Chapter 16 #2
He leaned over to the side, opening the drawer in the bedside table. He rustled around for a minute and came back with an unopened condom in his hand. That broke through the haze just enough for me to ask, “You were planning this?”
The barest edge of a chill hit the lust running through me until Eli’s mouth quirked up as he tore open the wrapper.
“Standard in the safe houses. People get locked in, they get a little restless.”
I grinned back. I wasn’t sure how I would have felt if Eli had brought the condoms, but better safe than sorry, and it was kind of flattering. I should have thought of that if I was going to barge into his room and throw myself at him, so I couldn’t be annoyed. Safety first.
“Is that what this is? Restlessness?” I asked, my eyes glued to the condom he rolled down his length, so close to getting exactly what I wanted.
“No,” Eli said. “I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you.
” He ran a finger along my lower lip. “This fucking mouth, Sylvie. I’ve been wondering what you taste like.
Wondering a lot of things,” he said. He sat back, ran his hands up the insides of my thighs, and tugged my pajama bottoms and underwear down my legs, nudging them apart.
His thumb traced my core, sliding around my clit, and I shivered.
“Eli,” I breathed, “such a tease.”
He dipped one finger in. “You’re fucking wet, Sylvie. Slick and hot.” He pushed another finger in and pumped, the heel of his palm firm on my clit, sending shudders of pleasure up my spine. I rocked my hips, taking more. I could tease, too.
That was all it took. He slid his fingers out and shifted, coming down over me, an elbow on either side of my torso, his face an inch from mine.
I reached between us, raising my knees to clamp to his sides, positioning him exactly where I wanted him.
I was prepared to beg, but he didn’t make me, nudging me open.
The stretch of him filling me sent shards of pleasure spiking in my brain. My eyes slid shut, and all I could do was feel—the heat of him around me, inside me. We moved together like we’d done this a thousand times.
“Eli, Eli,” I said his name in time to his movements, like a chant, words tangled in my brain in a haze of pleasure.
“You feel so good,” he whispered in my ear. “I knew it would be like this.”
I hooked my ankles behind his back, tilting just a little more until he hit a spot inside, and it felt like every cell in my body exploded.
I think I screamed. I didn’t remember what I said.
Maybe nothing at all. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t an orgasm, that was a metamorphosis—every nerve ending in my body remade by Eli.
My arms came around his shoulders, and I curled up, closing my mouth over the side of his neck, needing every point of us connected. My moans muffled as he thrust, driving the orgasm higher, longer, until I couldn’t breathe. I just held on until he went stiff in my arms and groaned my name.
We collapsed, Eli half on top of me, both of us breathing hard.
I couldn’t open my eyes. For a good minute or two, I just focused on getting some oxygen to my brain, savoring the weight of him—his leg across mine, his arm pinning me down.
Then, before I’d managed to crack an eye open, he pulled himself off me, his mouth trailing my shoulder.
“Don’t move,” he said.
He disappeared into the bathroom. Water ran, and he came back.
I cracked an eye to see the condom gone.
His cock was only half hard, but it was enough to spark another flare of interest in my exhausted body.
Anything that good was worth a repeat. Or a hundred.
I remembered what he said—if he had me, he wouldn’t let me go.
Sex talk. Of course it was. But I didn’t think I’d argue.
Because we were definitely doing that again.
He slipped into the bed beside me, sliding a wet, warm washcloth up my inner thigh, moving it gently between my legs.
Unexpectedly, moisture pricked my eyes. I’d had boyfriends—short-term, long-term.
A one-night stand or two when I was younger.
I’d had good sex and mediocre sex. I couldn’t remember anyone ever taking care of me after. Not like this.
He lay on his side next to me, and I rolled, hooking a leg over his hip, and leaned up to kiss him. “I think I can sleep now,” I said when we pulled apart.
“Good.” He grinned at me, sliding my hair off my cheek, “because I was lying here wondering how I was going to manage to sleep when all I could think about was that kiss.”
“You want me to go back to my room?” I asked, then felt a surge of unease at the thought that he might say yes.
I’d never had a thing about sleeping with someone after sex.
More than once, I’d been the one to give a lover the boot.
Always nicely, but still, sometimes a girl just needed her space.
I didn’t want space right now. And when Eli slid an arm under my shoulders and pulled me on top of him, stroking a hand down my back, I settled.
“Not unless you want to,” he said. “I like you right here.”
“Me too.” I nuzzled my forehead against his neck, loving the way his hand stroked my hip, his cock still half hard against my thigh. I let out a long breath. “Feel free to wake me up in the middle of the night,” I murmured, “if you, you know, can’t sleep.”
Lips grazed my forehead. That was all I remembered until I woke hours later, sprawled half on my side, Eli wrapped around me. A clock on the bedside table told me it was eleven minutes after six—right around when my alarm would normally go off.
I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to stay exactly where I was for, oh, the rest of forever. Or as long as the box of condoms in the bedside drawer lasted. I wondered if Sinclair Security stocked the value size or the regular.
I’d find out later. For now, it was time to get out of bed and face real life.