She rested on her elbows, eyes locked on mine, daring me to lose control. Then she brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them before returning them to her clit. My entire body tightened as I watched her mouth fall open. The sound of her moan was like fire in my veins, and I couldn’t tear my gaze from her.
Heavens forgive me.
Our eyes met as we moved in perfect rhythm, a dangerous, unspoken connection pulsing between us. Her eyes closed tightly, red creeping up her chest, and I could see she was on the edge. I was close too—so close I could taste it on my lips, feel it hammering in my gut.
Her mouth fell open, her head tilting back as her fingers moved faster.
“I’m going to cum,” she moaned, and my chest tightened, my heart hammering like it would burst.
“Let me see you fall apart, Elowyn,” I demanded, and her eyes opened to meet mine, burning with need. "Eyes stay on me."
“You’re going to cum on me,” she said, voice sharp, intoxicating. That confidence, that control, made something inside me snap."Did you hear me?"
“Yes,” I sighed, my entire body on fire. Her eyes clouded with pleasure, and when her orgasm hit, with her whimpering my name, it drove me over the edge. Her eyes fluttered shut, a sharp inhale turning into a helpless exhale as pleasure claimed her, and the way she said my name unraveled me completely.
I stood up, stroking myself as I stared into her eyes, every nerve alight, every sensation magnified. My orgasm hit like a storm, stars exploding in my vision. My cum streaked across her stomach and breasts, and I felt both devoured and haunted by the sight.
When I was done, I collapsed into the chair, chest heaving. She sat up, and my gaze couldn’t leave her, couldn’t leave the way my release dripped over her soft, warm skin. I was dizzy with need, desire, and something dangerously close to awe.
Elowyn was watching me closely. Her eyes searched mine, hesitant, full of something fragile, hope, maybe, or trust. She seemed nervous as she lifted her hand, and it shook slightly as she reached for my face. My chest twisted painfully, every nerve screaming to close the distance, to take her hand, but instinct, the last scrap of restraint I had left, made me jerk away.
Her hand snapped back like I had struck her. The motion was small, almost imperceptible, but the sudden drop of her gaze to the floor hit me like a punch. I felt hollow, like I’d just shoved a knife through something delicate inside her. She looked smaller somehow, deflated, and I could almost hear the unspoken question lingering between us:Why? Why did you pull away?
Elowyn hesitated for a moment, the faintest tremor in her posture. It was as if she was giving me a chance, maybe forwords, maybe for a touch, maybe for me to prove I wasn’t as cold as I’d made her feel, but I froze. My throat tightened, my chest burned, and I felt my own cowardice crush me from the inside out.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t wait for an answer. She stood up, moving with careful, quiet movements, and grabbed her clothes. I watched her go into the washroom, heart in my throat, a hollow ache settling deep in my chest.
When she came out a few minutes later, she didn’t look at me. Not once. Her eyes avoided mine as she crossed the room, each step a silent confirmation that I had broken something between us. I heard the soft sound of her crawling onto the couch, the faint rustle of fabric, and then silence.
I was fucked.
Not because I wanted her, but because I’d just proven I didn’t deserve her.
Chapter 10
Elowyn
By the end of the week, it was clear Abram had buried what happened. I took the hint. If he could erase it so easily, I refused to be the one who begged for what he didn’t want.
But no matter how hard I tried, the image of him looking terrified of me touching him continued to hit me all over again and repeatedly made me feel like shit. The thought of my touch making him recoil in disgust constantly clawed at my chest.
He had looked like that was the last thing he wanted, and it hurt my feelings to see his eyes fill with… regret. He didn’t truly want me and had just been caught in the moment. The backs of my eyes burned with unshed tears when I thought about it. I refused to let them fall.
He came home every night like he was expecting me to be waiting in bed for him. But I was usually sitting on the couch, reading or pretending to. His eyes always lingered on me for a long moment. There was no way I was making the first move again, and he clearly would never make a move either.
On this particular night, I glanced up when Abe returned from the bedroom. His jaw was clenched, and his entire body looked tense. He seemed on edge, like he was fighting some inner-battle I couldn’t see.
For a fleeting moment, my mind betrayed me. I caught a flash of a memory, him, alone in the dim light of his bedroom, hand moving over himself, eyes shut tight, flushed with need. My stomach fluttered, and my cheeks warmed. My chest tightened at the intimate, impossible image, and I bit my lip, trying to push it away.
I shouldn’t be thinking that,I scolded myself, but I couldn’t stop the warmth pooling low in my stomach, the ache of wanting him so desperately. What had he been thinking of?
“How was your day?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
He looked at me from the kitchen and relaxed slightly.
“It was uneventful. What did you do today?” His question felt like a probe, like he was trying to gauge something private about me, and it made my pulse stutter.
I shrugged. “Nothing, just a little gardening.” I stood up and stretched, trying to shove the memory away. “I’m actually going to go to town and grab some things we need for the house. I’ll be back.”
