Chapter 33
Being in Eleanor’s room was like being surrounded by her.
Her scent saturated Bastian’s nostrils, making his cock twitch in his pants.
Everywhere he looked, he saw parts of her.
Admittedly, it wasn’t much to see at first. There’d been no floor space when they first entered. This room was the worst in the house.
A flash of fury had his mind jumping to Luke, to all the ways he wanted to make that human piece of filth suffer. He pushed that aside, because that wasn’t what Eleanor needed right now, and set about mending broken furniture. Ever so slowly, her room reformed.
He hadn’t meant for things to happen the way they had earlier.
It was his fault. He should’ve mentioned Professor Miller’s family sooner, especially given the way things were changing between them.
Rapidly changing. It’s like everything was slipping out of his control and he was simply dragged along, trying to breathe, trying to function.
Her presence made that almost impossible, made him forget things that mattered, made him want to do nothing but fuck her brains out.
He’d lost control. That scared the shit out of him.
He lifted a photo frame off the floor and fixed the broken glass.
It was of a younger version of her, standing with her arms wrapped around the waist of a middle-aged man.
They shared the same nose, the same eye shape.
“Your father?” he asked, unable to look away.
Her smile was brilliant, happy, blissfully ignorant of the future.
She appeared beside him, brushing a hand down his arm. “Oh, yes. I love that picture. We took it hiking. One of the rare times he pulled himself away from his work. He was a bit…obsessive.”
Bastian chuckled and handed it over. She gazed at it a moment longer before setting it on her dresser. His eyes lingered over her, over the graceful way she carried herself as she went back to the pile of clothes she was sorting.
He helped where he could, fixing anything else broken, then he took a seat on her chaise lounge, continuing to watch.
Every so often, a small frown drew her eyebrows together.
He constantly fought the urge to jump up and press his thumb to the crease, to smooth away whatever worries she wasn’t voicing.
“Did you hike a lot with your father—when he could pull himself away, that is?”
She glanced up, clothing hanging limp in her hand. A strand of pink hair fell into her face and she tucked it behind her ear. Fuck, she was exquisite. His chest pulled tight, knowing she was his—entirely his.
It had never occurred to him—until this very moment—that he could simply sit and watch her like this, in her element, all day without growing bored.
He’d certainly never wanted to do that with anyone else.
Actually it was a wonder she hadn’t noticed how much staring he’d done since yesterday. Since—
His insides went cold. He needed to tell her, especially after what she’d said. He shifted, trying to get comfortable.
He was about to say something when she spoke.
“My dad and I loved hiking together. I haven’t gone at all, actually, since he died.”
“We should go together,” he blurted. “I haven’t been in a while either, but there are a few great places just outside the city.”
“Penrose mountain?”
“Yep, that’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine too,” she breathed, a small smile settling on her lips.
His eyes dropped to her mouth and he cleared his throat. “How about next Saturday?”
“I… Yeah, let’s do it. That would be fun. And we haven’t exactly been on any dates. Not that—I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured about dates, given what you said earlier about—”
“It’s a date. I’d like to go on a date with you, Eleanor.”
He hadn’t meant for her to take his words so personally. His fault, entirely his fault. If she wanted it, he’d become the most hopeless fucking romantic to ever hopelessly romance her. Just for her. All for her.
Her throat bobbed and she nodded. "Perfect. I'd like that."
Her eager response spoke to the primal side of him and drove him to his feet.
He stalked over to her, his fingers all but aching to feel her.
“Now, how about we christen your bed,” he said.
He tilted her head back and pressed his mouth to hers.
The taste of her on his tongue had his glamor flickering.
He’d never had this issue with another, but given what she was to him, it shouldn’t have surprised him.
She mewed, dropping the clothing she’d been folding to reach for him, clinging to his shoulders.
Their kiss turned frantic as his hands splayed over the curve of her ass, pressing her against his hardening cock.
He tried and failed, to stifle a groan at the feel of her.
It had been hours, and yet, her fucking pussy was all he could think about.
He knew this desperate need would ease eventually, but fuck if he could think past wanting her right now.
He reached for the hem of her top, then slid it up, letting his knuckles graze her skin. With their fingers fumbling, it became a race of who could get the other undressed faster. She reached for the button on his jeans. His hips pressed forward, eager.
When she slipped his boxer briefs down over his hips, she moved to her knees. He kicked his clothes away. She wrapped an arm around his thigh, pulling herself close to him, her hard nipples grazing his thighs, sending eager tremors through his muscles.
“Sugar…” he warned. Her gaze darted up to his, open and trusting. The sight of her like this, on her knees for him…
His breath hitched. “Damn, baby girl,” he breathed. “You going to fuck me with that pretty mouth of yours?”
He reached for her, ran his fingers through her silky tresses, letting the waves caress his skin.
“Yes,” she breathed, taking his cock into her warm palm.
Pumping it once, twice. A zing of pleasure shot straight to his balls.
Then her tongue flicked out and teased the slit of his cock, lapping up the precum that pooled there before taking him more fully into her mouth.
A growl built in his chest and his head fell back toward the ceiling.
Every thought in his mind fractured—it was just so fucking good.
His hands tightened in her hair, holding her to him. He used the pads of his fingers to massage at her scalp, rolling his hips against her as she worked him.
“You’re going to kill me,” he bit out. His goblin side roared to the surface, breaking through his glamor, settling over him.
Eleanor’s breath caught, but she didn’t stop.
“I want to own that mouth,” he growled, his voice deepening to a low pitch.
“Want to fucking dominate you.” She whimpered. “What are you doing to me, Eleanor?!”
More—he needed more. Now! Reaching down, he pulled her to her feet. Her mouth came away with a pop, a mischievous smile on her lips. Like she knew exactly how she was driving him mad.
He carried her to her bed and settled beside her.
They lay on their sides, gazing at each other.
Their legs tangled together, one of hers between his, one of his between hers.
His arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close.
He gazed at her, taking in the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat, the rise and fall of her chest, her peaked breasts, perfect dusty pink nipples, the sleek lines of her body, the small tuft of hair above her pussy.
His—entirely his. He lifted his hand to his mouth, biting off the sharp goblin nails on his first two fingers. It was annoying how quickly they grew back. Then reached for her dark curls, running his fingers over the area, sliding down further between her legs until he reached her wet folds.
An ache built in his body.
She moaned and tried to squeeze her legs together.
"Don't fight me, baby girl. Let me claim this.
" He cupped her mound and a whimper fell from her lips.
Obediently, she lifted her leg, keeping the other firmly pressed between his.
The movement put her pussy on display for him.
He swirled his fingers around her opening, working her.
Every touch, every press of his palm, brought a satisfying reaction.
A whimper here, a widening of her eyes, a hitch in her breath.
Her body responded beautifully to his touch, muscles quivering.
He wanted her to come like this, come from his touch alone.
“Bastian,” she gasped, eyes widening. She tightened around his fingers, then her pussy fluttered, spasming as she cried out, eyelids falling closed.
He growled in response, a smile spreading across his lips.
Nothing had ever made him feel so satisfied.
He kept his fingers in place, relishing in the way she milked him, knowing exactly how it felt when she did it to his cock.
Then he leaned forward and kissed one eyelid, and then the other.
“Need your cock,” she breathed. “Please.”
“As if I could deny you,” he scoffed, licking his fingers clean, letting the taste of her send him deeper into a frenzy.
He rolled them over and positioned himself between her legs.
Then he took himself in hand, working his tip into her.
She was more than ready for him. He slid in to the hilt and immediately relaxed.
Tension fled from his body, his muscles loosening.
This was how it should always be, his cock buried deep inside her to relieve the nonstop need.
“You feel so good,” she panted.
“That’s because that tight little pussy was made for me,” he managed, bracing both elbows, then pulling out, slamming back in. Her eyes widened. He did it again, forgetting about his own pleasure and enjoying hers.
Soon his hips were pumping steadily and hers were rising to meet him. Her hands wrapped around his waist, holding onto him while her legs wrapped around his thighs, twining them together. He lowered until their chests were flush, pinning her right where he needed her.
The heat of her skin, the feel of her nipples pressing into him, sent his movements into a frenzy. His balls tightened. He had to slow down or he’d spill himself embarrassingly early.
Her skin was flushed, cheeks pink, eyes bright. “You like when I come inside you, Elle?”
“Ye—yes,” she managed.
“Want me to fill you up, don’t you?”
“Bastian!” she cried. “Are you always this dirty?”
“What’s the matter? Does it make you blush, sweetheart?
” It did. Her skin flushed a darker shade of pink.
A smirk pulled at his lips. “I want to hear you say it.” He slowed to a stop.
Her hands tugged at him to keep going, but he didn’t.
“You want that, don’t you? You want me to fill that pretty pussy to the brim? ”
“Oh, my God. Yes. Yes—just—keep going.”
“I’d rather it be my name on your lips. But… I still want to hear you say it, baby girl.”
A laugh fell from her chest. “Yes, Bastian. I want you to fill me up. I… I like it.” Her lip caught between her teeth, pinned there.
So damn sexy.
He growled. “Good girl. I know you do.” He started again.
Teasing her was the only way to keep from exploding too soon.
But it also drove the primal side of him wild.
Catching her mouth in his, he brought her to orgasm, crying out her name when his flooded through him, spilling every drop of his seed inside her the way he’d promised.
Then he slowed, his kisses turning gentle.
“Don’t think I can ever let you go,” he admitted, voicing his fears, unable to keep them buried. There would be no releasing her. He’d known that, known what would happen if they went this far. His goblin side would never allow it.
But then her next words blindsided him—completely blindsided him.
“You don’t have to,” she managed, her eyelids fluttering open to look at him. Her proclamation made his throat ache. He kissed her more deeply and they stayed on that bed for the rest of the damn afternoon.