. His lip was cut. His jaw shadowed with stubble. He looked raw, dangerous, alive.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
The command in his voice slid straight through me. I hated that my body obeyed before my pride could object.
I gave him my back, and Elijah’s arms came around me, grazing down my arms then to my hips. His warmth hit me even through the shower water, and I shivered.
He kissed my cheek. “Fast or slow?”
My eyes shuttered closed. If I didn’t come soon, I’d die. “Fast.”
Elijah took hold of the black t-shirt covering me. Abruptly, he tore it in two, the material ripping up my body and exposing me. I gasped. Elijah swore and tugged the ruined material off me, then just as quick, bound my hands in front of me with it.
I wrestled against him. “Hey!”
He kicked my feet wider, crowded me to the wall, then took his dick to my entrance. “You ran from me. Can’t blame me for wanting control of you. Take me.”
He thrust into me. I cried out, my heart pounding at the rush, and my body accepting him. I shouldn’t like any part of this, but I really did.
Elijah’s groan matched mine, then he set off with a punishing pace. He gave me exactly what I wanted, a slamming of his body into mine. Stretching and filling me while I could do nothing but accept him. And succumb to the pleasure.
It was like he had a shortcut to my pleasure centres. He hit the right places inside me over and over, until I wound up so tight, I knew nothing but him. This stranger who’d wanted me so badly, he’d done everything to get me. Into his apartment. In his shower.
Damn, but that possessive thought thrilled me as much as what he was doing to my body. His fingers dug into my hips, his dick speared me open.
Elijah pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of my neck. His fingers left my hip to graze up my thigh then to my belly. He palmed me there and pressed in, the effect intensifying what he was doing to my insides.
I needed him to touch me between the legs. One graze over my clit and I would fall. But he didn’t.
“Please,” I released on a breath.
Another kiss, this time to my jaw, was my answer. Inside me, he thickened, and my body answered with a squeeze. The first sign of an approaching climax I knew was going to end me.
But I couldn’t come without his fingers to my clit. It had never happened. It wasn’t possible. Yet the bastard drifted his fingers only slightly lower, keeping up the pressure with his touch. Somehow, it was intensifying every feeling. The weight on my lower belly. The way he fucked me.
“Elijah,” I warned.
“I know. I’ve got you.” Except he didn’t, even if he kept the same pace.
I was so close, it almost hurt. Hanging over a ledge made of anticipation and need. He continued to stoke the flames, torturing me with his dick, the way he held me stopping me from moving my bound hands to where I could finish the job myself.
I growled out frustration. He answered with a series of thrusts that had me seeing stars.
Then galaxies. Without warning, my climax caught alight, and I fell into a stunning orgasm that blinded me with the brilliance of it.
I squeezed around him and keened out, my eyes closed and mouth open in shock.
“Fuuuck.” Elijah clutched me harder and fucked into me a few more times before stalling and holding himself hard inside. His release came right behind mine.
Fast, just as he’d promised.
For a long moment, he held me, shaking in the heat, breathing hard.
At last, at last, he drove his fingers down to where we were joined. I shuddered at his touch on my clit. At my entrance where he pulled out and the shower water rinsed away our combined wetness. I let him play. With my hands tied, I had no choice.
My eyes stayed closed as a cap popped, then sure fingers washed me. Thoroughly.
With low tones, he said, “Clean the injury you left on me.”
Elijah released my hands, and I slowly turned, peering up at him. His dark-eyed gaze held mine. In his hand was a washcloth, and I took it then tore my focus to the mark on his chest. The shower had rinsed away the blood, but I dabbed at the edges of it to make sure it was clean.
“Good girl,” he praised me.
I wasn’t, but when he bundled us both into white towels, I couldn’t protest. The events of the evening caught up with me, and my adrenaline rush had peaked with my orgasm. I drooped against him, and Elijah collected me in his arms and carried me to the bedroom.
On the big bed, I managed a protest about my hair being wet. I couldn’t sleep like that. It would soak sheets and dry a mess.
“I’ve got you.”
From the walk-in wardrobe, he brought a hairdryer and brush, using them on me like I was a doll. Drying my hair and brushing it out, whispering more words of praise on how pretty I was. How he loved the golden lengths he took care over.
I let him. All my fight was gone, at least for the night. I’d never known aftercare like this tenderness, and it quietened the independent streak I lived by.
None of my own possessions were here yet. The organisers of the game would send them over at some point. So I curled up into the sheets, naked with a man I barely knew. My sleep was filled with images of him.