His heart thumped against her forehead. Her favorite rhythm in the world.
And then she tipped her head back and looked up at him, and his eyes were a little wet, too.
She tentatively, softly, touched a finger to his mouth, softly traced it. She was aware only then of how well she knew the shape of it, how she could have drawn it with her eyes closed.
“You’re a big one for speeches, Eli,” she murmured. “But that’s what you’re all about, isn’t it? Speeches.”
She knew he knew why she said it. It gave both of them the excuse they wanted.
His mouth came down hard over hers.
She met that kiss with all the fire and fury in her.
It began as a point to be made. A battle and release. Almost a punishment.
And they took it deep, fast. They each had a little quiver full of erotic tricks they knew to drive each other to that precarious edge of control. But as his hands threaded through her hair, she tipped her head back into the cradle of them, that kiss was searching, tender, and then carnal as hell, driven by what felt like eons of thwarted desire finally unleashed, and she felt herself dissolving into smoke. In an instant, she was his in any way he wanted her.
Lust ripped control right out of their grasp. His mouth never left hers as he reached for her zipper and yanked it down, and she got hold of the top button of his jeans and all but tore at them, and all the rest of his buttons slid cooperatively open.
Practical blue boxers were tented by a huge hard cock and she slid her hands inside, dragged them over the hot, pulsing length.
He hissed an oath of pleasure.
He pulled her jeans down a little, to her hips, and with nearly brutal and unbearably delicious efficiency slid his hand down the front of them, and she gasped, arching into his touch.
In a bit of deftly executed sexual jujitsu he swiped another hand swiftly down her front and click! Her bra popped open. He tugged her shirt from her jeans and slipped his hands down the back, scooping her up to press against his hard cock, his mouth against her throat, his hips moving to grind against her in torturously slow, deliberate exquisite rhythm, as the kiss grew wild and searching, a clash of teeth, the twining of tongues. He moaned her name.
It became purposeful as she moved with him, seeking her own pleasure. Rocking and grinding. It hurt a little, but it was exquisite. She ducked her head against his throat, and reached for the waistband on his boxers to tug them all the way down... but she hesitated.
And he covered her hand with his.
And then... they both went still. Utterly, carefully, still.
She wasn’t sure what had happened, but some well of pure sense she didn’t know she possessed had risen up and stopped her.
She could still feel the sway of his breath against her body.
“Nowdo you understand what we’re playing with here?” He whispered this close to her lips. It was almost an apology.
“Yep,” she said dryly. Her voice was a thread. “It’s all pretty clear.”
He exhaled.
She looked up at him. She thought she would never forget his expression for as long as she lived: the tenderness and ferocity and pride, the ache. He smoothed a hair that had lashed itself across her lips behind her ear.
“So no more games,” he said softly. “When you’re certain, when you really know who and what you want, come to me. And ask for it. Ask forme. In a real and true way. Not because you’re pissed off or hurt or sad or horny or lonely. But just. Because. It’s me. And, Glory... it’ll be the best thing that ever happens to you.” His mouth tipped at the corner in a cocky smile.
“Big talk, Eli.”
She was half teasing. Half broken.
“You think I’m lying?” He whispered right into her ear and then touched his tongue there again.
She didn’t say a word. She shivered from the pleasure rippling through her, and her body protested at the sheer lunacy of letting this pleasure machine named Eli get away.
“Look in my eyes, Glory. Do you think I ever lie about anything?”
She looked into his eyes. “Nope,” she said, quite sincerely.
