Chapter 52
CHAPTER
FIFTY-TWO
WRATH
I don’t move immediately. Being inside Elodie feels too goddamn good to even try to move.
At least not yet. This moment seems bigger than anything ever has.
I’ve just claimed her, not just for the night, but for always.
Almost fifty years old, and I never thought to make a woman mine.
All mine. But that’s what I want in Elodie.
The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew that she wasn’t just going to be the company I hired to clean the clubhouse. She was so much more than that.
And I was right.
She is so much more than just someone I hired.
She’s mine.
My hips begin to move, and I feel her cunt squeeze my cock as I slide almost completely out of her and then slam back inside. I take it slow and hard, watching her eyes widen and listening to her breath hitch with each thrust, each slam into her body.
A body made just for me.
Elodie hitches her legs higher on my hips, pressing her shins against the sides of my ribs as I shift even closer to her, grinding my pelvis against her clit. I look into her eyes, watching as she climbs higher and higher toward her release.
“Look at me,” I demand when her eyes begin to close.
I don’t stop moving. I’m so fucking close, I can feel my lower back begin to tingle. My balls draw up, and I know that I have to make her come before I completely lose my fucking control.
Her eyes continue to close, and I shake my head once because I want to look into her eyes when she comes. I want to see everything. Wrapping my fingers around the back of her neck, I grip the strands of her hair there to hold her head in place.
“Keep your eyes open, Haze,” I growl.
My other hand slips between us as I continue to fuck her. She gasps, her lips parting in awe, and I have to confess it really fills a man with confidence seeing a woman look at him the way that Elodie is looking at me right now.
Swirling my thumb against her clit, I work her there, my eyes staying focused and connected to hers.
“Please,” she exhales with a whimper.
She doesn’t need to ask or beg. I’m hers. And I’ll always make sure she has whatever she needs from me, especially this. My hips move, my fingers move, but my gaze stays connected to hers.
Unmoving. Unwavering.
“Are you going to be a good girl and come for me, Elodie?” I ask, my voice coming out husky, rough, and gravelly.
Elodie nods once, her eyes searching mine as she opens her mouth, and then it happens. I feel her pussy clamp down around my cock, squeezing me so fucking tightly that it pulls the orgasm out of me. I lose any control that I had, and I come hard.
Burying myself deep inside her sweet body, I bite down, gnashing my teeth together as I empty inside her. She drains my balls, her pussy pulsing around me, milking me, and then I hear a gasp.
Turning my head slowly, I look toward the doorway. Elodie does the same, and then the realization of who is staring at us slams into me. Normally, I would give not one single fuck, but it’s not just anyone. It’s Alex.
He is standing in the doorway, his eyes wide.
I don’t move. His eyes narrow as his attention cuts to Elodie, and I can tell that he is going to say something I’m probably not going to like.
We’ve had an up-and-down situation, me and Alex, so I really fucking hope he doesn’t say anything that pisses me off.
But when he opens his mouth, there it fucking is, and it sure as shit pisses me off.
Instantly.
“You fucking idiot. You’re going to seriously put yourself and me in the middle of whatever this shit is for,” he says, making it a point to flick his attention down to our connection before he shifts it back up, “some dick. You’re exactly like your mother.”
Without giving Elodie a chance to respond to his statement, he spins around and walks out of the kitchen. Once he’s gone, I shift my attention back to Elodie. But she doesn’t even notice. She’s focused on that empty doorway, and I know that those words he said to her hit and hit hard.
That fucker.
He’d better watch the fuck out, because if one tear falls from Elodie’s eyes, I’ll beat the absolute shit out of him, and nobody in this entire clubhouse would lift a finger to stop me.
Forcing myself to take a step backward and lose the connection between us, I tug my jeans up, zip and button them before I adjust my belt.
Finding her gaze with mine, I jerk my chin in her direction, but I don’t ask her if she’s good, because I can tell by the glazed expression on her face that she is not. Instead, I gather her in my arms and carry her to my bed.