Elias #3
“I need to be deeper,” I say, sitting back on my calves. “You need to
feel me deeper. Turn around on your knees baby.”
“I can’t Honey my legs aren’t working.”
It’s been a while since her last orgasm, but her knees still buckle when
she tries to get in position.
“Let me take care of you baby.” I pull her up, wrapping my arm over her stomach and turning her around. I cuff her wrists in one hand and hold her hip with the other as I slip inside, pressing my face into her hair.
“Oh God,” She breathes, her legs buckling again.
“There it is.”
The angle lets me sink balls-deep, her tight pussy like a gloved fist around my shaft. I have to summon all my restraint not to come. Another satisfied, moan ricochets off the walls, fuelling my arousal. Sweat coats my back, my orgasm building at the base of my spine.
I spread my fingers over her throat careful with the bruises that fucker has left, pulling her back until she rests against my chest, and I tilt her chin up, watching pure ecstasy paint her face.
I’d love nothing more than to squeeze a bit and control how much air
she takes in, but I’ll bruise her further if I use my fingers as a necklace, and that’s not happening. Instead, I started driving into her faster.
“I don’t think” she chokes, her breathing hiccupping when my fingers
toy with her nipples. “I can’t handle another one.”
“You can, baby.” I kiss her shoulder, “Now, let me feel you, baby. Squeeze me with your pussy, take me.”
The second she spasms around me is the second I come too. She moans and shakes, clawing my arm as I grip her chin, turning her head to
drink those moans straight from her lips.
I thrust a few more times, riding the orgasm until it’s too intense, and I
stop, holding her upright while she trembles all over, her petite body limp.
Settling back on my haunches, resting my weight over my heels, I pull her with me, hearing her whimper as I go deeper not ready yet to remove myself, I feel the sweat of her back on my chest as she breathes heavy, the back of her head lying against my shoulder.
Neither of us moved. The room had fallen quiet again, save for the slow rhythm of our breathing and the rain beginning to tap softly against the cottage windows.
I stared at the timber ceiling, trying to slow my pulse.
It wasn't working. Nothing about tonight had gone the way I'd expected.
Nothing about her ever did. Seraphina shifted against me, wincing ever so slightly as the bruises decorating her ribs reminded her they were still there.
Even hurt, she found a way to smile. Her dark curls spilled across her shoulders like ink, framing those impossible brown eyes as she looked at me.
She was studying me again. Always studying.
"Elias?"
"Hm?"
She hesitated, the corners of her mouth twitching.
"Is it always like that?"
I turned my head toward her. There wasn't a trace of embarrassment in her expression. Only wonder. Like she'd discovered something she'd spent her whole life searching for. I couldn't help it.
I laughed. Not loudly. Just enough for the sound to escape my chest. A real laugh.
"No."
She frowned.
"No?"
I reached over, brushing a curl behind her ear.
"No, baby."
My thumb lingered against her cheek.
"It isn't, it never has been."
Her brows pulled together.
"But..."
I smiled, shaking my head.
"What happened tonight."
I searched for the right words.
"I've spent years convincing myself I knew what intimacy was, fuck was I wrong."
Her eyes softened.
"You make me forget every rule I've ever lived by. You make me lose control. You make me feel things I buried a long time ago."
I let out a slow breath.
"So, no. It isn't always like that. It never was with anyone else."
Silence settled between us. She searched my face as if trying to decide whether she believed me. Finally, she whispered,
"So... it's me?"
"It's you. Only you."
The words left my mouth before I could question them. There wasn't any point pretending anymore. She smiled then, not the mischievous smile she wore when she was trying to irritate me or the sarcastic one, she used to hide behind.
This one was quiet. Content. She inched closer until her forehead rested beneath my chin. I wrapped an arm around her carefully, mindful of every bruise hidden beneath her skin.
"You know," she murmured sleepily, "you're getting dangerously good at this feeling thing."
"I wouldn't go that far. We’ll get up soon baby. I just need to hold you some more."
She sighed against me, tension slowly moving from her body as she relaxed completely.
“Okay, Honey. I’m just going to be here.”
Later that night, after I'd showered us both, Seraphina never stirred.
She slept through every gentle touch, every careful movement as I dried her, dressed the cuts I'd missed, and carried her back to bed.
I settled beneath the blankets, drawing her against my chest, holding her there like letting go wasn't an option.
And for the first time in years...
Sleep didn't feel like another battle waiting to happen.
It felt like coming home.