He presses his hand into my back, fixing me in place once I start to writhe, and power pulses between my legs, my thighs clenching around his hand.
He curses in response, rewarding me with sweet words.
“Fuck, yes. That’s my girl.”
My stomach twists at the sound of his claim, and I gasp as a shockwave spreads from my core down to my toes, causing every muscle to tighten.
“Say it again,” I plead.
His fingers move faster, and his grip grows murderous, but the words come quiet, whispered directly into my ear.
“That’s my girl.”
I shout his name when I find my release, and Elliot’s hand comes around my mouth as I come harder than I ever thought possible.
Crying into his palm, he absorbs the waves rolling through me, and his movement doesn’t slow until I lie spent across the desk, covered in sweat, body pulsing. But he’s not ready to leave, and I’m not ready to return to the hollow feeling, so we sit there a moment, fingers soaking in my heat as he brushes the hair from my face and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“You alright?” he asks, running his hand down my arm.
I’m a little sweaty, and my legs feel like foam, but otherwise, I’m better than I was ten minutes ago.
“Yeah,” I mutter, face flush and slightly embarrassed.
I’ve come to the strum of Elliot’s fingers almost a hundred times, but never have I felt quite as desperate as I did just now.
“I’m okay,” I mutter. “I just…I forgot…”
My words fail to manifest, replaced by a helpless sound as he slides free.
“You did so good,” he says, standing me upright and straightening my skirt.
He turns me in place before reaching around to grab a tissue from the little box on the desk, and I stand there in stunned silence as he wipes my thighs clean.
“I want you to go put some pants on and meet me downstairs, okay?”
My face twitches, the heat of his touch quickly wearing off.
“Why?” I ask. “Afraid someone will see what’s ‘yours?’”
Elliot smiles that dazzling grin full of sharp teeth and metal, and some of my temper simmers.
“Yes, princess. But mostly I figured you wouldn’t want to walk around bare assed. That skirt is pretty short.”
He holds up my panties in demonstration. The little string that holds the front and the back together has snapped in half, but he’s quick to stuff them in his pocket before I can snatch them back.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, trying to save face. “I’m just going home.”
Elliot’s brows dip.
“No, you’re not,” he corrects me.
“What do you mean?”
“I told you there’s a howl tonight,” he says.
“Yeah, but I thought it was pack only?”
“It is.”
