Chapter Twenty-Five
MAC
Spent. I’d heard the word before but never really appreciated it until Ella was draped over my sofa, whimpering my name.
‘Again.’A-fucking-gain. ‘One more time for me, sweet girl.’ My hands punishingly tight on her arse, I’d refused let up or slow my pace. I wanted her delirious and chanting my name. Needed, on some fucked-up level, to prove she needed me, not that fucker Will. I also wanted to fuck her so badly, I was at risk of embarrassing myself. But no matter how I wanted to sink into her slick, warm heat, her first time wasn’t going to be bent over the back of a sofa. When we got to that point, I’d take my time. She’d waited this long, and I would make sure it was an experience she wouldn’t forget.
One neither of us would.
As she’d orgasmed a second time and her cries turned hoarse, I’d moved her to face me, leaning her back against the sofa. I’d taken her trembling body in my arms and painted her lips with her own arousal. Fed her her own taste from my tongue.
Then I’d peeled off her bra, and she’d protested as I’d picked her up and carried her to her own bedroom, though her arms had eventually slid around my neck. I’d paused at my bedroom door, but decided it wasn’t the best course of action for saving her virginity for another day.
In her room, I’d peeled back the bedding and lowered her to the mattress, and she’d watched me with dark, languid eyes as I’d removed her high heels.I’ll have her naked and in heels another time, I told myself as I’d tucked her under the covers.
‘Stay, please.’
‘That’s not a good idea.’
‘But want you,’ she’d murmured, holding her hands up for me. It reminded me of Louis and then all she’d done for me. So I’d bent down and kissed her head.
‘And you’ll have me.’ My whispered words were strained, my thoughts not as pure as I’d like them to be as my cock ached for release and relief. ‘You’ll have all of me. But not now.’
As she’d stretched out in the bed, the sheet moulded to her body. It had taken every ounce of restraint not to lift it—to climb in next to her. To take her in my arms and kiss her to readiness again. To hear her cry out as I thrust into her, knowing there would always be a piece of her that was mine.
But she deserved better. And I planned to give it to her.All. Night. Long.
‘Sleep, sweet girl. We’ll talk in the morning.’ And despite her protesting, her eyes flickered closed.
Back in the living room, I’d picked up her clothes and folded them while considering her taste in lingerie.No cotton knickers for her, it seemed. I’d put away the whisky bottle, rinsed my glass, then turned in. Though not before abusin’ myself in the shower with thoughts of her whispers and moans playing through my head.
And now, the following morning, Ella can’t seem to look me in the face. She bustles about, clearing the remains of Louis’s breakfast as he sits on a high stool eating chocolate cereal with the little rat Charles, begging at his feet.
‘Oi, I saw that,’ I say, pulling up the stool chair next to his. ‘Don’t feed the dog cereal. It’s not good for him.’
‘He’s right, Louis. We don’t want another case of explosive diarrhea.’ Her eyes flick to Louis then me just once before concentrating on a piece of toast she’s destroying.By fingers rather than teeth.
‘What happened?’
‘Charles stealed some yucky chicken,’ Louis replies, ‘and he pooped everywhere.’ He throws out his arms expansively, dashing my clean shirt in chocolate lumps.
‘That was me, wasn’t it?’ I turn to Ella, attempting to brush away the bit of half-masticated mush. ‘I left the chicken out the other night.’ Her only confirmation is a slight nod as she grabs a cloth from the sink. ‘Ah, shit. I’m so—’
‘Shivers!’ she interjects, handing me the cloth, taking great care to make sure our fingers don’t touch. ‘We say shivers when we’ve made a mistake.’ Her eyes hold mine only for a moment before sliding to her toast again.
‘Or sugar,’ adds Louis. ‘Shivers or sugar but nevermerdeor shit,’ he says, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head.
‘Louis!’ By her expression, she’s not too annoyed. Or surprised.
‘But you saidallthe bad words yesterday when Charles pooped.’
Ella looks on open mouthed and bright red.
‘Ella’s right. We shouldn’t say bad words, but sometimes, they just slip out. In fact, sometimes it’s just better to leave the room and say the devil’s prayer when there’s no one around. Maybe that’s what Ella should’ve done. Or maybe she doesn’t know the devil’s prayer. That’s probably what the problem was.’
‘What’s the debil’s prayer?’ he asks.
‘My granddad taught it to me, and it’s only to be used when you’re really cross and there’s no one else around. You have to save it for when you’re really, really annoyed.’
