Chapter 9 #2
I was just about to call out for her when I heard it—soft at first, almost like a sigh, but enough to freeze me where I stood. Every muscle in my body tensed. No, that couldn’t be what I thought it was.
I took a step toward the bedroom. The door was slightly open, a faint light spilling through the crack, the only glow in the house besides the fire.
Another sound reached me, barely audible but intimate, vulnerable. My breath caught.
Stars, that sound went straight through me. My pulse quickened, heat spread through my chest and down my spine before I could stop it.
Fuck, that was a pretty noise.
Instantly, my veins caught on fire as her moaning became a little louder. I hovered in the doorway, heart pounding, knowing I should look away, should leave, should give her privacy, but my feet stayed rooted.
Every instinct screamed to turn back, to be decent, to let her have her moment unseen. But I didn’t move. Elowyn was laying in bed, her back arching, her eyes closed tightly as her hand rubbed herself.
I should have look away.
But I didn’t.
I should have left.
But I didn’t move.
My breath caught in my throat as I saw her, lost in a moment I was never meant to witness. Every instinct told me to turn around, to respect her privacy, to not cross this line, yet my body refused to listen.
But then, stars help me, she said my name. A soft, breathless sound that shattered whatever restraint I had left.
Hearing it, hearing my name from her lips like a prayer, sent something through me I that I had never felt before. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
I wanted to run. I wanted to go to her. Both urges warred inside me until I thought I might tear apart from the strain.
“Please,” she whispered again, and that one word nearly undid me.
I forced my eyes shut, teeth clenched, trying to summon whatever self-control I still had left before I did something we could never come back from.
Her other hand ran up her tattooed stomach to her breast. I didn’t know where to look, her face, her body, or her hand touching herself eagerly.
I knew I shouldn’t like this. I should not get pleasure from seeing Elowyn writhing around on my bed, desperate to make herself cum, but the painful swelling of my cock said otherwise.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Abram, please.”
Something about knowing it was me she thought of made my magic swell. Every part of me screamed to cross the line, to go to her, but I forced myself to stay rooted, fists clenched, breath ragged.
Her breathing quickened, her cheeks flushed, her body trembling. The air between us felt charged, heavy enough to crush me.
Then it was over. Her soft gasp fractured the silence, and a wave of heat and guilt crashed through me all at once. I turned away sharply, trying to swallow the ache clawing through my chest.
When I heard her stir, I moved quickly into the living space, running a hand through my hair, desperate to look composed, to not look like I’d just about lost control. Footsteps. The faint sound of fabric shifting. And then her voice, quiet, uncertain.
“Abe.” She paused in the doorway, her tone trembling slightly. “When did you get home?”
“Just now,” I lied, my own voice strained, betraying me anyway. “Why?”
Her eyes darted away from me. “No reason.”
Oh, I liked seeing her like this, on edge, uncertain. It did something to me, watching her pretend to be calm when I could see the truth flickering in her eyes. I took a step closer, tilting my head, studying her. She glanced up, concern tightening her expression.
“Did you just run or something?” I asked, my tone deceptively casual.
Her body tensed. “No, why?”
“Your cheeks are red, like you were doing something strenuous.”
The faintest flicker of panic crossed her face. My lips twitched.
“I was,” she confessed, and for a heartbeat my chest stuttered, waiting for the truth she wouldn’t say. “I moved the dresser in the room.”
I glanced toward the bedroom, recalling every detail of it unchanged.
“But I put it back because it looked best where it was.”
Liar.
The thought was sharp and dangerous, but I didn’t call her on it. Instead, I let the silence stretch, let her fidget under the weight of my attention. She watched me warily, searching for something in my expression. I only let a slow, knowing smirk curve my mouth.
I reached for her hand, unable to help myself. Her breath hitched the moment our skin touched. I traced the faint markings that wound around her fingers, pretending it was idle curiosity, but it wasn’t. The air between us thickened, humming with something unspoken.
I could see her throat move as she swallowed, her hand trembling in mine.
I lifted it slightly, pretending to study her tattoos more closely, even as my pulse thundered.
She watched me closely trying to figure something out.
I just wanted to see her squirm some more, so I grabbed her fingers.
I could see her chest moving rapidly as I traced the two fingers she plunged into herself.
I stared at her as my fingers traced the small tattoos on them.
“W-what are you doing?” she whispered.
“Looking at your tattoos,” I lied softly, not breaking eye contact.
Her brow furrowed, confusion and heat flickering together in her gaze. “Why are your eyes red?”
“Something exciting happened earlier,” I said, letting the words hang.
She hesitated. “What?”
I smiled faintly. “I saw something I never thought I would get to, and it was perfect.”
Her brows knitted tighter, but she didn’t ask more. Instead, she pulled her hand from mine, retreating like she needed space to breathe.
“I’m exhausted,” she said quietly, lowering herself onto the couch.
I stood there for a long moment, watching her settle, my pulse still refusing to slow.
I smiled and went to my bedroom, leaving the door cracked open slightly. The faint creak of the hinges sounded louder than it should have in the quiet house. My chest was tight, pulse thrumming with the heavy awareness that she was just on the other side of that wall.
I slipped off my clothes slowly, every movement deliberate, my skin prickling with leftover tension. Crawling into bed, Elowyn’s scent hit me the moment my head touched the pillow—sweet, flowery, and unmistakably her. It flooded my lungs, filled my head until I could barely think straight.
Fuck.
My hand moved down my stomach before wrapping around my hard length, the roughness of my palm grounding me in the haze of heat spreading through my body.
I closed my eyes, and my mind immediately supplied what I shouldn’t be picturing, Elowyn, needy and desperate in my bed, her voice breathless, her body trembling beneath mine.
I pulled my hand away long enough to spit into it, the sound echoing faintly in the stillness before I started stroking myself again. Each movement was a release of everything I’d been holding back.
Fuck.
This time I didn’t just see her touching herself.
I saw her under me, arching, pleading for me to make her cum.
Her pretty, honey-colored eyes, soft, wet, undone, looked up at me, begging for more.
My hand moved faster, every stroke fueled by the image of her, by the sound of her moans still imprinted in my head.
The way she had whispered my name, barely more than a gasp, had me moaning softly into the darkness. Fuck, what did she picture when she touched herself? Was it me sliding into her? My tongue tracing the edge of her jaw before moving lower? My fingers filling her the way hers had?
Damn, I was close.
My eyes squeezed shut, my stomach tightening as heat pooled low inside me. Every sound, every flicker of memory became her—Elowyn writhing, trembling, coming apart on her fingers. My orgasm slammed into me, sharp and consuming, and I couldn’t stop the rough sound that tore from my throat.
My moan was too loud. My head jerked toward the door. A shadow moved, small, hesitant. Elowyn. Watching.
My heart pounded, adrenaline and lust tangled until I could barely breathe. The idea that she was standing there, seeing me like this, had my veins pulsing with something dark and electric.
I couldn’t see her in the darkness, but I felt her—her curiosity, her want, the way the air shifted around us.
When I finally stood, I had to force my breathing to even out and went to the bathroom to clean up. The sound of water didn’t drown out the rush in my ears though. When I stepped back into the living space, she was there, pretending to sleep, her body still, breathing too even.
I smiled to myself, my chest still tight as I turned back toward my room and left the door open. Just in case she wanted to look again.
I didn’t tell Elowyn that I would be home early again. In fact, I didn’t actually have any work to do that day, but I left the house anyway, my chest tight with the hope that I would come back to stumble upon what I had seen yesterday.
It was dark now, the quiet of the house pressing down on me as I crept back inside.
My pulse roared in my ears, every step toward the bedroom twisting my stomach tight.
The house was barely lit, shadows stretching across the walls like they were alive.
Elowyn was nowhere to be seen, and that small emptiness gnawed at me, making my chest ache.
I moved closer to the dimly lit bedroom, muscles coiled and tense, every sense hyperaware of her presence or absence.
Then I saw her.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes fixed on mine, steady and unflinching. My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t say anything. I didn't need to. I just waited, feeling the pull of her gaze like gravity, feeling the heat of want crawling up my spine.
She stood slowly, deliberately, and my chest tightened with every movement. My hands itched to reach for her, to pull her into me, but I stayed frozen, caught in the impossibility of waiting.