I thrust, and though it’s tight and I should let her adjust, I don’t. I slam all the way home and her eyes fall closed, her head tipping backward.
“Elijah,” she whispers, wrapping her legs around me, and I can already feel my release coming, a silver thread of tension stiffening my spine.
Not yet, not yet.
I capture her mouth, thrusting hard a second time and a third. Her thighs shake. That silver thread in my spine is molten now, liquid, and no longer a thread at all but a tidal wave.
“I’m going to come so fucking hard,” I whisper, half warning and half apology. I’m going to come, and I can’t stop it.
She clamps down around me the next time I bottom out.
“Coming,” she cries, and I can’t hold anything back for a second more. I release inside her, jerking and desperate, stealing her breath with my mouth as she gasps, and Jesus Christ, she has ruined me for anyone else.
But I guess I knew that long ago.
31
EASTON
Elijah’s palm slides over my stomach, then cups a breast, before he rolls me to my side, my spine to his chest.
“Can I tell you something?” he whispers. “Because I feel sort of bad about it.”
I brace for whatever he’s about to say:I’ve been dating someone else.This shouldn’t have happened. “Okay.”
“I came in your bikini bottoms.”
I laugh. “What?”
“A few days ago, you left them hanging off the hook...I was thinking about coming in your panties that night on the pool table, and one thing led to another, and?—”
I laugh again as I look over my shoulder at him. “Oh my God.That’swhy you washed them.”
“Are you disgusted?”
I picture him standing in the shower, with them wrapped around his cock. Or sitting on the counter. Or...“Were you standing or sitting?”
He raises a brow. “I did not think that was going to be your primary concern.”
“It’s not a concern, idiot. I’m trying to picture it because it’s hot. If I had panties on at the moment, I’d have you do it all over again.”
He yanks my ass against him. He’s already hard.
“Fuck, Easton,” he groans. “You’re going to regret telling me that.”
I lift my thigh, letting him slide against my folds. I’m soaked from the sex we just had. More soaked by the conversation. He glides back and forth easily. Already my breath is coming short. “I don’t think I’m going to regret it,” I whisper.
I should probably returnto my own bed. It’s nearly dawn, and I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve done all of the things.
Just...not yet. Once I get out of this bed, it’s done, and I love this too much—lying on Elijah’s chest, with my thigh slung across his, while his hand runs circles along my spine. As if we’re a couple. As if this is somehow going to last.
I’m not sure if he realizes what he’s doing. Maybe he thinks I’m smart enough now not to get my hopes up about him. He’d be wrong. I’m not that smart.
“It pisses me off that I wasn’t your first,” he says. “It was Mark, wasn’t it? Mark Patton?”
I shrug. “If it’s any consolation, it was really bad. Further consolation should be that if you’d been my first it would’ve been illegal.”
He raises a brow. “Or you could’ve waited.”
