She helped me to my feet, her grip firm but gentle. I stood, suddenly aware of how close we were, her breath warm against my cheek. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved away.
I turned my head, finding Ellie's mouth with mine. The kiss was tentative for only a heartbeat before she took control, her hand sliding to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my hair. She tasted like the wine we'd had with dinner, rich and heady.
The humid air of the solarium pressed against my skin as Ellie sank to her knees before me, her movements deliberate and confident. Her eyes never left mine as her fingers worked the button of my jeans, then the zipper. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet room.
She tugged my jeans down, taking my panties with them. The cool air against my exposed skin made me shiver.
Her hands slid up my thighs, spreading them wider. I gripped her shoulders, heart racing as her fingers traced patterns on my sensitive skin, moving higher with each pass.
When she finally traced her fingers across my slit, I gasped. Her eyes locked with mine, intense and focused, watching every reaction as her fingers moved with practiced precision. I couldn't look away, captivated by the power in her gaze, the control in her touch.
"You're beautiful," she murmured, her voice low and reverent as she worked me toward the edge, reading my body like a map she'd memorized.
She leaned forward. her tongue finding my clit with devastating precision. I gasped, gripping her shoulders, trying desperately to stay balanced and upright. Ellie hummed against my sex, the vibration sending shockwaves through my core. Her tongue traced patterns, each stroke calculated for maximum effect.
"God," I breathed, my head falling back.
She gripped my thighs, keeping me upright as my knees threatened to buckle. The wet heat of her mouth was relentless, her technique flawless. She knew exactly when to increase pressure, when to ease back, when to focus on that perfect spot that made my vision blur.
I looked down, watching her work between my legs. The sight of her—so controlled, so focused—pushed me closer to the edge. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, and the intensity in them stole my breath.
"I'm going to—" I couldn't finish the sentence as pleasure crashed through me. My fingers tangled in her hair, holding her against me as I rode out the waves.
When I could think again, I tugged gently at her shoulders. "Come here. Let me touch you."
Ellie rose to her feet in one fluid motion, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "No."
"But I want to—"
"This isn't about what you want." Her voice was soft but firm as she straightened my clothes with practiced efficiency. "This is about what you need."
I reached for the button of her pants, but she caught my wrist, her grip gentle but unyielding.
"Not tonight." She pressed a kiss to my palm before releasing it. "Some other time, maybe."
The promise hung between us, tantalizing and uncertain.
I fumbled with my clothes in the dark, my fingers still trembling as I pulled up my underwear and jeans. The button slipped through my fingers twice before I managed to fasten it.
"Who was on the phone to Alex?" I asked, trying to sound casual while my heart still raced from what had just happened between us.
Ellie took a step back, creating space where moments ago there had been none. Her silhouette shifted against the darkness as she shrugged. "None of our business until Alex decides to tell us."
"You looked worried," I pressed, reaching out to touch her arm. The cotton of her sleeve felt cool under my fingertips, a stark contrast to the heat of her skin minutes earlier.
She moved just slightly, not enough to break contact but enough to make it clear the moment had passed. When she spoke, her voice had returned to that professional tone I'd grown to recognize.
"I'm not worried," she said, each word precise and measured. "And it's not your job to worry about whether I'm worried."
The air between us cooled rapidly. I could almost feel the walls rebuilding brick by brick.
"My job is to keep you alive," she continued. "Your job is to stay alive."
She gestured toward the glass walls surrounding us, now just black mirrors reflecting our shadowy forms. "Not sitting in a glass room with the light on at night would make both of our jobs easier."
I nodded, though I wasn't sure she could see it. "I understand."
"Good." She moved toward the door, her footsteps nearly silent on the tile floor. "We should get back."
