5. Ellie
5
ELLIE
Back home, I have a cozy evening routine—fuzzy socks and my favorite sweater, a steaming mug of lemon ginger tea, a soft blanket draped over my lap, and the warm glow of a lilac-scented candle on my coffee table. Before today, I thought that was as good as coziness got.
Oh, how wrong I was.
I’ve been luxuriating in the unparalleled bliss that is cuddling up against Dove. Each time he laughs, I feel the vibration rumble through his broad chest. His scent surrounds me, warm and masculine. The way his arm is slung around me makes me feel like I truly am his girl.
I know this isn’t real. It’s not the start of some fairytale romance. It’s a random connection we stumbled into—a gorgeous but temporary thing that we were lucky enough to find. Soon, we’ll both be back to our regular lives, and eventually, all of this will fade to a distant memory.
At least that’s what I tell myself.
The final scene of the movie wraps up, and the credits roll. People start shifting, stretching cramped limbs, collecting empty wrappers. Someone flips on the lights, and I squint against the sudden brightness.
“Well, that was a ten out of ten,” I say, smiling at Dove.
“Eh, I’d give it a solid eight,” he says. “It needed more explosions.”
I laugh. “Are you kidding? They blew up an entire skyscraper, two helicopters, and a yacht.”
“Exactly. Barely adequate.”
I laugh again and glance around at the dispersing crowd. “So is there an afterparty or something?”
Dove chuckles, shaking his head. “No, everyone’s heading to bed now.”
When our eyes meet, heat floods through me.
“Let me walk you to your room,” he says, his voice low.
My heartbeat quickens as we stand. Dove takes my hand and starts guiding me through the crowded room. His palm covers mine completely, protective and strong.
“Hey, Ellie?”
I turn to see Colton approaching.
“A few of us are having a nightcap,” Colton says. “Care to join? We’ve got a bottle of good whiskey we’ve been saving.”
“No thanks, I’m good,” I say with a polite smile.
Colton’s eyes drop to my hand tucked into Dove’s. A look of defeat flashes across his face before he nods. “Right. Uh, enjoy your night.”
When we’re out in the hallway, Dove mutters, “Jesus. That guy doesn’t know when to quit.”
I laugh at Dove’s grumpiness. “Aw. I feel bad for him. Can’t be easy being stationed out here for months on end.”
“Trust me, don’t waste your sympathy on Colton. He’s tried to hook up with every woman on this station since he arrived.”
“Well, shit,” I scoff, feigning offense. “Now I don’t feel special at all.”
Dove’s hand tightens around mine. “No, you’re special. Very special.”
I bite back a smile. “Go on.”
“You’re talented. You’re fearless. You’re smart and gorgeous and stubborn as hell, and”—he sends a glance my way—“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Damn. My chest tightens with feelings I wasn’t prepared for.
“For the record,” I tell him, my voice light, “you’re not so bad yourself, Callahan.”
We reach my room, and I push the door open.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” Dove asks, glancing into the room.
“No, I’m good.” My heart picks up speed. “But do you want to hang out for a bit?”
The way Dove looks at me, I know he understands exactly what I’m asking. Instead of answering, he moves us into the room, closing the door behind us with a decisive click.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he pushes me against the wall and claims my mouth with his.
The kiss he gives me is hungry and raw. I grab his shirt, pulling him closer. His body is hard against mine, pinning me with masculine force. A deep throb starts between my legs, making me press my thighs together.
He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against my skin.
“You make me so fucking crazy, Ellie,” he growls, the words rough and raw.
His hands grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head in one swift motion. The fabric messes up my hair, adding to the wild feeling coursing through me. Dove stares at me standing there in my bra, his eyes dark with need. The heat in his gaze makes me so damn wet.
His hands move to my jeans next, tugging them down my legs until I’m left in just my underwear. Meanwhile, the bulge in Dove’s pants is huge, straining against the fabric. He runs his palms up my thighs, over my hips, his thumbs pressing into my skin.
“Perfect,” he says, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect. Your curves make me insane.”
He drops to his knees in front of me. He hooks his fingers into my underwear and roughly pulls them down. I kick them aside. He spreads my legs open, lifting one thigh over his shoulder. His breath is hot against me, warming my pussy.
He looks up at me one last time, his eyes holding mine, before he leans in and slowly licks me. My head falls back against the wall. His tongue laps at me hungrily, and then he sucks my swollen clit into his mouth, making me cry out. He moans against me, the vibration sending shocks through my body.
My wetness coats his face as he eats me, his tongue pushing inside me then returning to my clit. He absolutely devours me, the sounds of his mouth on me obscene. It’s wet and hot and so fucking good I can barely stand.
“Jesus, Dove,” I gasp, my fingers tangling in his thick hair.
He slides two big fingers inside me, curling them forward against a spot that makes my vision blur. I’m dripping down his hand now, my body responding to every movement. He works me with purpose, licking and sucking with obvious pleasure.
My hips move against his face. He holds me firmly with his free arm around my waist, fingers digging into my curves as he sucks harder, moves his fingers faster. The pressure builds, a hot need that concentrates where his mouth works me.
When I come, I cry out his name. My body spasms against him, thighs clamping around his head as pleasure tears through me. He keeps going, drawing out my orgasm until I’m pushing at his head, gasping.
I collapse into his arms as he rises to his feet. He carries me to the bed and lays me down. I watch, breathless, as he strips off his shirt. His chest is broad and solid, covered in dark hair that narrows down his stomach. Then he pushes his pants down his legs, freeing his cock. It’s so thick and long, jutting out from a nest of dark hair.
He climbs onto the bed and moves over me, his massive body making the mattress sink. I spread my thighs for him, aching for him to fill me. The head of his cock nudges against me, thick and hard.
He pushes inside slowly. The stretch burns in the best way, a delicious ache that makes me dig my nails into his shoulders. I’m so wet that he slides in without resistance, but the size of him still makes me gasp.
“Fuck, honey. You feel so good,” he grits out. “So tight and hot around me.”
He begins to move, each thrust firm and deep. The friction is intense, every movement sending hot sparks of pleasure through me. I wrap my legs around his waist, taking him deeper.
“You’re so beautiful, Ellie,” he says, watching my face as he fucks me. “I can’t get over it.”
His pace increases, each thrust harder than the last. The bed complains beneath us. I hear the wet sounds of our bodies meeting, his grunts of pleasure with each thrust, my own uncontrolled moans. A new wave of pleasure builds inside me, more intense this time.
“I’m going to come again,” I pant.
“Good girl,” he says, his face tight with restraint. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you.”
He hits a spot inside me that makes me see stars. Another orgasm slams through me, my pussy clamping down on his cock as pleasure pulses through me in hot waves.
He fucks me through it, drawing out the pleasure. But then his rhythm starts to grow ragged, his control slipping. Sweat gleams on his chest and forehead.
“You can come inside me,” I say breathlessly, desperate to feel him let go. “It’s safe.”
His restraint snaps. He drives into me with rough, uncontrolled thrusts, groaning with each one. I come again as I feel the explosion of his release, a rush of cum filling me.
“Fuck,” Dove hisses, his cock pulsing and spilling every last drop.
Afterward, he stays inside me as we catch our breath. I’m stunned, feeling blissful in every possible way. His weight on me feels so right, so perfect.
Our breathing gradually slows, our sweat-slick bodies cooling. Dove shifts his weight, rolling onto his side but keeping me tucked against him, one large hand splayed on my hip.
I laugh, a soft sound of pure joy.
“What’s so funny?” Dove asks, still catching his breath.
“Nothing,” I say. “I just feel incredible.”
He laughs too, his chest rumbling against me. “Yeah. I’ve never felt like this before.”
We lie in silence for a moment, my head on his chest, his arm around me. The reality of our situation tries to creep in, but I push it away, wanting to stay in this moment.
Until I can’t ignore it any longer.
“I wish I didn’t have to leave,” I say quietly.
“Then don’t,” he says simply.
I laugh, playing along. “Sure. I’ll just move into this tiny room. Maybe they’ll let me be the station photographer.”
He smiles, but then his expression shifts, becomes more serious. His fingers trace patterns on my bare shoulder.
“That wasn’t just meaningless sex to me,” he says. “I have real feelings for you, Ellie.”
My heart races. “It wasn’t meaningless to me either. But I can’t stay.”
“I know.”
“So where does that leave us?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. “But I know I’m not going to stop thinking about you when you leave.”
I feel the impossibility of our situation pressing in on us. How the hell could this ever work for real?
“I really wish I didn’t have to go,” I say again.
Dove shifts to look at me. “What if you talked to your editor? Asked for an extension to get that aurora shot you wanted?”
I know it probably won’t work. The magazine has deadlines, budgets. But looking into Dove’s eyes, I’m willing to try anything.
“I can try,” I say. “I really, really do want that aurora shot.”
“I want you to get it too,” he says. “I know how much it means to you.”
I almost can’t believe how sweet this man is. I tilt my chin up and kiss him, slow and deep. His muscled arms tighten around me, and he pulls me on top of him, settling me onto his lap. I feel him harden again, his thick cock pressing against me. He guides me down onto him, sliding into me again and filling me in the most delicious way.
I moan and begin to move, riding him slowly, savoring every sensation. This time it’s different—unhurried, more sensual. Dove moans my name and I feel it deep, so deep, in my chest. I should know better than this, letting real feelings get involved. It’s surely a recipe for the worst kind of heartache.
But I can't bring myself to stop.