Chapter 8 Stella
STELLA
“Eli!” I gasp as his tongue licks up and down the line of my neck. I swear his togue is making nerve ends I didn’t know existed come to life.
My legs squeeze together, and he makes a deep sound. One that vibrates against my skin and has me opening my thighs. He murmurs his approval as his hands travel southbound and take hold of the frilly material of the dress I’m wearing.
“You wear this for me, Stella baby? You wear this to tempt me? To teach you a lesson, beautiful?”
“Eli.” I can’t seem to say anything more than his name. My brain can’t seem to stitch two words together. But he doesn’t need me to. The tips of his fingers move beneath the skirt of my dress, and I open my legs wider.
For him.
“Yeah, my girl wore this for me.” His fingertips lightly graze my thighs, and he’s just about to reach exactly where I want him to touch me.
“I’m gonna teach you so much, baby. Together, we’re gonna learn what gets this little virgin pussy off.” His dark promises are a vow I want him to follow through.
I want to be his.
I want him to take my virginity. Claim me. I know how barbaric it sounds, but there is no other word for what I want him to do to me. Just as the pads of his fingers skim the gusset of my panties, a loud knock sounds, and I wake up. My heart beats, and I place my hand over it as I look around.
I’m at the cabin, and I’ve been dreaming. Dirty dreaming. Wow.
Then it dawns on me. Shit! I fell asleep!
I finished everything I needed to do and sat down for a moment before getting ready for our date but must have drifted off to sleep. The last thing I remember is thinking how I love the throw pillow smelling like Eli.
“Crap.” I look at my cell phone next to me and wince.
Two missed calls from Camila and three texts from Eli.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I mutter to myself, suddenly in a rush. I jump up and rush to the front door and open it, totally unprepared for the sight of Eli Woodman standing there.
Dressed for a date.
With me.
He stands tall, dressed in a black dress shirt and matching slacks. The whole outfit freshly pressed or dry cleaned, he looks flawless. His hair is down, past his shoulders, and I wonder, not for the first time, what it would be like to run my fingers through his wavy tresses.
“Hey.” He smiles, looking me up and down. I swallow, look down at myself, and try not to wince.
“Sorry! I fell asleep.”
“It’s okay.” He grabs my hand, and as I stare at him, I relax a little. He really is okay with me not being ready. “Do you wanna resched—"
“No.” I don’t even let him finish talking. How he looks as good as he does after working all day? I have no idea. “I’ll be thirty minutes, tops.”
“Stella.” He grabs my wrist before I can run into my bedroom and pulls me in closer. “You’re tired.”
“I was. I sat down and—" I sigh because I don’t want him to think I’m not interested. I’m very interested. My cheeks redden as I start to think about the dream I just had.
“What is it?”
“What? What do you mean?” I stammer. Can he tell I’d been having a sex dream about him? With him? That I asked him to claim me and take my virginity?
“You’re flushed.” His eyes dip from mine to my face, and my hands touch my face. It’s hot to the touch. I’m not surprised. The dream I was having was hot. But I can’t tell him that. I try to shrug it off or try to, at least, while playing it cool.
“I’m just tired.”
“If you don’t feel well—" he starts, pulling me into his arms instead of pushing me away.
“If I weren’t well, you really shouldn’t hug me,” I note, and his lips, god, up close like this, I love the shape of his lips.
His top one is a little thinner than the bottom one. Barly peeking through the full but neatly trimmed beard. Looking at his mouth reminds me of that kiss last night and makes me ache for more. Just like the all-too-real dream I just woke up from.
“Germs,” I blurt out, and his fight to hold back his grin is lost. I swear I never understood the term of basking in someone’s beauty, but right there and then, I get it.
“If I were sick, you should be worried about germs and not getting all close, because, you know… you wouldn’t want to get those, umm, germs.”
“You’re really freaking cute when you’re nervous, you know?”
“I’m not nervous,” I whisper.
“What were you dreaming about?” he asks. His eyes dip to my lips, and I swear my mouth goes bone dry.
“Nada. I mean nothing. I wasn’t dreaming at all. I was just, umm… totally knocked out,” I lie, and I know he knows it too. That only makes me blush further.
“You sure you’re up for hanging? If not, I can order takeout and—"
“I’m sure. You’re dressed so nice and you planned out a date. Please. Just wait for me,” I plead, loving the way his eyes soften the way they do when he looks at me.
“I’d wait forever for you, baby.” Baby. That little term of endearment is sweet, and the more I hear it from his mouth, the more I like it. He kisses my forehead. His lips linger, and my breath hitches. I look up at him. His eyes meet mine head on.
“Stella,” he warns, and I shiver. My skin rises with goose bumps.
“Eli…”
“What is it, baby?” he asks as his head starts to drop slowly to be in front of mine.
“Eli, can, umm…” How do women do this? Just ask for what they want, or better yet, take it? Why am I the one who is clueless at twenty-five?
“What is it, baby?”
“Can you kiss me?” I ask quickly. The hand he has on my waist digs in. But I don’t feel self-conscious about him feeling my softness or love handles. If anything, I feel sexy. Needed. Wanted.
His breathing is labored, and he grunts as his lips drop to mine and they touch for a quick moment before he pulls away. I look at him. Confused and unsteady. Maybe it’s a combination of waking up abruptly after that dream and seeing the man in front of me, but a thought washes over me.
Why can’t I take what I want for once? Something in me, my control, breaks. Without a second thought, I move into him, my hands on his shoulders, and pull him toward me. He moves and gives me exactly what I want. Something deep inside me, under my skin and in my heart, knows he always will.
His hand cups the back of my head, and we kiss.
This time, it’s not sweet and tender, nor gentle.
It’s rough and passionate. Hungry. Teeth scrape, hands paw at one another.
I have no idea how, but I find myself undoing the buttons of his shirt, and when I get to the third to last one, his hand covers my wrist. Our eyes lock, and I still completely.
His dark eyes smolder with an intense focus as his chest heaves shallowly.
“I want this more than you know,” he says, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But I won’t be rushed. Not the first time especially, not only because it’s your first time but ours together.”
“Eli,” I whisper a plea. I feel like my entire body is on fire and almost shaking with this need. A need I know he’ll take care of.
His hand directs mine lower, moving down the rock-hard planes of his chest, down to his abs that flex and contract at my touch.
He doesn’t stop until my hand is there. Right over a very hard bulge that seems like a snake coiled up and waiting to be freed.
I swallow hard. Because I might be a total and utter newbie at all of this, but even I know he is a lot bigger than your average Joe.
“You feel that?” he asks darkly. “Feel how you get me on edge, Stella?”
“El—"
“This is all for you. You did this. I haven’t felt like this about a woman. Ever. Not once in my life. Only you.”
“Honey—”
“It’s like my eyes locked onto you and my heart knew.” My hand strokes the length of him beneath all the layers of clothes, and his eyes shut. “I’m hanging on by a thread here, Stella,” his voice rasps in the most exquisite ways. “My control’s shaky at best when it comes to you, sweetheart.”.
“I want everything with you,” I admit quietly, and when his eyes open, I see it. Everything he feels matching what I do. I can’t even try to talk myself out of it either. There is no way. Not when what I feel is so pure and real. The realest thing I’ve ever felt.
I still can’t believe I’ve been in Moonlit Pines for less than forty-eight hours, and here I am, halfway in love with Eli Woodman. A man I didn’t even know walked the earth until yesterday.
“I can take care of the ache, baby girl.” His offer makes my pussy pulse.
I’m throbbing for release. I’m a virgin, but I know how to take care of myself.
His forehead rests against mine, and I breathe him in as deeply as I can manage in that moment.
The scents of his shampoo and cologne mix and swirl, making me feel almost drunk.
“Eli…”
“I need you to be sure. I touch you, get you off, watch the beauty that will inevitably bring, there won’t be any turning back.” His gaze heats up, and I think like I can almost feel his thoughts.
We both know we’re past the point of no return.
I’m going to let Eli Woodman have me.
He’s going to be my first.
“I’ll wait,” I whisper, breathing in, trying to calm my heart and tamper down the heat that seems to be cloaking me from head to foot. “I want to come with you.” I think out loud, and a deep sound vibrates through his massive chest.
“You’re gonna fucking kill me, baby.”
“That wouldn’t be fun,” I tease with a small smile playing on my lips before I step back. He lets me go. I feel his eyes on me the entire time I walk into my bedroom.
For some crazy reason, I leave the door open. I’m not the kind of woman who knows how to be seductive or even know how to flirt, but there is something about knowing he’s watching me that makes me feel… powerful.
Sexy.
Feminine.
I move around my room grabbing clothes from the closet, and with my back to the door, I start taking off my clothes.
I peek over my shoulder and can see his towering form still standing in my living room.
I can’t make out his face completely since the hallway light is off, but I like his eyes on me.
Something about it feels erotic and intimate.
I like him watching me.
No, I love it.
I turn completely, and something comes over me as I watch him, those amber eyes lock with mine. I reach behind me and watch as his body goes stock still. I might be a virgin, but even I know I’m playing with fire, teasing a man like Eli this way.
He wants to be sweet and a gentleman, planning out how to wine and dine me. And I adore that. But I’ve been good my entire life.
And with Eli, it turns out I’m ready to be oh so bad.