Chapter 6
ADAM
The light filtering through the sheer curtains is soft and gray, muted from the white snow on the mountain and the lingering storm clouds from the day before. I wake slowly, and for the first time in a long time, I reach to the other side of the bed and find someone there.
She's here. She's real. It’s been so long since my sleep has been disturbed by concern and respect for a sleeping partner.
A need to protect, to be vigilant. My late wife and I slept in different rooms for quite a few years.
I loved her, respectfully. I admired her, and many of her qualities, but our intimacy waned over time
The events of the previous evening come rushing back: the sudden storm, the terror of losing Elowen, the shock of relief upon finding her, the bath, and of course the desperate, hungry need that consumed us both. I place my hand on her naked back, willing myself to believe it wasn’t a dream.
She shifts, still in her sleep, to face me, and I soak in the simple intimacy of the moment. Her hair is a dark, tangled mess on the pillow, her lips slightly parted, still a little swollen from the kisses we shared. Her breaths rasping, her features peaceful, contented.
I slide from the bed without disturbing her and make a few calls. By the time the room service arrives, she's starting to stir, a confused frown on her face until I sit on the mattress next to her.
"Good morning.” She sounds adorably shy. Her eyes failing to meet mine.
“Good morning, Elowen. I hope you’re hungry.”
We eat in bed, the silence between us easy. I feed her from my fingers, and she takes the morsels with lowered lashes. I’m instantly hard beneath the sheets covering my lap.
When the food is done, I reach for her, hungry for the taste of her skin, but she stiffens, and I pull back.
"What's wrong?"
A shadow passes over the grass-green of her eyes. "Nothing," she says, her voice artificially bright. "I'm fine."
"Elowen. There’s no reason to lie. Talk to me."
She blows out a shaky breath, stirring a dark curl off her forehead. "I'm hesitant,” she admits. "I'm scared I’ve messed everything up with the best job I’ve ever had by falling headfirst into a fling.”
"You haven’t ruined anything," I insist, reaching out to cup her face in my palm. "And it's sure as hell not a fling."
"But how can you be so sure?" she asks, her eyes, stronger now, but searching. "We barely know each other, and it’s all moving at light speed.” She lowers her face and under her breath mutters, “way too fast…”
"Maybe," I concede, my thumb stroking her cheek, "but you don’t feel like a stranger, Elowen. You never have.”
She furrows her brow in a silent question. I owe her an answer, but fuck…it’s hard.
"I don’t like to think about those weeks after Celeste died.
” I start. “When I look back, it’s all grey…
except the memory of you. Your emerald eyes.
Your voice, uncareful and genuine. You treated me like a person, and it was a relief.
I was too fucked up then to know why, but I knew I wanted you around when I emerged from the dark cloud of it all.
When I was myself again, I could see why. ”
“Why?”
“Because you fascinate me. I adore you, Elowen.” I lick my lips, knowing I have to say the next part, otherwise she’ll always question how I moved on so fast. “Listen. I did love my wife, but I was never in love with her, and she was never in love with me. I married her because it benefited us both financially and socially. I always respected Celeste and came to love her in time, and we both adored our daughter. But we hadn’t slept in the same room for almost a decade, long before she was ill.
I was loyal. She was too. Her loss fucking devastated me.
But this thing between us, Elowen? It’s a first for me.
I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you. ”
It’s true, and I struggle to understand it. My world is ordered, precise, but something I’ve never encountered before has hit me hard, and I’m in a spin. What is this? I cannot explain it or diagnose it. I struggle to even name it.
“Oh.” She laughs, a little self-consciously, dashing away a tear that she thinks I don’t see.
“Well. I feel a little less ridiculous, then. I thought I was taking this new job too far. Too seriously. Don’t get me wrong, Adam, I love it.
Love here. But I’m worried I’ve become a little too obsessed with you too. ”
Victory surges up in me. Obsessed. It’s good for my ego, and it’s even better when she melts into my arms. I slide her forward and kiss her.
It feels so natural and so uncomplicated, but she tenses.
I’m attuned to Elowen in a way I’ve never been with anyone.
There’s still a thread of something there. Something hesitant.
"What is it? What are you still holding back?"
"It's stupid," she tries to laugh again, but it’s high-pitched and full of nerves. "You'll probably laugh."
"I won't," I promise. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."
She looks away, her gaze fixed on the cinematic vista of the snow-covered mountains outside the window.
"I'm…I'm a virgin," she whispers, sounding mortified.
"I know I'm almost thirty, and it's probably weird, and it's not for any religious reason or anything like that, and I just thought you should know.
I didn't want you to be disappointed or feel like you have to teach me or something.”
Elowen is flushed and embarrassed, twisting the blanket she’s used to cover herself between her fingers, looking anywhere but at me…
and I’m filled with such a fierce, tender protectiveness that it aches.
The possessive part of me that wants her all for myself howls in victory. A virgin, and she’s all mine.
I reach for her, "Hey. Look at me."
Her eyes meet mine, and she looks almost afraid. Afraid that I’ll reject her over something like this? Absurd.
"Elowen. This is not something I see as a problem. This is a gift. A gift you've been saving for someone who deserves it. I don’t know if there is a man on the planet good enough for that gift, but I’m greedy, Elowen, and if you’re offering yourself to me, my answer is always going to be yes.”
“Really?” She still doesn’t sound sure, but at least she looks up at me.
"Really," I confirm. I focus hard on her eyes. So hard, I feel a furrow tighten between my brows. I’m literally willing my eyes to reflect reassurance.
Her lips curve into a small, careful smile. "Okay," she whispers. Takes in a deep breath and sighs, “Okay.”
"Okay," I echo, my own smile widening. "Now, come here."
I pull her into my arms, her body fitting against mine like she was made for me. I slant my mouth over hers, tasting espresso and maple syrup, and she makes little whimpers as my tongue slides against hers that I’ll remember until the day I die.
I lay her back against the pillows, my body covering hers, the blankets and sheets we’d been using for modesty falling away until it’s just her soft skin on mine, only my boxers remaining.
Elowen’s legs come around my waist, her nipples hard when she arches into my chest. She’s fucking perfect to me, and the hard line of my cock trapped between us makes that more than obvious.
I want this to be perfect for her. I want it to be a memory she'll cherish, a moment that will erase all her fears, all her doubts. More selfishly, I want her to be addicted to this, to me, to the way I make her feel.
My lips make a map of her body, the hollow of her throat, the place behind her ear that makes her shiver, the slopes of her breasts and each of her nipples, using my teeth and tongue until she’s gasping and grinding herself against me.
“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
“Better than good,” she pants, eyes rolling back when I drag my rough stubbled cheek over one nipple, “But I need, I need?—“
“I know what you need, Elowen. Patience.”
She huffs, adorably annoyed. When my mouth reaches the curve of her belly, I consider eating her out again, remembering just how sweet she tasted last night, but my girl needs something more than just fingers and tongue right now
There will be time for me to feast on her again later. I’ll make sure of it.
I position myself between her spread legs, pulling my boxers down and throwing them aside.
It’s the first time she’s seen my cock bare, and she pushes herself up on her elbows to watch me with wide eyes.
I fist my cock in my hand and stroke myself a few times.
Not entirely performative. A small bubble of pre-cum moistens the head.
“You’re…wow.” She breathes.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can take me. I know you can.” She’s made for me, I know it.
For a second it looks like she wants to argue, but then she swallows and nods once. “Okay… trust you.”
She lays her head and reaches both arms up to settle the pillow. Her breasts rise and tighten, tweaking my arousal even more. I move forward over her, one hand stroking her already-wet pussy and preparing her while the other spreads her legs.
"Okay?" I ask, my voice strained. Elowen arches up, hands fisting in the sheets as I splay her folded lips apart with my fingers. Opening her and circling her clit with my thumb.
“More than okay,” she breathes, and I grin. She wants this, badly. I feel her wetness
Positioning myself at her entrance, I lean forward more, one hand on the mattress next to her beautiful face. “Breathe through it, Elowen. Relax. Just enjoy. This is for you, all for you. I’m going to make you feel so good.”
Her hands grip the muscles of my biceps as I press forward, filling her little by little.
She’s impossibly tight and hot, and it’s so fucking hard not to lose myself in how good it feels and fuck into her with abandon, but I force myself to stay aware of every micro expression on her sweet face, every twitch of her muscles, every tiny gasp from her lips.
This has to be perfect, because she has to be mine. Forever.
I hold back, I wait, I focus on her, on her pleasure, on her needs. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I’m fully seated in her pussy, and she’s blinking up at me in awe.
Kissing her slowly, I give her time to adjust, tangling our tongues before telling her, “I’m going to move now, Elowen.”
She nods once. It’s enough.
I pull out just as carefully as I pushed in, and repeat the process, getting faster, more forceful, each time, until I’m fucking her in earnest. Elowen is gripping my arms even harder now, but her expression is suffused in pleasure, mouth open, pupils blown wide.
Her gasps have become full-on moans. She fucking loves it, loves being fucked. By me.
Shifting forward even more, I coax her legs over my shoulders, hitting even deeper inside her pussy, and the way she throws her head back tells me she’s seeing stars. There’s a tell-tale tightening in my balls, and I know I’m not going to last much longer.
But I know just how to get her there first, using one hand to find her swollen clit and rub my thumb over it again and again. Her moans become almost sob-like, her nails dig into my back, her inner walls starting to flutter against my cock.
Then Elowen cries out, those muscles milking me rhythmically as she comes, a full body shudder rolling over her. I claim her mouth in a hot, messy kiss as I follow her over the edge, groaning against her lips as I spill myself inside of her with a handful of hard, frantic thrusts.
It’s so fucking good. Nothing has ever been so good.
When I’m sure we’re both spent, I roll off her, pulling her into my arms. She’s soft, sweaty, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
"That was…" she wonders drowsily.
"Yeah. Yeah, it was." I press a kiss to her damp hair. “Rest for a minute. Then we’ll check out the shower together.”
Elowen hums in agreement, too tired for words, and I know I’m not getting any work done for a long while.