by Ivy Collins
The last part isn’t a cause for concern. Actually, it’s so fantastic I still can’t quite believe it had happened. One second, I’d been in his shower, vaguely touching myself while I indulged in those guilty fantasies. In fantasy world, Elijah had come into the bathroom and joined me.
In the real world, I’d stopped before coming, frustrated and guilty, and realized too late that I hadn’t even bothered to grab some damp clothing from the stuff outside my apartment. I stepped outside, burning with embarrassment, to see if I could ask to borrow something...
And the moment he looked at me, I knew. I knew that he wanted me, that he was going to kiss me, that there was nothing in the world that was going to stop us both from indulging in that very delicious, very bad idea. And then, we did.
And now, here I am, firmly planted in reality, with Elijah’s arms around me and his very gorgeous, very naked body flush against mine.
I don’t want to move on from this. This, here and now, is perfect. I’m warm, safe, and relaxed. As long as I’m in bed, I don’t need to wonder about little things like where I’m going to get new clothes, where I’m going to live, whether the man behind me is going to wake up and gently explain that sleeping together is a mistake we have to rectify and avoid ever making again.
That thought sends the first real spike of anxiety into my stomach. Of all the terrible things I have to deal with, that strikes me as the worst. I’ve discovered that I really, deeply adore this man—in addition to which, he’s very good at making me scream in pleasure. Only now, by comparison, do I realize that neither of those things was ever true about Jordan. Now that I’ve tasted just a hint of a relationship like this, how can I possibly tear my own heart out the very next day and agree to walk away from it?
Elijah’s lips brush across the back of my neck, and I realize I’ve tensed up in his arms. “Mm,” he murmurs. “Well, that’s a nice sight to wake up to.” His fingers stroke lazily along the curve of my hip, beneath the blanket.
I flush, and lean back into his touch. “Oh, look at that,” my mouth goes on without me. “You can be pleasant when you want to be.”
He laughs. It’s a low, rich laugh that I’ve definitely never heard from him before. I find myself caught between a fresh burst of attraction and a strange sense of surreality. Elijah would never laugh like that in a lecture hall.
It’s damned sexy.
He kisses his way up to my ear. “I can be very pleasant when I want to be,” he whispers there. His fingers drift down between my legs, ghosting over my slit. I’m already damp, with images from last night running through my mind. He caresses me with his fingertip, stroking so lightly that I let out a needy moan. His other hand closes around my breast more firmly, offering some of the pressure I so desperately want. My nipple is hard against his palm, aching for friction. He’s still kissing the back of my neck; sometimes, his teeth close on the skin there. I writhe back against him, deliriously pleased by the feeling of his hard cock pressing against my ass.
It’s an entirely different experience from last night. I can feel him taking his time, savoring every touch, every sound I make. He clearly wants me again, and he doesn’t mind letting me know it... but he’s not in a hurry to jump ahead.
“Is there something you want, Sophie?” Elijah murmurs in my ear, as I squirm with need. He’s still kneading at my breast, teasing just along the edge of my slit. I try to press into his hand, but he keeps his distance, tracing me tantalizingly. “Tell me what you want. I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you beg.”
My whole body shudders at the heat in his voice. I’ve never been in bed with a man so in-control. It’s sexy and oddly comforting at the same time. I just want to let go and do as he says, anything he says. I trust that he knows where we’re going, and how to make me come.
If he talked to me like that in a classroom, I’d tell him to go fuck himself—more colorfully, more snidely. He’d shoot back at me, and we’d end up bantering back and forth for a few exchanges. But here and now, I capitulate entirely. I want to please him. I want him to please me.
“Please, Elijah,” I whimper. “I want... I want you inside me again. I want you to fuck me.”
His lips curve up against the back of my neck. His fingertip dips inside me. Every nerve in my lower body seems to come alive at once, sparking with the pleasure of that touch, and I gasp. His teeth nibble at my earlobe. “What a naughty girl you are, Sophie,” he breathes. Something about those words in that posh accent of his drives me wild. “You’re so ready to skip to the end. I’m not done with you yet. But... your honesty is admirable. I suppose you deserve some kind of reward.”
His finger slides deeper inside me, and I sob with pleasure. The pad of his thumb caresses my clit, rubbing there in slow, lazy circles. I can already feel the heat building inside me. I’m hyperaware of how off-limits this all is, and it makes every little touch feel that much more sharp and thrilling. He’s already promised to fuck me again, in his own bed, and I know we’ll get there. My fantasy is outside my head, and it’s so much better than anything I ever could have imagined.
“Please,” I beg again, because I feel the way it makes his cock jerk against my ass. “I want you on top of me. I want... I want you to hold me down and make me come.”
Elijah sucks in his breath. I know that breathy sound in my voice is affecting him. His finger slides in and out of me, faster, and I whimper in approval. “That sounds enjoyable,” he manages. “I’ll do all of that to you, Sophie. But first... you have to admit that you’ve been very bad.” He sucks in a breath, and I can tell he’s holding himself back. “Have you been a bad girl, Sophie?”
A second finger joins the first, and I moan loudly. “Ye-es!” I gasp. “I’ve been so bad. I touched myself while I was in the shower, I thought about my professor screwing me. I fucked him against a wall, and it was really good—”
He tugs his fingers free and rolls me beneath him with a hiss of need. I barely have the time to register the dark heat in his gaze, and the way his tousled blond hair falls into his eyes, before he pulls my wrists above my head and enters me in one hard stroke.
I can’t even breathe. I’m so full, so stretched out. I arch up into him wordlessly, trying to take him even deeper. He’s looking me in the eyes as he holds me down, doing exactly as I begged, and I can barely believe the intensity there. I’ve given myself up completely, letting him take control of me, and it’s the most delicious feeling in the world.
There’s no condom between us this time, and I savor the feeling of his naked cock inside me. But even as he takes me again, he presses his lips against mine with a hard, frustrated groan. “I need to find some protection,” he murmurs reluctantly.
I tighten around him, unwilling to give up the exquisite feeling of him hard inside of me. “Please don’t,” I beg. “I’m... I’m on birth control. I’m clean.”
The revelation makes his cock twitch inside me, and he hisses in his breath again. He responds by pounding into me, swift and hard, making me cry out. His fingers dig into my wrists, and he’s suddenly fucking me the way I desperately wanted, like he can’t get enough of me. “God,” he groans. “I’m going to come inside you, Sophie. I’m going to make you take my come, and it’s going to be so good.”
My body agrees wholeheartedly. I wrap my legs around him, trying to meet his thrusts. He drops one of his hands from my wrists to slide his fingers between my lips, forcing them into my mouth. I know what he’s thinking about as he does it, so I suck on those fingers eagerly, holding his eyes as I moan around them. Later, I promise with my eyes. And I decide that I’m definitely going to suck his cock later, with his fingers tight in my hair and his hand forcing my head down into his lap—
He hits a spot inside me that sends stars blossoming across my vision. I give a muffled cry around his fingers, and he smiles wickedly. The next stroke hits that spot again, and again, and again, and I finally shatter apart beneath him, in the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. I try
to scream out his name, but I’m hampered by his fingers, by the weight of him still on top of me, holding me down. As my nerves run wild with white-hot pleasure, I convulse around him, and I feel him come after me with a strangled gasp.
“Fuck,” he moans. “Sophie.” This time, I feel the hot load of come inside me. It’s deeply satisfying, in a primal sort of way. I feel marked, owned. It makes me feel as though I belong in this bed now, where before I was only visiting.
Elijah loosens his grip on my wrists, and pulls me into his arms, holding me close while we both shiver with the aftershocks. He’s stroking my hair again, and oh my god, I love this man. The realization hits me like a thunderbolt, sudden and terrifying and perfect.
His mouth finds mine. He kisses me again—hard, at first, but slowly softening as the adrenaline falls away. I kiss him back gently, wonderingly. It’s a surprisingly generous kiss. The sort of thing I’d normally expect early on in a relationship, long before a man ever held me down and fucked me. I feel like we’ve somehow done everything backward, but it doesn’t much matter. Because that kiss is everything to me, and I don’t care that it came out of order. Tears slip out before I can stop them, and Elijah blinks in alarm, pulling back.
“Sophie?” he says warily. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
I blink a few times, shaking my head wordlessly. “I’m...” My throat is tight. “I’m emotional. My head’s still doing weird things to me, after yesterday. I’m sorry.”
His eyes soften. He pulls me in closer again, and settles my head beneath his chin. “It’s all right,” he murmurs. “You don’t need to be sorry. You can have a good cry, if you like.”
I don’t like the idea of a good cry, exactly. But he’s making me feel safe again, and cared for, and all of that just strikes right past my usual defenses. I shiver against him, and cry again. Quieter, this time, and for a lot of strange, mixed-together reasons. I’m so happy right now, and so worried, and feeling so not-myself. And while I was originally convinced that last night was going to be the best sex of my life, this morning has just proven me wrong and knocked last night straight down to second place.
Elijah holds onto me patiently, stroking at my hair and wiping at my tears. I want to thank him, but everything I might say just feels lame and not-enough, and maybe not quite appropriate. Thank you so much for screwing my brains out and letting me cry all over you would just sound bizarre said out loud.
I calm down eventually, but he’s still stroking my hair absently, holding me against him. I sigh heavily. I love you. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I know they’re utterly insane. I might be overly emotional right now, but even so, I know those are words you can’t take back. As hard as it is, I have to hold onto them until I’ve got my head on a bit straighter, so I can be sure they’re not just my hormones latching onto the first person to show me real concern in a long while.
He silent, but I can feel him thinking, now that we’ve both gotten more tension out of our system. Finally, in a very soft voice, he says: “I meant to discuss things this morning like a rational human being. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that. I’m sorry, Sophie.”
A shot of fear races through me. This is it, I think. He’s about to tell me this was all a mistake—two mistakes—that I need to leave as soon as possible. “Please don’t apologize,” I beg. I hope the sudden desperation I’m feeling hasn’t leaked into the words, but I suspect it has. “I... this is the only good thing that’s happened to me in months.”
My voice is thick, and he glances down at me, concerned. His brow knits. “I’ve upset you,” he observes. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He leans down to kiss me again, gently, on the lips. I’m still shivering with fear, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Elijah pulls back and looks me in the eyes, serious. “I’m not kicking you out my door, Sophie,” he says. “I enjoyed last night. And this morning. I’m enjoying... this, right now. I like holding you. Perhaps I shouldn’t, but I do. The rest seems immaterial.”
I blink slowly. The words gradually penetrate. But I’m not a hundred percent sure that he’s saying what I think he’s saying, and I’m too scared to assume.
“If anything,” he sighs, “I’m worried for you. I can see how last night happened. We were both a bit out of our minds, so I’m not going to dwell on it too much. But your life is very up in the air right now, and you might realize later that you’ve made a mistake.”
“A mistake?” The idea is so bewildering, I nearly laugh. How could this possibly be a mistake? Elijah is so astronomically out of my league, it’s unreal. He’s by far the most attractive man I’ve ever met. He’s frighteningly smart, in-demand, at the top of his career. In comparison, I’m... a freshly-homeless, nearly-graduated college student, with a handful of debt and no idea where I’m going to be this time tomorrow.
“I haven’t made a mistake,” I say slowly. I can see him watching me intently as I speak. “I think you’re... fantastic.” An understatement. My face still burns as I admit it. “I love talking to you. And I’m pretty sure I could spend the next whole week in bed with you.”
That elicits a smirk from him, and I have to resist the urge to kiss him all over again. God, he’s unbearably sexy.
“...but I don’t want to get you in trouble. And if I’m going to be honest, I really don’t think I have much to offer at the moment. I’m likely to end up dragging you down in more ways than one.”
The smirk disappears. I have the privilege of seeing him raise both eyebrows at me now, incredulous. “You think you can drag me down?” he scoffs. “My goodness, you have an inflated sense of your ability to incite disaster. I assure you, I’m not married to this particular job. I have headhunters reminding me several times per week that I could be making much more money just about anywhere else. And I’m quite certain I’m equal to the task of helping you straighten out your life.” He pauses, and frowns. “Not that I expect this sort of thing in return for my help. I want to make that perfectly clear.”
I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve this man. I’m not going anywhere, I think to myself, dazed. You’re going to have to pry me off you later if you want me to leave you alone, you crazy Brit.
I let out a breath. “This is crazy,” I mutter. “But god, I’m all for it.”
Elijah eyes me skeptically, and I can tell he’s turning the situation over in his mind the same way I do, searching it for potential flaws. “I’m thirty-two, you know,” he says. “I have... ten years on you, then? Does that bother you?”
“Nine years,” I correct him, though it hardly makes a difference either way. “I’ve had to draw out my degree a bit while I work. And look, there’s no need to rub it in that you’re older than me and somehow prettier at the same time.”
Elijah coughs on a surprised laugh. He lifts his hand to curl one strand of my hair around his finger. “Don’t fish for compliments, love, it’s unsightly. If you want me to tell you you’re gorgeous, just ask me outright.”
The word love sends my brain off into a spiral again. I feel like I’ve blue-screened. He tells me I’m gorgeous, and what little remains of my thoughts just scramble up in a mess. I’m staring at him, wide-eyed and dumbfounded, which only makes his smile widen.
He tugs on my hair, dragging my mouth to his again. The kiss warms me up all the way down to my toes. “You are gorgeous,” he repeats against me. He says it as though it’s a taunt. It makes me want to laugh. “Absolutely stunning. You always look like you’re about to go to war with someone. You have beautiful eyes, and I should know, as I got to look right at them as you came—”
I shiver, and close my fingers around his arms. “You are far too good at compliments,” I observe. “Do you know what that means?”
His lips quirk against mine. “No, I do not. Please enlighten me.”
“That means... that you are actually quite talented at being pleasant. And for the majority of the time, you just decide to be an absolute pisser of a human being instead.”<
br />
He chuckles against me, instead of being offended. I figured that might be the case. He actually sounds pleased. “You’re also so very smart, Sophie,” he says slyly.
Slowly, it settles in that I’m not getting shoved out of this bed. There are a lot of kinks yet to work out, I’m sure, but I’m not getting dumped before I can even get dated, either.
Elijah kisses me again, and I think: This is really happening.
5
Elijah
I should probably feel more guilty than I do. I should have woken up, assessed everything in the cold light of day, and realized I’ve been a complete cock-up in more ways than one. I took advantage of an upset student, shagged her senseless, and let her sleep in my bed with me.
But strangely, all the daylight showed me was a gorgeous woman nestled in my arms, right where she belonged.
I know I should have tried to discuss things with her first. But while last night should have dulled the edge of my desire for her, it all came raging back as she nestled her round bottom up against my cock.
After that, it was a very good morning.
Now Sophie is out of excuses as to why she’s bad for me—bad for me, hah!—and so far, she seems not only unbothered, but enthusiastic about the idea of continuing this mad thing we’ve started up.
We spend a bit longer enjoying the warmth of the bed. Eventually, though, I drag her into the shower with me, and I take my time fulfilling all those naughty fantasies she had last night. I’m already thinking of all the things I have left to do to her in the next few weeks.
It’s been a long while since I dated a woman—I was always wary of starting up a relationship in America, knowing that I might not stay forever—but I have a very focused, creative mind, and I’m already bending it to the task of how to keep Sophie pleasantly insensible. She’s not utterly inexperienced, but I can tell that the partners she’s had have been, shall we say, ungenerous. All I’ve had to do so far is pay attention to her signals, ask her what she wants, and actually give it to her. The fact that this shocks her so strongly is a bit depressing, but I have to admit that it’s quite good for my ego. That said, I don’t intend to rest on my laurels. I have plenty left to show her... and we’re both going to thoroughly enjoy the process.
