“Yes, that incident. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel going forward, all things considered. You were right to call me a coward.”
She lets her eyes fall, and her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip. “Could I finish my audition? Just for you?”
My breathing hitches, oxygen scattering in my lungs. I nod, hypnotized by the way her eyes glisten with the praise. She gently pushes me back and hops off the desk, then turns and shoves me against it.
I catch myself with my palms on the edge, staring at her.
When she sinks to her knees, my heart skips a beat.
“Elle,” I warn, my fingers curling.
“It’s okay,” she promises. “I want to. Please?”
Torn, my gaze flickers toward the door, then back. “This is a terrible idea.”
“The best adventures usually start as one.” She begins the short crawl forward, shouldering her way between my thighs. “‘Here I kneel, if e’er my will did trespass ’gainst his love.’”
The recitation is soft, rasped low enough that passersby won’t likely be able to hear, but I feel the vibrations in my veins anyway. I glance at the door, which is unlocked, as she sits up, reaching for the fly of my pants.
My hands cramp with the urge to turn her away.
They don’t.
A heavy breath rattles from my chest when she pops the button open and slides the zipper down slowly, each tooth set free sending a spray of goose bumps over my skin.
There’s a long, weighted pause. She looks up at me through hooded lashes. “Is this okay?”
I release a stuttered breath. Clear my throat. “Yes. Anything you do is, Elle.”
Tucking pieces of hair behind her ears, she leans in. “‘Either in discourse of thought or actual deed, or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, delighted them in any other form,’” she continues, gripping my waistband and nodding for me to lift my hips.
When she slips my pants down to my knees, I feel like I might fucking die. I’m already hard as goddamn stone and can feel myself leaking, so unbelievably wanton and needy. She slides her fingers over my boxer briefs, then leans forward to run her tongue along the fabric, chasing the length of my cock.
Her gaze becomes ravenous as the contact makes me twitch.
“‘Or that I do not yet, and ever did.’” Slowly, she pinches the material and begins dragging it down my hips, revealing my erection.
I swallow.
She does too.
“‘And ever will—though he do shake me off to beggarly divorcement—love him dearly.’” She drops her voice to a mere breath, as if mesmerized by the sight before her. When she takes it in her palm, giving me a firm pump at the base with fingers that barely touch around, I jerk into the movement, so unaccustomed to this kind of free exploration.
But gone are any of the thoughts of disgust or fear or memories that I usually dissociate with at times like this.
Right here, right now, it’s just Elle.
Not a magical cure, but a soft balm against the tide of horror.
Her skin is so hot compared to the icy surface of my own as I lift my hand, cupping the underside of her jaw before sliding forward and rubbing her lips with my thumb.
A silent request. Something I’ve never thought to ask for in my life.
She parts her mouth, covering the tip of my digit. Sucking it in and laving her tongue over my fingerprint.
I grit my teeth, my cock throbbing painfully. My fingers are a little numb, but nothing that dulls the sensation of her. I’m not sure anythingcould.
“‘Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much,’” she says around me, spreading the precum seeping from my slit around the crown. She teases the tip, and my eyes roll back into my head. “‘And his unkindness may defeat my life, but never taint my love.’”
