Chapter Twelve #3
The nonchalance in her voice had me clenching my jaw; something ugly and unwelcoming burned in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t like it.”
She pulled the small shirt over her head. “That’s something you’ll have to sort out with yourself.”
I was above her in an instant, her naked body beneath me as I held her chin, my gaze holding hers as I settled into my place. Between her thighs. “We’ll discuss this later; for now, shut up.”
Her brows snapped down in a frown. “Don’t tell me to shut up—”
I kissed her words back down her throat, and she forcefully broke away with my lip in her teeth. A sharp pain pinned my bottom lip; I ran my tongue over the area, tasting blood.
My gaze locked with hers, a challenge in those eyes, mocking me, asking what I would do to beat that.
“You love testing me,” I said.
“You forget your boundaries—”
My hand closed around her throat, and I slammed her head back down to the pillow, a choking laugh leaving her. “Feisty,” she taunted.
My cock brushed her core, and she hissed. Her eyes filled with lust and thrill; she loved this, loved my control even when she wanted papers that proved she was in control at all times.
“What,” she continued, taunting, “are you all—”
I slapped the pad of my fingers softly against her left cheek, very close to her mouth; her head turned to the side at the impact, clearly not expecting that reaction.
With my hold on her neck, I turned her head back until she looked into my eyes, those browns now filled with a new kind of interest.
My thumb grazed her cheek to below her chin, tightening my hold a bit before bringing my face and lips closer to hers as I asked, “Can’t breathe?”
A smirk. “We both know I can have you on your back in a second, so don’t—”
I thrust into her.
“Fu—”
I closed my lips around hers, stopping her loud moan before it could come out; as much as my being hungered to hear it, I knew we had to be quiet.
But … God.
Her slick, wet, tight heat hugged my length in a vise grip that had my fucking head spinning with desperation. Need—a craving about to be satisfied but with an intense longing to prolong it.
This feeling. This addiction. This obsession.
It would be my doom. My unraveling. I wanted it. I wanted all of it. I wanted her total consumption.
I broke away from her lips.
A breathy moan left her; it was ragged, loud.
“You need to be quiet, querida.”
If ecstasy were a face, it would be hers; she defined the word perfectly, as I knew she would. My woman was capable of anything, and I was proud.
I drew back from her and thrust back in.
“Elio—”
“Shh, quiet,” I whispered against her lips, my eyes locking with hers as I drew out and pushed back in, brutal, unforgiving.
Her moan died in her throat, a strained sound as she dug her fingers into my biceps, not taking her eyes off me as her teeth pressed down on her bottom lip.
“That’s good,” I told her, pulling out and slamming back in, her throbbing heat holding my length captive, a maddening tease, one that made my cock twitch. I pulled out and thrust back in, keeping my pace hard, a friction that had my pelvis brushing with her clit. “Spread your legs wide.”
She did, and my hand went to her clit, rubbing as I thrust into her, fucking and rubbing those silent breathy moans past her lips, fucking and rubbing my name off of her tongue, fucking and rubbing her into a zone, lost in me, lost in this, into this feeling that seemed to be blooming in my chest.
Her hips lifted to meet my thrusts, rolling, grinding, turning me crazed. I dropped my head on her collarbone. “Fuck. That’s good, so good; you’re doing so fucking good, Zahra. Fuck.”
I don’t curse often, but my whole damn vocabulary had suddenly gone extinct. I could only express myself in ways she had subjected me to; every word in my head started with an f and ended with a k—her body, her voice, her moans. They were all fucking with my mind.
I knew sex was good, I knew it was fucking addictive, I knew it had a sweetness to it that could make anyone melt—but I didn’t know it could be this all-consuming, I didn’t know it could make my chest ache, I didn’t know I could lose myself, my mind, I didn’t know it could be so engulfing, so … so—fuck.
She tightened around me, her legs came around my waist, and her release warmed my cock. Her back arched upward as I fucked her faster, sloppier, and—
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My stomach was in knots, my chest was caving in on itself, and I came feverishly inside her, and her arms came around my shoulders, holding me like she knew I was about to break, mentally and physically.
Her lips sought mine, a kiss deeper than any we’d shared already passed between us.
Hot. Intimate. Intense.
My speeding heart was supposed to have calmed; my vocabulary was supposed to have returned, but—fuck, my heart was still a raging organ in my chest. Even as I pulled away from the kiss, sliding out of her and falling wordlessly to her side, I could still hear the pounding in my chest; my eyes latched onto the ceiling above the bed.
Zahra let out a contented breath. “Well, wow. It just gets better.”
I didn’t respond. My eyes were still on the ceiling, my chest rising and falling. My mind was numb, my body alive.
“You okay?” Her voice tried to invade my thoughts.
But something was happening to me; some part of my brain was foggy, some part of my chest had been left heavy, something changed and clicked into place, something gathered and stayed, and something grew. Something grew so fucking large, untamable.
Her weight shifted on the bed, and I felt her hand on my chest, her eyes on me. “Elio?”
I blinked, turning my head and swallowing when I caught her gaze.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You just went pale,” she said with a cautious laugh. “Are you getting a fever?” She pressed her knuckles against my neck.
I shook my head.
“What happened? Did you remember something?”
I shook my head.
“What’s going on—”
“Do you have a chessboard?”
She frowned, my question seeming to have caught her off guard.
“Wh-what?”
“Do you have a chessboard? I have the sudden urge to play.” Make my brain work normally again.
“Oh, uh … you were thinking about chess when you were fucking me?”
“I wasn’t thinking when I was—” I stopped, refusing to use the f-word again. “With you, when I was with you—just now.”
Something like wariness flashed through her eyes. “You’re acting weird.”
I blinked. “I think we should wash up.” And then I was standing, leaving the bed, leaving her side, going into the en suite bathroom. I closed the door and let out a breath.
I locked my eyelids tightly together before pulling them back open, blocking my thoughts, blocking my mind, blocking whatever this was.
Dealing with it now was impossible, so I kept it, held it, and suppressed it for later.
I was back in my clothes, and Zahra was coming out of the bathroom when I moved to put my shoes on; she frowned at me. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, I have—”
“You just got here … I mean, if you want to leave, I’m not stopping you, but did you just come here for sex?”
I looked up at her just in time to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a faded green T-shirt and new blue jean shorts, watching me with a confused frown.
“I’ve been here for almost four hours now. I was with your friends before I came in here. My intentions weren’t to have sex with you. It just happened because … well … it was—”
“Do you want to stay?” she asked.
I paused. “Pardon?”
She cleared her throat. “You hung out with everyone for hours … what about me?”
“What do you want to do?” I asked, schooling my surprise and suppressing the warmth in my chest.
She grinned suddenly. “Remember when you wanted us to watch that show about Lucifer?”
I had no interest in the show or sitting down staring at people reading lines from a script. “Yes, I remember.”
“We can watch it now.”
I had to see Casmiro. He would be arriving today, and I needed to fill him in on the progress with Kareem and attend a brief signing meeting with—
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine—”
“Let’s watch it,” I said, arranging my shoes back by the side of the bed.
She got to her feet, tilting her head as she approached me with a sly smile. “Canceling plans for me?”
“Are you going to put it on?”
She reached for me, wrapping her arms around my body, startling me with a genuine smile while she looked up at me. “That’s really nice of you. No one has ever canceled plans for me.”
I looked down at her with a frown. “When was it mentioned by me in the past few minutes that I canceled plans for you?”
“You didn’t have to mention it.”
“I won’t comment because I believe everyone is allowed to be delusional.”
She held my wrists, pulling me back toward the bed. “I hope you don’t mind spoilers.”
“What are spoilers?”
I found out an hour later when she told me all that would happen in the first episode before I had the chance to actually watch it.
At first, it wasn’t annoying. I loved listening to her talk, but three episodes in, I wanted to be surprised by what was happening next. I learned from how the main character examined his thoughts, and was interested in seeing his story through. It was like reading a book but watching it happen.
Hours fell into hours, hours where I reprimanded her, kicked her off the bed, and decided to leave but stopped when she promised to quit telling me what happened, who the killer was, and why they killed the victim.
At some point, I sent a message to Casmiro, telling him I would be running late.
And yes, I ran late; the day turned into night. I was on the last episode of the first season. Zahra had left for almost an hour, brought dinner later, and I was still watching.
I watched until the second season started, and the person who’d roped me into it was fast asleep by my side.
I couldn’t sleep, so I kept on watching …
I liked the show, I liked hearing her breathe beside me, and I liked being in the same space where Elia dwelled.
I felt wholly comfortable for the first time in a long while; all troubling thoughts were set aside.
All that mattered now was this. This show, this woman beside me, and this feeling slowly coming to life in my chest.