by Autumn Grey
“Hold on to the headboard.”
I do, then take a deep breath. He’s taller and heavier than me, but somehow, we fit perfectly. Hip to hip, my breasts against his chest. Then his hands are moving up my arms and linking with mine on the headboard. His head drops in the crook of my neck. He peppers kisses along my collarbone at the same time as he’s thrusting into me.
His hips lift, then lower as he plunges into me without notice with enough driving force to cause my body to slide up the bed, sending my thoughts scattering and turning my brain to mush. He’s fucking me like he’s on a mission to free me from my demons, and I’m loving it.
“Feel that, Elon?” His voice is muffled in my neck. “I’m about to fuck the bad memories away. By the time I’m through with you, the only thing in your mind will be me. Understood?”
I nod, feeling hot tears in my eyes. He knows. He knows I’ve been hurt before, probably got a hint when I froze up on the recliner in the living room.
His body stops moving on top of mine. “Understood?” he asks again softly.
“Yeah,” I whisper, hoping he can’t hear the tears in my voice.
He starts moving again, muttering into my neck, making promises to “replace those assholes”. He circles his hips, then thrusts deeper inside me than I thought possible. I close my eyes, feeling my orgasm rushing forward, threatening to kill me. Revive me. Then I’m propelled into the skies shouting his name; I’m soaring. My heart fights to catch up with my breathing. I let myself be swept into this place that doesn’t have rules, just pleasure.
When I finally come down and open my eyes, Nate is watching me with something like awe while thrusting languidly inside me.
“Beautiful,” he says, increasing his strokes, making love to me with heartbreaking gentleness. I’m useless beneath him.
I try to wrap my limbs around his torso so I can return the favor, but they won’t cooperate. He doesn’t seem to care though. He continues driving into me with single-minded determination, his eyes never leaving mine, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
He pumps a few times, then I feel his body stiffen above mine. He growls my name, the sound ricocheting around the room. He’s still uttering my name in soft pants when he drops his head in the crook of my shoulder, placing wet, hot kisses on my jaw, my neck, behind my ear.
He rolls to the side using his left arm to take me with him. He tucks me to his side, reaches down and pulls the sheet to our shoulders. He kisses the top of my head and rests his palm flat on my chest possessively.
The room smells of sweat and sex. So intoxicating. So us.
He pulls out, leaves the bed and removes the condom while heading to the bathroom. He returns moments later and pulls me in his arms again.
Silence envelopes us as we just lie there, enjoying being in each other’s arms, his hand drawing patterns on my arm. I’m basking in his heat, my brain subconsciously following his finger’s movements. His finger moves on my skin and I concentrate on following the letters he’s tracing on my back.
MINE.
Mine.
And I’m flying again, reaching for the stars.
You don’t even have a future with him, Elon. He’s your professor, a voice rudely snaps me out of my languid bliss.
As if I need a reminder.
I shove that voice to the back of my head and snuggle closer into his warmth.
Right now in this room, he’s mine. I’ll think about the rest once I walk out the front door.
My head jerks up, and I stare at his handsome, scruffy jaw, taking in the satisfied look on his face.
“Are you sure you are okay?”
One eye pops open. “I’ve never been more okay in my life.” He closes his eye and says, “Sleep, Little Wolf. I need you well-rested for the next round.”
I nod, still wanting more of him, but he probably needs to rest his body.
I giggle, letting my eyes fall shut, feeling his semi-erect cock on my back as he spoons me.
I WAIT UNTIL HER BREATHING evens out before carefully shifting her out of my arms and sit up on the bed.
Holy hell.
My arm is throbbing, and my head feels like it’s about to explode. I should have admitted to Elon when she asked me if I was in pain, but I was beyond stopping it. Not with the way she was making me feel like I’m whole. Then she kissed my scars and right there, I could have laid the world at her feet if she’d asked me to.
I pull the covers up over her, covering her shoulder, and go to the bathroom across the room and shut the door. Anxiously, I grab one of my prescription bottles from the cabinet above the sink and toss two in my mouth. I return to bed just as Elon releases a loud snore and stretches in her sleep, letting out that sexy-as-hell moan. That sound should bother me. Instead, it comforts me, thrills me, having her here in my bed.
The sheet slides down her chest, revealing her breasts. Even with pain crushing my senses, my shameless cock responds to her. Then she curls into a tiny ball of red hair and tight little body, before falling back asleep.
I’m about to cover her again when I notice her inked torso. Is this the reason why she kept squirming away or flipping around whenever her back was on me?
My gaze lands on the tattoo of a cello on the right side of her torso that wraps around to her back, dark against her pale skin. Musical notes float above the cello, giving way to birds in flight, stopping slightly above her right shoulder blade.
It’s beautiful.
Unable to resist, I bend down and softly kiss the cello, the notes, the wings of one of the birds. The slight curve of her spine calls to me, and I softly kiss the little dimples on her lower back.
Fucking sexy.
I growl just thinking about taking her from behind, my thumbs digging into her creamy, dimpled flesh.
I frown when I see a fine, line scar on the left side of her lower back, about twenty centimeters long.
What the hell?
Forgetting the fading pain on my shoulder, I lean closer and brush the tip of my fingers on her skin. A cold sweat breaks out on my hairline.
My fists clench, the vein in my temple throbs.
Who the fuck did this to her?
I want to rip the world apart until I find the shithead responsible for hurting her like that.
My body trembles with anger, and there’s no way I can lie near her and not wake her up.
I kiss her shoulder, then pull the sheet up to her jaw. After throwing on a pair of pants and a T-shirt, I turn off the light and leave the room.
I wake up to a dark room, feeling a little disoriented. Then, I remember where I am and jackknife on the bed, the sheet pooling around my waist. Heat fills my cheeks, and my thighs clench as memories of what happened in this bed flash inside my head.
Was that really me? Those sounds leaving my mouth, my body arching wantonly as Nate fucked me like he was going to war, and he was taking a piece of me to remember me by? Me screaming his name over and over as I came? If it weren’t for the evident pain on his shoulder he was trying to hide, I’d have claimed a few more orgasms.
Damn, Elon, you little harlot.
I fall back on the bed and turn to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand on Nate’s side of the bed.
Twenty minutes past midnight.
Moving my head, I press my face on the pillow where Nate had been four hours ago, inhaling his scent. I could get used to this.
Shit. Just one round of great sex with one of the hottest men alive, not to mention a great lover, and I’m already thinking of getting used to this. To him.
Time to leave before I start planning on having his babies.
I reach to my left and switch on the lamp before rolling out of bed, snatching my clothes and tossing them on. Then, I grab my booties and tiptoe out of the room.
Nate is not in the living room or the kitchen. I risk a glance over my shoulder, beyond the glass balcony door. The lamp on the wall above him casts his side-profile in shadows. I feel those tiny butterfly wing
s beating wildly inside my tummy as I take in his tousled hair, strong jaw, wide cheekbones.
I also notice again how sexy he looks wearing his reading glasses.
He scrolls the lit-up screen of his phone, a small frown forming on his face. Seconds later, he sets it on the table and picks something from the table and puts it between his lips. His cheeks hollow as he sucks on what looks like a cigarette between the tips of his index finger and thumb of his left hand, then exhales again. He then tilts his head back. Wisps of smoke leave his lips, vanishing into the cold air.
Nate smokes? Not that I have anything against smoking, but I never pictured him to be a smoker.
God, even smoking looks good on him.
This man who rocked my world, ignoring whatever pain he was going through just to make sure I was satisfied.
I can’t sneak off like I’m ashamed of what we did. If anything, I’m grateful to him for giving me something I thought I’d never feel with any man.
Feeling adored and the out-of-this-world orgasm.
Dropping my shoes next to the cello, I join him on the balcony, rubbing my hands along my arms to ward off the chill. The smell of weed hits me in the face, causing me to stagger a bit.
“I wondered if you would leave without saying goodbye,” he says without looking at me, rolling the joint between his fingers before taking a quick drag.
When I don’t answer, he looks up to find me staring at the joint.
I’m a junior at Rushmore, and while some students make a point to enjoy college, maybe try everything once, I’ve never felt the urge to try recreational drugs. Even Amber, who grew up in a sheltered household, has smoked a joint or two.
So, when Nate smirks at me and says, “You’ve never smoked one of these before?” I shake my head and cross my arms on my chest tighter and say, “There’s always a first time, right?”
He chuckles deeply and sets the joint on the glass ashtray on the table in front of him. He snakes his left arm around my waist and pulls me on his lap, my back to his front.
God, even on resting mode his dick is huge.
“You okay?” he whispers, nuzzling his nose along the column of my neck, and I let my head fall back as his teeth nibble the skin there.
I nod, shivering, snuggling closer. “Yeah.” I glance at the ashtray, suddenly feeling reckless. “Can I try that?”
His head comes up and he narrows his eyes, studying me for several seconds before nodding once.
Reaching forward, I take it and hold it the way I saw him doing, put it between my lips and take a quick hit.
And then I start coughing, my nose and mouth fighting to exhale the smoke.
“Shit,” he mutters, taking it from me and grinding the end on the ashtray. He starts to rub my back soothingly as I cough my lungs out. “Breathe, sweetheart.”
When I feel well enough to speak without tears spilling down my cheeks, I giggle at my inexperience. He joins in, laughing softly.
“You okay?”
I nod, my head feeling lighter than before. “Is it weird I feel a little high right now?”
He tucks my head under his chin, kissing my hair, a laugh rumbling in his chest. “You’re so cute.”
Silence falls between us for several minutes and the effect of the drug loosens my thoughts, causing a mayhem inside my head. Doubts creep in.
Did he enjoy what we did? Was I good? Did I satisfy him? Shit. Maybe— “This was a huge mistake.”
His body stiffens beneath mine, the hand on my stomach tensing.
“What did you say?”
I lick my lips and close my eyes. “Was this a mistake?”
He is quiet for several seconds. “Do you regret it?”
“God, no,” I admit quickly, shifting on his lap to straddle him. “Honestly? It was the best night of my life. Best sex I have ever had.”
He grins wide, flexing his thighs. I gasp when I feel him thickening between my legs.
“Then what is it?” he inquires, kissing my shoulder.
This is awkward. Doubting myself makes me feel weak, and I hate it.
“So, you smoke,” I say instead, praying he’d follow my lead and forget about what we were talking about.
He watches me intently, then says, “Helps with the pain. Helps me forget.”
I drop my gaze as his words make my stomach lurch. “Is that why you are smoking now? To forget?”
“Jesus, fuck. No.” He cups my cheeks in his big hands. “For the first time in three years, I feel alive. What we did in there–” he points inside the house with his finger “–you have no idea what you did for me. You gave me something I thought I would never find again. You gave me me back.”
I want to ask him what happened to him, what did he lose. But I have a feeling that’s a sore subject, and he might end up shutting down on me. Besides, I want him to tell me when he is ready.
So I nod. He seals his lips over mine, kissing me so softly but passionately nonetheless.
He leans his forehead to mine, eyes holding mine captive and whispers, “Stay.”
“Okay.” How can I refuse him when he’s looking at me like I’m the next best thing since oxygen? Besides, Amber is out with Alex and will probably be back on Sunday.
He stands up, making sure my feet are touching the ground before removing his arm, and we head back inside. He pulls me toward the kitchen.
“Come on. Let me get you something to eat.”
The next twenty minutes, we spend eating ham sandwiches. We don’t talk much, though.
When we are finished, Nate guides me to his room, his hand teasing my lower back.
He removes his glasses and sets them on the nightstand before stripping off his clothing, never looking away from me while I remove mine. He watches me as I reach for his and fold them, neatly setting them on the couch next to mine.
“I’ll be on edge if I don’t do this,” I explain.
“I know.” And he does. I can see understanding in his eyes. “Get on the bed.”
I literally skip to the bed and crawl on it. He’s on me within seconds, kissing my neck, breasts, lips, jaw, taking his time like we have eternity on our side.
“Tell me something dirty,” he whispers in my ear hotly. “Something you have never admitted to anyone. Something that turns you on.”
His words send heat spearing between my legs. Like every woman with a pulse, I have fantasies, but I’ve never spoken them aloud.
“Blindfold.” I pant just as his tongue slowly moves across the sensitive place between my neck and ear.
“Kinky.” He moves, flanking my back. “Why blindfold?’
My back arches as he curls his body around mine, his arm curling around my waist and pulling me back to his hard body.
The way he is working me right now, it will be a miracle if I remember my own name.
“Elon.” He bites my shoulder, and I squeal at the unexpected pain. “Blindfold.”
“I—I don’t know,” I pant. “I’ve never done it before. Maybe the not knowing what my partner is going to do next. . . oh God! Nate!”
His mouth is grazing my spine, making this sound in the back of his throat as if he’s eating his last meal. The tip of his tongue traces a hot trail down, down, down until it’s too late, and his lips are skimming the knife scar on my torso.
Shit!
My body jerks in shock and I flip around, almost clocking him on his nose in the process.
“Sorry!” I mumble, sitting up and pulling the sheet around me, my body trembling. “I really think I should go.”
He sits back on his heels, fully erect and hands outstretched toward me. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
Regret and concern swirl in his eyes. My vision blurs, and I turn away before he sees the tears building in them, then pull my legs up and fold my arms around them.
He must have seen the scar while I was asleep, the sign of my stupidity.
“I met him three years ago when I started school here at Rushm
ore,” I start telling him without preamble. “He was older than me, handsome and the way he used to look at me.” I face him again and swallow hard, then force a laugh. “I have no idea why I am telling you this–” He moves so fast and before I know his intentions, he moves behind me, pulling me between his legs and hugging me so tight, I can feel his touch in my bones. Never in my life have I been held this way by someone who knows how it feels to be inside me.
“Tell me,” he murmurs into my hair, and more tears stream down my face.
“Sorry. I’m not always such a mess,” I apologize. “At first he was exceedingly nice to me. And I let myself believe that there were men out there who were not like my father. One month into the relationship, he changed. He became volatile and moody.” I pause, realizing Nate has gone still behind me.
“One night I went to his place just in time to find him trashing everything, a bottle of vodka in one hand. He accused me of cheating on him with Nick. Said he was going to teach Nick a lesson.”
My lungs are starved for air, I need to breathe. Every time I close my eyes, I feel the knife slicing into my skin, cutting me open, marking me as his without my consent.
“He did that to you?” His voice is laced with fury.
I turn to face him. “I tend to attract the wild kind,” I chuckle, trying to soften the tension cracking the air around us. “I should have left him the second I realized he was violent.”
Nate grasps my face in his hands. “Everyone is born with a clean slate. What we do with it is up to us. Just because your ex-boyfriend got off on hitting you doesn’t mean you are to blame. Real men don’t hit women, no matter how angry or frustrated they are. Real men do everything to protect them.”
I’m about to open my mouth and tell him that Rick was a coward and a manipulative asshole, but his words stop me.
He’s right.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and I wipe them away with the back of my hand.
“That’s really sweet,” I whisper, as I look up at him, his eyes calming me as my breathing begins to even out.
He ducks his head to meet my gaze. “I want you to do me a favor.”
