Chapter 16 #3
My entire body shook, an orgasm already creeping in. Only a few more strokes and I would detonate, I was that close. All the adrenaline, I guessed. All I knew for certain was that I needed a release. Needed to feel alive somehow.
But just as rapidly as Elliot had touched me there, his hand was gone.
He didn’t even look at me, just turned his back and walked into the kitchen.
I stayed where I was, pulse thrashing as I struggled with the prospect of another second without climaxing, let alone a handful of hours.
Elliot hadn’t told me to do anything, so I just stood, watching as he filled a glass, grabbed my pills from the counter then shook a couple into his hand.
“I’m going to make you a sandwich to ensure you don’t take these on an empty stomach. Then, when you’re done, you’re going to take off all your clothes and get in the shower with me.”
His tone told me there was no room for negotiation, and hell if I could even come up with an argument. I merely nodded.
Relief. Despite the urgent wantonness I needed to alleviate, I mostly felt relief that I was going to be taken care of. For the night.
I’d take care of myself tomorrow.
Slay dragons tomorrow.
“Please,” I whimpered.
My hair was still damp from the shower, though Elliot had mostly towel dried it.
He’d washed every inch of my body, lathering the sensitive peaks of my nipples but moving away from them the second my breathing accelerated.
He’d been careful not to get my bandage wet, although it was slightly awkward.
I’d let out a low moan as his deft fingers worked shampoo and conditioner into my hair, blinking at how much dirt went down the drain. I hadn’t realized how caked in mud I was until I’d come out of the shower clean.
Elliot had done the same with the towel as he had with the soap, drying every inch of my body like he was going to be graded on it. He had kneeled in front of my pussy, leaning forward to inhale deeply, hands on the back of my thighs as he did so.
My entire body swayed at the intimate act, his nose brushing right against my sensitive clit, the barely there touch already enough to thrust me to the edge of climax.
But he’d leaned back again, gazing up at me with a sinful smile.
He’d parted my legs in order to fully expose me, for him to brush his fingers upon the skin that felt swollen and hungry.
My hand clamped onto his shoulder, bracing myself before I toppled over. Elliot used his other hand at my hip to steady me.
Using his fingers to part me, Elliot laid his lips on my clit, tongue ghosting over the bud.
My nails dug into the skin of his shoulders, likely hard enough to hurt, to leave a mark, but I couldn’t control myself. I felt wild. Desperate. My muscles were wound so tight, I thought something in me might snap if I didn’t come.
“Please,” I gasped.
Elliot’s mouth left me, and I almost cried. “Please?” he repeated. “Please what, Calliope?”
I licked my lips, hating and loving the man in equal parts for his exquisite cruelty. “Please let me come.”
Begging. I was begging him. Except he was the one on his knees.
Elliot’s fingers dug into my hip, the others playing with me almost casually. But I knew every ministration was precise, him expertly knowing my body, understanding just where, with what pressure, to touch me.
“I like that.” He leaned in again, mouth moving with torturous softness. Not enough pressure. “Hearing you ask for it.”
I wanted to scream in frustration.
“But not yet.” He rocked back on his heels. “I don’t think I’ve made my point.”
He pushed up from the floor, leaving me wide-eyed and slack-mouthed at his refusal. But I wasn’t frozen in place for long since Elliot yet again gathered me in his arms, our naked skin pressing together.
Even though I was practically mad with desperate, sexual longing, my skin warmed in contentment as Elliot tucked me into his chest, both of us smelling like his soap.
Simple bar soap, nothing fancy, yet the smell was so complex and comforting that I knew it was imprinted into my scent memory forever.
Every single one of my neurons was on fire, the fabric of his bedding grazing my naked body as he set me down on his bed.
He stood above me, taking in every inch of my naked form. I didn’t miss his pause on my arm, the wrinkle in his devoted hunger. It didn’t last longer than a second, then his finger was trailing the shape of my nipples.
My back arched upward, aching for his touch, for friction, for anything. But he merely traced the shape with a teasing touch, drawing a line to the other then down my navel.
I gasped as his fingers dipped between my legs then through my folds. My body welcomed him, hips undulating to help obtain the pressure I needed.
Elliot’s finger stopped, his eyes meeting mine. “No moving.”
Again, I could’ve cried from need, in desperation.
Yet the notion of disobeying him was impossible.
I stilled my hips while his fingers made lazily insertions, probing all the right places, almost the right way but falling back the second I felt the telltale tightening of pressure at the base of my spine.
I didn’t know how long he kept me there, at the edge, writhing, panting, pleading.
“Please.”
My breath was hoarse, my body already covered in a thin film of sweat despite my recent shower.
Elliot’s body stiffened, and he came into stark focus.
All of his muscles seemed to be defined even further, the cords in his neck so pronounced they seemed to be made of stone.
Elliot might’ve been pushing me back-and-forth from the edge, torturing me, but he was torturing himself too.
His lust for me was etched into every part of my skin.
“Please, Elliot,” I whispered.
His fingers left my pussy, but before I could protest, his body covered mine, cock poised at my entrance, pressing against my pulsing core.
I let out a hiss between my teeth as he pressed but didn’t enter.
“Have you learned your lesson, Calliope?” His voice was guttural. “Will you disobey me again?”
Though I was going crazy with impatience, I was still me. “Yes,” I bit out. “I will. I may like being your toy while in here, but I will not submit to you fully. Ever.”
At the venom in my words, the truth in them, I expected him to frown in disappointment. I didn’t know why I expected such a thing from Elliot.
“Good.” He grinned instead. “Because fuck, do I enjoy punishing you.”
And then he slammed into me.
And my world erupted in pleasure.
ELLIOT
Calliope fell asleep easily because I made sure she would. I ensured that she was exhausted, satisfied, that she simply wouldn’t have the energy to stay up, thinking over the day’s events, wouldn’t overthink us .
Although she had a damn good poker face, I was learning to read her tells.
I was learning to read her. Though truly knowing her would take time.
A lifetime, I expected. But I was learning enough.
Enough to know that she was complicated.
And that she was the woman I could see spending a lifetime learning.
I saw through her acrimonious exterior. I had since the first day on the boat, though I was unable to explain, even to myself, how I’d found the softness in her when all she showed the world was hardness.
She kept her family on the outside to protect them, and she was trying to do the same with me.
She didn’t want anyone hurt as a result of her choices. She’d die to ensure that.
My hand ghosted over her bandage, fist extending and relaxing in anger and fear.
How close she’d come to death. To me fucking losing her.
I hadn’t thought for a second about my safety. Didn’t give a shit about it, in fact. What was my safety if Calliope didn’t exist in this world?
My assumption that something had happened to her had turned to certainty.
When I asked her about it earlier in the night, that ghost of trauma had come to the surface more clearly than it had before.
Before it had been nothing but a flicker, nothing concrete.
But I’d seen it. Something had marked her.
First, it had caused that scar in her eyebrow that you couldn’t see unless you were gazing at it in certain lights.
And that scar was the least of it. Whatever happened left a mental scar on Calliope Derrick.
She had been close to telling me, when I asked.
Because I asked. Because I didn’t think that Calliope would lie to me, even though I got the sense she was lying to everyone else around her.
And that she was lying to herself.
She had gotten tangled in something serious in New York.
Something she didn’t feel equipped to handle.
And if she, the most capable and fearsome woman I’d come to know, couldn’t handle it, then I sure as fuck couldn’t.
But I’d find a way. I’d find a way to ensure Calliope didn’t face this, whatever this was, on her own.
And if it was her past shooting at us, I’d make sure that she didn’t push me away in order to keep me safe and her more isolated.
How I’d achieve all of that, I had no fucking idea. But I would. I had to. There was no other option.
I held her tighter, as tight as I dared. She didn’t wake. My eyes stayed glued to the door, to the entrances.
No way would I sleep.
I knew I wouldn’t sleep soundly until the threat to Calliope’s life was gone. Until I figured out how to get that weight from her shoulders, keep her from bolting like a scared deer under the mistaken impression that she was protecting me.