18. 18 #2
I followed his instructions, turning my head to see us.
I wished I had a photo of that moment.
Elias leaned on his elbows between my legs, the same legs that were tangled around him. His hands gripped my thighs, the muscles in his arms flexing as he rubbed small circles with his thumbs. Body flat on the counter, my curves sloped like a landscape laid out before the man I loved.
My face was flushed, lips pouty and jaw slack. Wet hair clung to my forehead, shoulders, and chest. I caught myself looking surprised–moaning, my brows furrowed. Elias wasn’t done.
I watched myself in the mirror, understanding what he saw, if only for a moment. My hands moved down my body, sluggishly touching myself, over my breasts and my stomach, until they reached Elias’s hair. Looking away from the mirror, I caught his gaze, and he was smiling.
“Hot.”
Need filled me, despite having just climaxed. The image of us together was doing funny things in my brain. “Take me to bed,” I said, my voice stronger than I thought it would be.
He’d told me he wasn’t finished, but he scooped me up into his arms anyway, carrying me the short distance to our bed. He laid me down, joining me on his side, careful not to put pressure on my bad leg. Our mouths were together before I could take a breath.
My mind wandered while we kissed. I’m in love with you, Cassie.
He’d said it, and he’d said it so well. He said it from his knees in front of me, like he was worshipping me, praying to me.
It spoke to how he saw himself. Let me. Did he know I was powerless to him, as well?
I hadn’t responded. Three little words would have been all I needed to say, and I left him wondering instead.
He could tell I was elsewhere and pulled back, just an inch.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked. His hand hadn’t moved from my face, but his eyes searched mine for answers.
“Sorry,” I said, kissing him again. He hesitated, weary of where my mind had gone.
“Cassie,” he growled. “If you’re good, then I’m good.” He spoke against my lips, unable to drag himself away. I understood how that felt.
“No, I want to,” I said. “I was just thinking about what you said.”
Elias laid his head down. “What about it?”
“I just. . . didn’t say anything. I let you do all of that to me.
It’s like you don’t care how I feel in return.
” I didn’t know how to say it now that the moment had passed.
I hadn’t said it when it counted, when he was vulnerable.
He let the moment pass to focus on me, on how he felt about me, regardless of what I felt about him.
It wouldn’t be right to let him touch me like that if I didn’t love him back, but he would let me take advantage of his feelings anyway.
“Of course I care, but I’m not here to drag it out of you. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
I took a deep breath. “Well, I love you. Too, also, in addition to you, uh, loving me.” He was so much smoother than I was.
“Good,” he said, grinning. “I’m glad we could clear that up.”
“Your declaration of love was way better.”
“This time around, you mean?”
He couldn’t remember the first time he said it, but it was still more graceful than mine. “No, it still sounded so good coming out of your mouth.”
He kissed me again. “Judging by the photos I sent myself, drunk me loves the fuck out of you.”
I stilled. “That’s literally what you said. That you love the fuck out of me.”
Elias’s smile hadn’t left his face. “That’s funny.”
“So, we love each other.”
“We do.”
I pulled him back to me, pressing our mouths together. It didn’t take long for the moment to change, to feel serious again.
My hand reached out to stroke him, and I couldn’t help but think it had to be painful to be that hard for that long.
Elias backed away, never letting me return the favor, pulling me with him to the edge of the bed.
“Let me know if it hurts.” He stacked pillows underneath me, lifting my body to better match his standing height.
This way, he wouldn’t be hitting my leg over and over like he would if he were on top of me.
I was splayed out for him, my hair spread out behind my head, my arms loose at my sides. He stood between my legs, hands on my hips, less than a step from being inside me.
“Picture perfect,” he said.
“Take one.”
He glanced at the door, weighing his options. Our phones were long since abandoned. “Next time.” He meant it, I knew he did.
Taking that final step forward, he entered me, exhaling as he did so. He was motionless inside of me for a breath, letting one of his hands roam to my breast. Squeezing gently, he centered himself before he started to move.
I was feeling sentimental with him inside of me.
It might have been the end in Russia, if the bullet had hit the inside of my thigh.
I wouldn’t have survived an artery being hit, not that far into the Arctic.
Elias knew it too, and had been thinking about it the entire trip home.
It was clear on his face, and through the conversation that we had snuggled up on Air Force One.
In the moment with him, I felt it all. How it felt to lay in his lap, the way I shivered when his fingers played with my hair.
The way his calloused hands gripped my hips and moved me where he needed.
The weight of his hand on the small of my back when we walked.
Everything was him and I, Cassie and Elias, love and lust.
Mouth on my breast, Elias was bent over me, his hips still moving. He hiked my leg up and filled me further, reaching deeper. My other breast bounced with each impact of him.
“So good,” he moaned against my chest.
I agreed, letting my own noises loose. I didn’t know how he could speak.
His hand moved on me between us, making sure he could bring me to climax again before he reached his own, but he remained slumped over me. My leg was trapped between us under his chest.
I felt myself tightening around him as I neared my orgasm, and he was too attuned to my body not to notice.
The pillows underneath me had dislodged, and he’d inched closer and closer to my mouth.
He reached up to meet my lips with his, and he kissed me while I came, my eyes squeezing so tight I saw colors behind my eyelids.
I clung to him, my hands on his neck and shoulders.
I cried out into his mouth, our lips clinging to each other in spite of how quickly Elias was pumping into me.
He had been waiting for me, and he let go, reaching his orgasm with me.
He grunted into my mouth and I ate it up greedily. Every sound he made was mine. All mine.
He looked down at me, holding himself up by one arm, and I looked back, admiring the sweat that beaded on his forehead. He worked hard to make me feel like this.
“You’re everything to me,” he said softly, kissing my forehead.
He pulled out of me, and reached into the bedside table to grab a few wipes. After cleaning us off, he collapsed into the bed with me, our legs hanging off the edge.
“Good game, babe. Good game.” He slapped my breast.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, smiling like a fool. I reached up to wipe my eyes, just noticing that they were wet.
“Are you crying?” Elias asked.
“I don’t think so.” I certainly didn’t remember crying. “I think my body is in shock because you’re so fucking good at everything.”
“I don’t think I’m good at everything,” he argued. “But I am good at you.”
“You’re great at saving my ass and you’re phenomenal in bed.” I tried to roll over and face him but he was on the wrong side, and I rolled directly onto the hole in my thigh.
“Careful, pretty girl,” he murmured. “I’ll be right back.”
Elias jumped out of the bed, so I shifted around, lying in a more reasonable position. Our home was silent, and I heard the little patter of his footsteps as he walked around the house. He returned, phone in hand, and laid beside me, warm skin against my own.
“Your mother is concerned because she can’t reach you,” he said, scrolling.
I scowled. “I told her that she wouldn’t be able to, and that I would call her when I could.”
“Should I tell her that? ‘Cassie says she told you that your texts wouldn’t go through. What is wrong with you, don’t you ever listen?’ I think she’d appreciate that.”
“No.”
Elias was shaking the bed with his laughter. “Okay, how about, ‘I just railed your daughter, and I’m trying to feed her. Leave me alone.’”
“Please don’t ever say anything like that to anyone, ever.” The only thing worse than telling the President about our escapades on a plane would be to tell my parents.
He snaked his arm under my neck, holding the phone in front of our faces. “I’m reasonable, look.”
Messages from my mother.
I cannot get through to Cassie. Please call.
Are you okay? These aren’t going through, either.
Frank and I are getting restless.
Elias sent a single text.
Home safe and exhausted. We want to visit soon, so get your itinerary started. We’ll call tomorrow.
He had so many unread messages from numbers that weren’t saved, notifications from apps that I’d never seen before. Mostly lying abandoned somewhere in our house, he didn’t use his cell phone enough for it to be getting this much attention. He scrolled, some of the unread texts a month old.
Locking the phone, he set it down on his chest. I groaned, my empty stomach grumbling.
“Sorry.” He opened it back up and worked on coming through on his promise. “Just a little excited, that’s all.”
“About?”
“You,” he said, turning his head to kiss me. “Alive and naked. My two favorite things. Now, the hard part is over with, and I can tell you that I love you all the time. The inside of my head is insane right now.”
I giggled. “I think you might be getting soft.”
“I’ve been soft for about ten minutes.”