My body stiffens, my hands pushing at his shoulders until he pulls back. I drag in a breath, forcing myself to twist the tenderness into something I can survive. I need lust, not longing. Need, not vulnerability.
A transaction of bodies and nothing more.
His eyes search mine for a second, and I see the flicker of hurt that cuts across his face before he shutters it away.
It lances through me, but I shove it down and focus on the press of his body and the friction I want.
Anything but that look.
His jaw tightens before his hand comes up to circle my throat once more. His gaze burns into mine as his thumb brushes lazily across the hollow of my throat.
“I’m going to need you to scream my name one more time,” he rasps out, “so I can fully commit the sound of it to memory.”
The words send a shiver slicing through me, sharp enough to make my pulse stutter against his hand. Before I can reply, he spins us, hauling me back onto the bed and forcing me onto my knees. He presses a hand onto my back until my chest is flush with the sheets, leaving my ass high in the air.
His grip brands my hips as he drives into me again from a standing position, every thrust slamming the air from my lungs until all that’s left are broken sounds. My body trembles as I doubt my ability to have another orgasm, my nails digging into the sheets as he proves me wrong.
Within minutes I’m clenching around him as another orgasm crashes through me.
He grunts, pounding me through it, his fingers bruising my hips until his rhythm falters. A guttural curse rips free as he pulls out at the last second. Warmth splashes across my ass, his breath ragged as he finishes, one hand still locked on my hip.
For a moment, the only sound is our heavy breathing as I glance back at him over my shoulder.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, eyes dragging over my ass, reverent and possessive all at once. “What a beautiful sight.”
His words would have sent my body flying with need if he hadn’t just wrung every bit of satisfaction from me already. My body hums with exhaustion, my chest heaving as I fight to steady my breath.
I collapse forward on the bed. My muscles tremble with how spent my body feels, the echoes of release still sparking weakly through me.
Warmth drips slowly down the curve of my ass, sticky and unmistakable. I roll my eyes, too exhausted to summon any real bite as I mumble, “You better wipe it off with a towel. The bathroom's right there.”
Elias only laughs under his breath as he watches me with that signature wicked look. He shakes his head slowly and deliberately, like he’s savoring the chance to deny me.
“No,” he finally says. “I think I like the thought of it on your skin…claiming you.”
For a moment all I can do is stare at him, shocked that he’d even admit that out loud. Before I can force my numb brain into formulating a response, he’s already tugging his clothes back on.
When his shirt is back in place, he looks at me again, eyes still molten with heat from everything we just did. “Do you want me to stay?”
The question takes me off guard and for a moment I want to say yes, so I don’t have to be alone again so soon. But the memory of his mouth softening against mine, of the gentleness I couldn’t let myself feel slams through me and I shake my head.
I can’t let that in.
“No.” I snap the word too quickly and with a harsher tone than I intended, but I can’t take it back.
His jaw clenches once before he mutters under his breath, “Never thought I’d be the one used for my body and tossed out, but I get it.”
The words cut in a way I don’t expect, leaving me hollow even as I cling to the fragile wall I’ve forced between us.
I drag myself upright, every muscle heavy and trembling, and push unsteadily toward the bathroom. The thought of a scalding shower is the only thing keeping me moving. I don’t notice him crossing the room until his shadow falls over me. His hand catches my chin, firm enough to tip my face up, and my breath hitches at the suddenness of it.
“We both know I’m not good with comfort,” he says, those blue eyes unflinching as they bore into me. “But if you just need someone to sit with you, come find me, okay?”
The words tug at something in my chest and for a fleeting second, I see the uncertainty in his eyes. As if he’s warring with giving me the space I’m saying I want, or sayingto hell with it, and doing what he wants.
Before I can respond, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to my forehead. The warmth of it lingers as he straightens, turns on his heel, and stalks out of the room.
The door shuts behind him with a solid click, leaving me standing in the ruin of my room and the wreckage of everything we just did, wondering if I’m more of a mess than before he walked in.
