Chapter 21 #2
Can’t you tell? I wish I could ask her. He’s enamored with you. He’s desperate for you.
Even when sixteen-year-old Elliot tells her he’s in love with her, that she’s everything he’s ever wanted, she doesn’t believe him. She assumes his affection is fleeting. I haven’t seen the memory from my perspective. There’s so many things I still don’t know, and yet, I know.
We come out of the memory, and Cora busies herself with the stone. She carefully returns this memory—a sharp pink shade—to her mind. Then, she straightens the stone’s ingredients and readies for another. Instead, I gently grab her wrist, stopping her. She looks at me, mouth parted in surprise.
“He meant it,” I tell her.
“What?”
“He was going to love you until the end of time,” I say.
“Maybe,” she says. She lowers her gaze to my hand, still clasped loosely around her wrist.
I rub my thumb over her soft skin, and she shivers, letting out a breathy gasp.
“You know, I never dated anyone for long,” I say.
I continue making small circles over her skin.
And though her eyes are down, I keep my focus on her face.
“Mama always wanted me to find a nice woman, settle down, give her a dozen grand babies. I couldn’t though.
I never found anyone who held my attention. At least, that’s what I assumed.”
Cora swallows. Her eyes dart to mine, only to lower again.
“I forgot we existed,” I say. “I forgot you, Cora, but I don’t think my body did. I think it remembered. I think it knew what made me whole, and it wasn’t interested in settling for less.”
“Elliot,” she says. She sighs, soft and resigned. “I’ve just thrown so much at you. You shouldn’t—“
“For Mother’s sake, Cora,” I say. I cup her face between my hands again, resting my thumbs on her cheekbones. “Stop deciding what I should do. My choices are not yours to make. If you don’t want to kiss me or care about me or be near me, then say it. Don’t tell me I don’t want it.”
Her brown eyes meet mine, and I hate how scared she looks. Terrified, as if this is a trick. Worried, as if I would ever hurt her.
“I want it, Cora,” I tell her. When her gaze flickers to my mouth, I lean closer, daring her. “I want you.”
We remain still for a long moment. I move my hands from her face to her shoulders, light enough she could easily pull away. She stares and stares and stares, until finally, her cool fingers trace up my arms and settle around the back of my neck.
She’s breathing hard, unevenly.
I am tuned into her every movement, no matter how small.
She’s waiting for me to kiss her, I think. But this time, I need her to take control. To admit she wants it too, much as she pretends otherwise.
She grips the back of my shirt, and with an adorably determined scowl, she leans into me. Her lips brush mine, soft at first, then firmer. I drop my hands to her waist, settling them over her hips. I don’t let myself do anything more. I force myself to wait, to let her set the pace.
It’s fucking excruciating in the best way imaginable. She kisses slow, leisurely, as if exploring my mouth for the first time. Her teeth nip at my lower lip, then my jawline. She kisses down my throat, once again finding that spot just above my collarbone.
It switches something animalistic inside me. I clench her hips and tug her onto my lap before I think about what I’m doing. Grinding her over my rapidly hardening cock is not letting her set the pace.
But she’s moaning into my neck, letting out pleased whimpers as she rubs against me, and I can’t bring myself to care.
“Fuck,” I hiss. “Fuck, you’re the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
She doesn’t respond. She’s too busy kissing my neck again, humming softly against my skin.
“Where’s the line?” I ask. I play with the hem of her skirt, then inch my fingers beneath it. I keep my hands on her thighs, not daring to drift higher. “I need to know, Cora. I can’t remember what we’ve done. I don’t know what you like—“
“You,” she breathes out. “I like you.”
She kisses her way up the column of my throat, and it’s like a fucking rush of magic through my veins. It’s almost impossible to think straight, but I have to. I’m ready to fuck her just about any way imaginable, but only if she’s ready for that too.
“Tell me what you like,” I insist. “And what you don’t.”
“Okay,” she says between kisses.
She’s trembling as she touches me, but I know from her memories that it’s not from fear. She’s aroused. So turned on she can’t find an outlet. And I’ve never been more eager to please, to be everything she needs and more.
In a swift movement, I rotate us until she’s on her back and I’m propped over her. I keep my weight on my elbows, lowering myself just enough that our hips and chests brush every time we breathe.
Cora stares up at me, but if she’s startled from the sudden position change, she doesn’t show it. A hazy glaze settles over her eyes, her pupils dilated and intensely focused on me.
“You’re so pretty,” I say. I capture her lips with my own, gently sucking her tongue in my mouth. Now it’s my turn to explore her. “And you taste so fucking sweet.”
I shift onto one elbow, letting my opposite hand trail up her thigh. She’s trembling still, arching against me, until her pelvis rubs against my cock. I bite back a groan, forcing enough space to get my hand between us.
Like last night, she’s already wet. I brush my thumb over her leggings, pressing against her heat. She thrusts her hips in rhythm with my touch, letting her head fall back and her eyes drift shut.
“Is this okay?” I ask roughly.
“Mmhm,” she murmurs. When she briefly opens her eyes, she appears half in another world. She grabs the collar of my shirt, tugging my mouth down to hers. Just before our lips touch, she whispers, “More. I need more. Please.”
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I say.
Her only response is to thrust her hips harder against me. The frigid and distant Cora I’ve seen over the past few weeks has evaporated, replaced with someone whose vast hunger nearly matches my own. She claws at my neck, and I slip my hand into her leggings.
She’s wet. Warm. Perfect.
“Gods, Cora,” I whisper, letting her name drag from deep within my lungs. I drop my head against her shoulder as I press into her tight heat. She writhes against me as I press deeper. Just one finger, then two.
The room is filled with our heavy breaths and the obscene sound of my finger fucking her cunt.
“Okay?” I ask again. I start to pull back to look at her, but she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.
“Don’t stop,” she begs. “Please, Elliot. I’m going to—I think I’m going to—”
She breaks off, but there’s no question what she was going to say. I massage her clit with my thumb and kiss her neck, rubbing my cock against her leg. It’s ungodly euphoric, so blissful the world around us stops existing.
My thoughts blur. My movements jerk. There is nothing except me and this impossibly perfect woman coming beneath me.
She cries out a garbled version of my name, and I come hearing it. I fuck her through the end of her orgasm, leaving my hand in the beautiful mess between her thighs. I’ve never been particularly interested in eating a woman out, but right now, it’s all I can do to resist.
I want to claim every inch of this woman, and I vow to myself, I will. Someday, there will be no part of her I haven’t kissed, licked, devoured.
For now, I settle my hand between her thighs and kiss her mouth until I’m sure she must be tired of it. When I pull back though, her puffy lips curl into a smile. It’s soft, hesitant. The smile of someone accustomed to being knocked in the dirt.
“I don’t think I’ve ever sucked your cock,” she says. “If I have, it’s in one of my jars. You might have to talk me through it.”
“There is nothing I’d like more than your mouth on my cock,” I tell her. I brush my lips down her throat as I speak, relishing the trail of gooseflesh that follows. “But it’ll have to wait until next time.”
“Oh,” she says. Faint red decorates her cheeks. “Do we need to leave?”
“Not just yet,” I say, even though we probably should. I rotate onto my side, tugging her against me, until her ass is tucked against my already hardening cock. “I just need a minute before I can go again.”
“Did you actually?” she asks. She pushes onto her elbows, blush growing deeper as she notices my pants. The cum stain shows through the grey pants, but so does the outline of my cock. She looks long enough I laugh.
“Yes, I did,” I say. “You keep looking at me though, and I’ll be ready in no time.”
“Good,” she says. She quirks her lips into a quick smile before laying down again, her back pressed to my chest. I tug her hips, until I’m fully pressed against her firm ass.
Cora’s breathing slows and steadies until I’m sure she’s fallen asleep. I kiss the back of her head and wrap my arm across her middle, anchoring her to me.
“I missed you,” I say. “I’m not sure I know just how much, but I know I really fucking missed you, Cora.”
“Secora,” she says after a long pause. She takes my hand and cradles it against her chest. “You can call me Secora again.”
“Secora,” I whisper against her hair. “My Secora.”