Chapter 8 - Eli
This is fucking happening.
After six years of isolation, of not even talking to women for more than a few sentences, I'm actually fucking someone. In my bed. And we're both loving it.
I'm giving away a piece of myself that's been buried for so long, locked away where no one could touch it. And she's doing the same. I can feel it in the way she looks at me, in the way she moves, in the way she says my name.
And now she wants to ride me.
Goddamn if I don't want that too.
I pull out slowly, both of us groaning at the loss, and we exchange positions. I lie back on the bed, hands beside me, and watch as she straddles me.
She starts slowly, just rocking back and forth, getting used to the angle. Then she really starts bouncing on my cock, and I have to grab her ass with both hands to help her move. Her moans are like a siren's song, pulling me deeper, making me lose whatever control I have left.
Watching her now feels like a fever dream. Her hair is covering half her face, falling in waves around her shoulders. Her eyes are half-lidded, glazed with pleasure. Her mouth is wide open, soft sounds escaping with every bounce. Sweat is trickling down between her perfect tits.
I'm loving every second of this, but I want her closer. Need her closer.
I place a hand on her back and pull her down to me. She comes willingly, lying on top of me, her breasts pressed against my chest, her face inches from mine.
"I'm about to fuck you like you deserve," I whisper against her ear.
She shivers. "Go for it."
I start thrusting up into her, using all my strength, all the power in my hips and thighs. My hands are wrapped tight around her, holding her in place as I fuck her with everything I have.
And she takes it all with a smile on her face, even pleading for more.
"Don't stop, Eli. Please don't stop. More. I need more."
She's never satisfied, and I fucking love it. It pushes me to go harder, faster, deeper. To give her everything she's asking for and then some.
"Fuck, I'm close," she gasps against my neck. "So close."
I don't change a thing. Keep the same pace, the same angle, the same rhythm. That's what she needs. Consistency right now, not variation. It doesn't take more than a few thrusts before her eyes roll back and she comes hard, her whole body going rigid on top of me.
Her pussy clenches around my cock like a vice, pulsing, squeezing, and I can feel every contraction. It's pushing me right to the edge.
"Jade," I grit out. "I'm about to—fuck, I'm going to come."
"Don't stop," she says immediately, her voice breathless and desperate. "Please don't stop fucking me. I need it. All of it. I want your whole load inside me."
Fuck.
She's insane. Absolutely insane.
And I know I should be more responsible. Should pull out. Should ask about birth control or protection or any of the other things that rational people think about.
But how could I say no when I want it just as badly? When the thought of filling her up, marking her from the inside, makes me harder than I've ever been?
If she wants my load, she's getting it.
I fuck her faster, harder, my hips thrusting into her until I can't hold back anymore. Until the pressure builds to a breaking point and I explode. I don't just shoot one load. I shoot three. Three big, thick loads deep inside her pussy, filling her until I can feel it leaking out around my cock.
"Fuck," I groan, my whole body shaking with the force of it. "Fuck, Jade."
She's moaning too, her pussy still clenching around me like she's trying to milk every last drop. Her face is buried in my neck, her breath hot against my skin.
I keep fucking her through it, making sure she gets every last drop. Slow, deep thrusts that push my cum deeper inside her, that make her whimper and cling to me tighter.
Only when I'm sure there's nothing more, when I'm completely spent and my cock is starting to soften, do I finally pull out.
She starts to get up immediately, one hand between her legs. "I can feel your cum trickling down. I'm going to dirty the bed—"
I grab her wrist, pulling her back down beside me. "I don't care."
She blinks at me, surprised. "Eli—"
"Right now, I just want you by my side."
A smile spreads across her face, soft and warm and genuine. "You've changed a lot from the man who wanted everything but to have me close."
"A decent man knows when he's wrong," I say.
She laughs, and the sound fills the quiet bedroom in a way that makes my chest feel tight. Then she settles back down beside me, and we naturally fall into position: limbs intertwined, her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulders.
It's been so long since I've held someone like this. Since I've wanted to.
We lie there in silence for a while, both of us catching our breath. The rain has stopped completely now. I can hear birds outside, the normal sounds of the forest coming back to life.
"Can I ask you something?" she says eventually, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest.
Here we go. More questions. But somehow, I don't mind as much as I should.
"Yeah."
"When was your last relationship?"
I'm quiet for a moment, thinking about Sarah. About how that ended. "Seven years ago. Right after I came back from my last tour."
"What happened?"
"She tried. I'll give her that." I stare up at the ceiling, at the wooden beams. "She waited for me while I was deployed. Wrote letters. Sent care packages. All the things you're supposed to do. But when I came back, I wasn't the same person who left."
Jade's hand stills on my chest. "PTSD?"
"Yeah. Nightmares, hypervigilance, the whole package. She tried to help, tried to be patient, but eventually—" I pause. "Eventually she realized I wasn't going to go back to being who I was. And she couldn't love who I'd become."
"I'm sorry," Jade says softly.
"Don't be. She made the right call. I wasn't good for her. Wasn't good for anyone."
"And you still believe that? That you're not good for anyone?"
I look down at her. Her blue eyes are serious, searching mine.
"I don't know what I believe anymore," I admit. "A week ago, I would've said yes. Absolutely. But now—"
"Now?"
"Now you're here. And I'm trying to figure out what the hell that means."
She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow so she can look at me properly. "What do you want it to mean?"
That's the question, isn't it?
"I don't know," I say honestly. "I haven't thought beyond today. Beyond this."
"Okay. So, let's start there." She's still tracing patterns on my chest, and it's distracting in the best way. "Do you want me to leave? Pretend this didn't happen?"
"No."
The word comes out faster than I intended, more certain.
"Do you want to see me again? After today?"
"Yes."
"Do you want this to be just sex, or something more?"
I'm quiet for a long moment, really thinking about it. Because this is where it gets complicated. Where I have to decide if I'm willing to risk this, risk her, risk the isolation I've built.
"What do you want?" I ask instead.
She smiles slightly. "I asked first."
"Jade—"
"I want something more," she says, not letting me deflect.
"I like you, Eli. I know we barely know each other.
I know you've got walls a mile high and I've got my own shit I'm dealing with.
But I like you. I like the way you are with Ridge.
I like that you taught me how to cook eggs.
I like that you opened up to me, even when it was hard.
And I really, really like the way you just fucked me. "
I almost smile at that last part.
"So yeah," she continues. "I want something more. If you're willing to try."
I look at her, at the hope in her eyes, at the vulnerability she's showing me. At the fact that she's lying here naked in my bed, covered in sweat and my cum, asking me for more than just this moment.
And I realize I want it too.
I want to wake up with her in my bed. Want to teach her more than just how to cook eggs. Want to hear her laugh in this cabin that's been too quiet for too long. Want to see where this goes, even though it terrifies me.
"I'm not easy," I warn her. "I've got bad days. Days where I can't be around people, where I need the quiet. Days where the nightmares are bad enough that I don't sleep at all."
"Okay."
"I'm not good at talking about my feelings. I'm going to shut down sometimes, and you're going to have to push."
"I can do that."
"And I don't know how to do this. How to be in a relationship. It's been so long, and I—"
She puts a finger over my lips, silencing me.
"Eli. I'm not asking you to be perfect. I'm asking you to try." She leans down and kisses me softly. "Can you do that?"
Can I?
Can I risk this? Risk her? Risk the possibility that I might actually be happy for once?
I think about the last six years. The isolation. The loneliness I pretended I didn't feel. The conviction that I was better off alone, that everyone was safer if I kept my distance.
And then I think about the last few hours. The way she made me laugh. The way she listened when I talked about my men. The way she feels in my arms right now.
Maybe I've been wrong about everything.
"Yeah," I say finally. "I can try."
Her smile is brilliant, lighting up her whole face. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."
"What about your house?"
"My house can wait." She settles back down against my chest. "Right now, I just want to stay here."
"In my bed?"
"In your bed. In your arms. Wherever you'll have me."
I tighten my arm around her, pulling her closer. "I'll have you right here."
"Good. But… What happens now?" she asks.
"Now? Now we figure it out as we go."
"No plan?"
"I gave up on plans a long time ago. They never work out the way you think."
"Fair enough." She yawns, snuggling deeper into my side. "Can I stay tonight?"
I look at the window. It's late afternoon now, the sun starting to dip lower. "The road's probably clear by now."
"That's not what I asked."
I'm quiet for a moment. Then I say, "Yeah. You can stay."
"Good." She kisses my chest, right over one of my scars. "Because I wasn't planning on leaving anyway."
And for the first time in six years, the thought of someone staying doesn't make me want to run.
It makes me want to hold on tighter.