Chapter Forty-One #2
His gaze scraped over my body. “Please let me eat your cunt.”
I sat up partly, and the sight of him standing there, panting for me, that filthy word fresh on his lips . . . it was vulgar and exciting. Exciting enough to edge the uncertainty out of my brain. “Okay.”
Then he was crowding over me, his thigh heavy between my legs. His fingers mapped a course along the line of my jaw, his thumb tracing my lips. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. “And I won’t be a gentleman about it.”
I lifted my head, unable to wait any longer. My lips nearly brushed his, but he pulled back with a taunting grin. That was all it took for me to reach up and pull him to me. Our lips collided with enough impact to bruise. We were teeth and tongues and swallowed moans.
He pulled back for a moment and held my neck as he panted in my ear. “It’s been a while,” he admitted. “And god, you’re so fucking sexy. I don’t know how long I’m going to last.”
A streak of bravery chased through me and I reached down between us to rub my hand over his erection.
His forehead lolled into the dip of my shoulder with a grunt. “If you don’t stop that I’m going to come in my pants like a teenage boy.”
I laughed softly as I gripped him tightly. “That long, huh?”
“It doesn’t help that I’ve dreamed of having you again for the last nineteen years.” He ground his thigh between my legs and surely he could feel how wet I was.
I whimpered in response. My body was on fire as the sun began to stretch across the room in earnest now, turning us into shadows. I pulled my shirt off over my head and his hungry lips dragged across every bit of newly exposed skin.
There was no darkness left to hide in and I was a woman driven by need. That was the only excuse for how ready and willing I was for him to see me—fully see me.
But then my brain caught up to my body and my hands froze. Something in my expression must have given me away, because Eli tucked a stray hair behind my ear and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I—I’ve never been a small person. I know that.”
His eyes hardened, as though he was prepared to rebuke whatever it was that I might say.
“But my body is—it’s a forty-year-old body, Eli. My tits aren’t perky and my rolls used to be soft and—cute. Like a Botticelli.” I shook my head. “Of course I didn’t think that then. But now I have the kind of stretch marks you can’t hide and I’m lumpy and—”
He pressed a finger to my lips and drove his erection against me.
“I don’t want the girl you used to be, Vera.
I want the woman you are. There is no polite way for me to tell you that your body is so arousing I had to take three cold showers the day after you moved in.
” His hand left my mouth as he lay beside me, our legs still twisted together.
“I’m not going to tell you that you have to love yourself before anyone else can, because that’s bullshit.
If that were true we’d all be waiting around for the rest of our lives.
But I need you to believe me when I tell you that I am deeply attracted to you and your body. ”
My options were to give in to this doubt or move on. That was it. There were only two paths forward.
“Okay,” I whispered.
Each of Eli’s hands cupped one of my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. “Perfect.” His finger followed the line of a dark stretch mark that spanned from under my arm to my breast. “Goddamn perfect.”
He dipped his head down and licked along my chest, careful not to touch my nipples as his beard brushed against my skin.
I threw my head back at the cool drag of his tongue. “More,” I whispered.
His mouth covered my nipple then as he looked up from beneath hooded eyes and sucked.
After doing the same to the other breast, he danced his fingers along the waistband of my underwear for a moment before I lifted my hips for him to pull them off.
His intent green eyes held mine as he ran one finger up my slit before pressing in, his finger brushing against my clitoris. “That’s it,” he said.
He sunk down to his knees, his free hand sweeping over my body and then to my inner thigh. “I’m going to make this feel so good for you, Vera. I’m going to ruin all other men for you.”
“That’s some big talk,” I said as he pulled one of my legs over his shoulder and then dragged me down the bed by my hips.
“I’m done talking.” And then his mouth was on me, spreading me apart with the flat of his greedy tongue and his facial hair scraping against my inner thighs.
“Oh—oh my god,” I rasped as I instinctively squirmed up the bed, trying to escape the torturous, teetering pleasure.
Eli pressed a hand to my pubic bone, keeping me right where he wanted me. In the past, Brody had been exploratory and timid, but Eli was purposeful and relentless. His tongue stiffened against my clit before sucking down on the collection of nerves.
He lifted his head for a moment, his chin glistening with my arousal. “If this were my last meal, I could die happy.”
A smile tipped my lips and I laughed. This was . . . fun. The doubt and the worries had seeped to the edges of my brain.
I tugged his hair, pulling him back down to me.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, each syllable tickling my inner thighs.
He eagerly tended to me again, licking and sucking. A moan broke from my chest as he slid two fingers past my entrance, curling them against my inner walls. The sensation stretched every muscle in my body taut like a canvas. Tension curled in my belly.
“Eli,” I panted. “Eli. I’m—”
“Come for me, love.” He maintained his rhythm as I shamelessly sought out my orgasm. A satisfied warmth spiraled from my core to the tips of my toes.
He stayed there for a moment kissing up and down my thighs as I unwound, every muscle in my body turning limp.
“Goddamn it,” he said as he stood, kicking off his pants and stroking his cock and licking his lips, eyes dark and a little amused.
He’d made good on his promise to ruin me.
“I want to fuck you so bad, but I’m going to come, Vera.
It’s been a while and it’s . . . you. When I fuck you, I plan on taking my time. ”
I wanted to give him what he gave me. It was the only thought I had as I slid off the edge of the bed and onto my knees. Tilting my head back against the bed, I wrapped my hands around the backs of his thighs and pulled him to me, his swollen dick bobbing inches from my lips.
“You don’t even have to—I’m going to—”
But I didn’t give him a moment to finish. Instead I gripped his cock and began to polish the head of his penis with my tongue, teasing him gently.
His hand went to the back of my head, fisting my hair as he let out a painful noise. I opened my lips fully then, letting him sink all the way in to the back of my throat.
“Vera, fuck, baby . . . I’m going to come . . .” He tried to pull out, but I didn’t let him.
I wanted to share this deeply intimate moment with him even if I didn’t know what would happen when we inevitably woke up in a few hours. Even though I’d told him that I wouldn’t pretend it all away. I wanted this one moment even if, in the end, we were too complicated and impossible to untangle.
His fingers tightened in my hair as his warmth emptied down my throat.
He let out a painful grunt as he tilted my head back and watched me with awe, my lips wrapped around him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he shuddered one last time before pulling out and crumpling to the floor in front of me.
Without any hesitation, he pulled me to him, his lips caressing mine.
I hated that most of my other sexual experiences were with Brody and so I kept comparing the two.
But Brody would never kiss me after what I’d just done.
I always rushed to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and, already half asleep, he would call me a good girl.
But it made me feel anything but good. It made me feel dirty, the same way I did when he attempted to go down on me just frequently enough to make himself feel like oral sex was a two-way street.
Eli sat back on the carpet and pulled me between his legs. His kisses were soft as he stroked my cheek and rubbed up and down my spine.
When he pulled away, my lips moved silently, searching for a way to tell him I wasn’t ready for him to let go. But I was immediately sated as he tucked my head against his chest and placed a collection of kisses against my hair.
“No disappearing,” he muttered. “If we go to sleep, I can’t wake up to find that you’ve disappeared.”
I nodded, because even if it was messy and scary, I didn’t want to disappear either.
ELIAS BUCKLEY
NINETEEN YEARS AGO
THE MORNING AFTER
I was normally a fitful sleeper. My exes rarely stayed the night because I’d never been a good bed partner.
But that night with Vera, my limbs were heavy from the adrenaline crash and something that felt like serenity. At one point in the early hours of the morning, my body jerked awake as I tried to recall where I was.
It took a moment to realize the warmth radiating beside me was a nearly naked Vera tangled in the sheets, her body curled against my side.
I was hard again, but she looked too peaceful for me to wake.
Wisps of hair curled around her ear and after a moment of memorizing this feeling, I settled down with her back pressed against my chest and fell asleep.
* * *
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” a voice said in a hushed shout. “Wake up. Eli! Wake. Up.”
My response was delayed, but eventually I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I glanced down to find the blankets had been ripped from the bed and Vera was pacing the length of the room, wrapped in hotel bedding.
Our rented wedding clothes littered the floor and the newlyweds’ cake sat on the side table where we left it, stuck with two forks and most of the cherries missing.
Oh god. Panic gripped me. What if Vera . . . what if she was more drunk last night than I thought? What if she woke up and didn’t realize what had happened?
“Are you okay?” I asked, pulling a pillow into my lap. “Do you want to talk—”