His rhythm breaks, thrusts turning uneven, more urgent, each one pushing deeper past my lips. I can feel how close he is in the way his body tightens, the way his grip in my hair turns possessive. Saliva slips the corner of my mouth, warm against my chin, and I focus on relaxing my throat, on taking him as he slides in again and again.
He's everywhere, filling my mouth, and I breathe through it, grounding myself on the sound of his husky voice, the way he says my name like I’m some goddess he only worships.
For a few ruthless seconds, he tightens his hold in my hair before he finally pulls me away. My hand slips from him, a thin string of spit stretching between us.
“Stand up.”
I do; my legs shake beneath me.
He moves in close, turning me and pushing me back against the desk. I grab the edge, knuckles whitening, as he fists himself and shifts forward, sliding between my breasts.
Thank god for the height difference.
“Hold them together,” he growls through clenched teeth.
I obey, hands trembling as the desk digs into my spine, my skin slick where he moves against me. His breathing breaks, filling the room.
“Fuckkkk. You have the prettiest tits.”
I love his mouth. No guy has ever been this vocal, apart from the occasional grunt.
He braces his hands on the desk behind me, forcing me to arch my back. I’m right on the edge of cracking my head against the wood when his palm slides behind my skull, steadying me just in time.
Moving against me, his hardness sliding up and down brutally, like he's already gone past the point of stopping. Then he breaks.
I gasp out loud as warmth splashes over my skin, down my chest, along my throat and chin. Elijah shouts my name and crashes his mouth onto mine without hesitation, not caring that he's pressed against the mess he's made on me.
For a moment, we don't move. He's heavy against me, pinning me in place, the room filled with nothing but the sound of our breathing. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might shake me apart.
Carefully, he shifts back just enough to look at me, his expression changing as the intensity eases into something softer, something careful.
“You okay?”
“Peachy.” That's all I can muster up because my brain is completely fried, and there are no better words left.
“I've never lost control like that before.”
He eases back, then draws me up with him, arms folding around me without hesitation, and the mess doesn't matter. I sink into his chest, cheek pressed over his heart, listening to the rhythm. The calm that settles in my bones, my soul, surprises me. Like the day hadn't been full of spiralling thoughts and quiet tears.
“I didn't mean to hurt your back,” he says after a moment. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Don't be. I liked it.”
I cradle his face, cupping his cheeks. “I won't break. Even if your dick is very intimidating, I might need a serious pep talk before it penetrates my insides.”
His eyes light up with amusement as he shows me his perfect teeth. “Give yourself all the pep talks you want. Soon enough, your body's going to know my cock very well.”
He swipes his thumb along my chin, then lifts it between us. Without thinking, I lean in and take his finger in my mouth, closing my lips around it, sucking gently.
The sound he makes is low and rough as he pulls his hand free and scoops me up, strong arms lifting me. “That's enough,” he grumbles, already moving. “We're getting you cleaned up and home before I bend you over my desk and make a mess of your perfect ass.”
I laugh as he spins toward the door, heart light, body buzzing.
I really wouldn't complain if he did.
Chapter 20
Elijah
