by Helena Maeve
I wanted Elliot to know he could trust me to act like a grown-up.
“You want me on top?” The suggestion seemed to surprise him.
“Not if you don’t want to,” I said, backtracking quickly. “I like the other thing, too. The way we normally do it… That’s fine.”
“Fine?”
I scoffed. “You know what I mean.” We were good together—and when we were apart, I still thought about being with him as I stroked fingers into my cunt. I’d come more with Elliot on my mind than I had with real life, flesh and blood lovers.
Elliot tilted forward, trapping my foot between his thighs. There was no way for me to avoid pressing the arch of my foot against his steel-encased length. We both knew it. We both trembled with ersatz satisfaction. “It would be my pleasure,” he murmured, “but on one condition.”
“What’s that?” My breaths were coming a little short already. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through dinner with the anticipation of what was to come bubbling beneath my skin.
“You promise not to feel guilty if it doesn’t work out.”
To say it wasn’t what I’d expected to hear would’ve been an understatement.
Elliot went on, “It’s not that I don’t think you could enjoy it, but some people aren’t switches.”
“Are you?” I was beginning to wonder if he didn’t want to do it and he was trying to let me down easy.
“Sometimes,” he said. “Enough to know that a preference for one or the other has nothing to do with not trusting your partner enough to let them take the wheel. It’s more complicated than that. Trouble is…people have all kinds of preconceived ideas about what they should be able to do. And when reality doesn’t pan out as expected…” He shrugged.
I’d been with a few guys who thought getting spanked or flogged was within the realm of what they could handle—and who then got vindictive about returning the favor—but most of them didn’t matter much to me. I could take a disappointing one-night stand more easily than I could handle screwing up whatever it was that I had going with Elliot.
I was beginning to realize that it wasn’t the harmless arrangement I’d believed it to be. And though that was usually a good reason to get the hell out of Dodge, I found myself wanting to prolong our time together, to stretch out and savor every second.
I wondered if Elliot felt the same, but I didn’t have the guts to broach the subject. Ignorance was bliss—or so I told myself.
We enjoyed a leisurely dinner when we could’ve wolfed down our meal and hurried upstairs at the first opportunity. Elliot ordered a double espresso at the end, while I decided to forgo a dessert.
“Caffeine at this hour?” I teased. “Someone’s going to be awake all night.”
Elliot winked at me across the table. “I’m counting on it.”
My insides churned almost painfully. God, what have I gotten myself into?
I was restless all the way upstairs, my heart thudding as I watched the floor numbers change. We couldn’t speak freely, much less flirt, until we hit the eighth floor and a pair of Thai tourists exited the elevator.
As soon as the doors were shut, Elliot pressed me into the wall, pinning me in place with his hips. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he murmured.
“This? This what? Oh—” The air rushed out of me as Elliot sank to his knees, pushed up my skirt and dove in.
I scrabbled for purchase against the unyielding surface of the wall, but it was no use. I could feel his tongue through the soaked crotch of my panties, his teeth against my labia.
He drew in a breath, his lashes fluttering shut. “Fuck, you smell good…”
“Oh God—get up. Get up, Elliot, c’mon…”
It was a close call, but he was on his feet a fraction of a second before the doors opened, his body blocking me from the sight of any hotel guests or staff as I fixed my skirt back into place. How he could expect me to walk out on wobbly knees I didn’t know, but we managed to make it work.
I got as far as his room before I collapsed against the wall, held up only by the strength of his arms.
“You okay?”
“I wasn’t counting on giving hotel security a show,” I growled, trying to make my voice steely and cold.
I was pretty sure that the security cameras in the elevator weren’t there just for show. So much for not becoming an unwitting Internet sensation…
Elliot’s face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Don’t be sorry. Get back to what you were doing.” We were safe inside his room now and my cunt was throbbing with need for his talented tongue. I figured he’d forgive me for being slightly less than submissive as I cupped the back of his neck and pulled him to me. He wasn’t the only one who’d spent the past hours eager and unable to get off.
Every time I thought I had a free moment, something new would pop up. Or Riley would want to talk. Or the Hamiltons would be fighting downstairs, which I pretended I couldn’t hear, but the house was too ancient to have decent soundproofing.
Elliot didn’t disappoint. He pried my panties aside and ran his tongue the length of my slit, from my vagina to my clitoris and back, as though he couldn’t get enough of tasting me. I liked the thought of him out of his mind with desire, even if it was just a far-fetched ideal. I liked him even better when he sealed his lips around my clit and sucked it tenderly into his mouth.
The first accidental graze of teeth hurt. The second had me bending at the waist as a flood of heat gushed out of me. “Don’t stop,” I gasped. I’d never been crazy about pain-play when it was directed at me, but Elliot gave me just enough pleasure to offset the discomfort.
I fisted my hand in his hair until he got the message. He made a point of his tongue and let me ride it as fast and as hard as I wanted to. He didn’t even protest when I gripped him tightly by the scruff of his neck. Pleasure ignited inside me, a supernova that licked fire from my belly all the way down to my fingertips. I dug my toes into the floor and shook and shook as I hurtled over the edge.
Elliot nuzzled at me patiently through the aftershocks, humming low in his throat as he peppered kisses along my inner thighs. “That sounded good,” he murmured when our eyes met and I could hear the question in his voice. Was it good?
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Good was putting it mildly. I felt exhausted. I felt powerful and in control.
That wasn’t going to work with what I had offered Elliot over dinner.
“You want to take this somewhere more comfortable?” I asked. The bed in the other room crossed my mind, but then I thought it wasn’t fair to make him wait that long. As Elliot rose to his feet, I hooked my hands into his belt and quickly undid the buckle. After that, it was easy to push his slacks down his hips, nudging the underwear down with them, until Elliot was bare from the waist down and wearing only the shiny cock cage.
I was sure there was something terribly wrong with me for finding his straining, steel-trapped erection so arousing, but I didn’t care.
“Does it hurt a lot?” I asked, flicking my gaze up to his face.
“Not a lot.” Elliot’s smile was sheepish, but not hesitant.
“Let me make it up to you.” It was my turn to be on my knees. It wasn’t a position as unfamiliar as one might have expected, but usually my partners would’ve been tied up, possibly gagged and their range of movement severely restricted. I didn’t mind Elliot’s fingers combing back my hair so he could see what my lips were doing. “What were you saying the last time,” I teased, “about my mouth and your cock?”
“The obvious. If you feel so inclined—” Elliot’s breaths caught in his throat as I let my tongue slide over the steel bars. The taste was what I’d expected—iron-tangy and soapy and not very pleasant—but it was worth lingering there for the way Elliot’s lips parted on a sigh, the way he begged. “T-take it off of me. Please.”
How could I resist? “Make me,” I challenged, striving for defiance and coming closer to smu
g.
Elliot swallowed hard, but he was stronger than me and once he put his mind to it, I couldn’t fight him off—I didn’t want to.
We tussled like dogs playing, like people who didn’t know better, until eventually I landed on my back on the floor, his body warm and solid above me. His fingers dug into my wrists where he was holding me down—a novel experience but not in itself unpleasant.
I could handle this, I told myself. It would take a lot more to make me buckle.
I laughed when he snapped the chain from around my neck with a vicious tug. “Feeling desperate, are we?”
Elliot paid me no mind. His hands were shaking as he reached for the lock that held his dick encased in steel. I pushed myself up on my elbows to get a better view. Had I reduced him to this? The thought of any man being so palpably frantic for me was a weird sort of compliment, but knowing I could do it to Elliot just sent my pulse racing and my heart thudding ferociously in my chest. I didn’t even care about the likely rug burn.
He got the cage open eventually and the steel sleeve slid off first, dropping to my belly and rolling down to the carpet with a light thump. Elliot tossed the ring that had secured it behind his ball sac next and his cock swelled in a matter of moments. I made to touch him, but Elliot caught my hand and pulled me to him. My legs were pinned beneath him, so I didn’t get far. He kissed like he was trying very hard to keep it together. I guessed he must have been close.
“You can come, you know,” I whispered against his lips. “We have all night.” And tomorrow. I really liked the thought of having him to myself for twenty-four whole hours, with no interruptions. I didn’t care that it left to be desired as far as keeping myself from becoming too involved. I pushed the thought out of my mind.
“Let me fuck you?”
I liked that he asked for permission before he guided me back to the floor. I nodded. My knees were going to ache something fierce tomorrow, but I didn’t care. I felt him hitch up my skirt and expose my sopping panties with strange detachment. I wasn’t often on all fours when I had sex. I didn’t mind it, but it was nothing I needed to get off.
“Do you have to do it like that?” I murmured, biting my tongue.
Elliot stilled above me. “You don’t like it?”
I wasn’t a fan of doing it like this, but I’d offered to let him take control tonight and I wasn’t doing a very good job of walking the walk.
“No, it’s fine,” I said, backtracking. I couldn’t help but feel bad for interrupting. It wasn’t as though I wasn’t sure I wanted him—I did and I’d fantasized about having his cock inside me before, albeit not as often as I’d fantasized about his mouth or his long fingers—but this was tested and tried and way outside my top ten. I exhaled a long, deep breath and tried to relax. “Go ahead.”
“You look like you’re readying yourself for the gallows,” Elliot pointed out testily. I heard him shuffle a little as he sank down to his haunches. When I turned, I found him holding his shaft by the base, clearly trying to outlast my mixed signals.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to—”
“I’m not asking you to.” The twitch of a smile teased at his lips. “I know you like calling the shots.”
I nodded, once, because I didn’t want to lie, but when I opened my mouth to add a cautionary note, Elliot stopped me with a headshake. “I like it when you call the shots, too. I don’t need anything else.”
“You don’t?” In my rush to prove I could be versatile, I hadn’t considered that versatility might not be something he cared for. It shouldn’t have mattered, but what Elliot liked and didn’t like had become increasingly relevant. The more time we spent together, the more I wanted to tailor my desires to fit his. I couldn’t fathom that we just matched each other effortlessly.
It couldn’t be that easy. We couldn’t just fit each other.
Elliot shook his head again.
It took me a few seconds before I crawled into his lap and placed my hand over his. “I’m making this more complicated than it needs to be, aren’t I?”
“A little.” He was being kind.
“Let’s see if I can’t make it up to you…” I dipped my head and took him into my mouth like it was second nature. There was no cage to knock against my teeth this time, no metallic aftertaste on the back of my tongue. Elliot’s dick was hard and flushed so dark with blood it seemed nearly purple. He strained when I closed my fist around it, a whimper catching in the back of his throat. It got no easier as I traced the underside of the shaft with my tongue, following the ridge of protruding veins and locking my lips just behind the head. I’d never learned how to deep-throat, but none of my exes had ever complained before.
I stroked him quick and rough, ignoring his warnings and the voice at the back of my head telling me I should more careful with men who hadn’t promised me exclusivity. I wanted him to come—and he did, back arching and his fingers clawing desperately at the floor. A sob caught in his throat.
I choked a little as warm jets of cum sprayed into my mouth, but I held on, swallowing as best I could. It was filthy and I enjoyed every second, even his bitter flavor on my tongue.
Elliot traced my lips with a trembling hand as I pulled away. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
That made two of us, but rather than agree, I grinned cockily and said, “What? You’ve earned it.” I shuffled forward on my knees, the best I could manage when I felt like every bone in my body had melted away, and settled into his lap. “Was it worth the wait?” I didn’t just mean the cock cage, although two days of wearing that thing must’ve taken their toll.
I meant was it worth waiting two years to see me again. Was I worth it?
“Definitely,” he mumbled, oblivious, as he sagged with his back against the bed frame.
We’d made it as far as the bedroom floor, if not the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to be, but we were both too spent to move.
I wrapped my arms around Elliot’s shoulders and hid my face into the crook of his neck. I could still taste him on the back of my tongue as I settled against the firm, unyielding lines of his body where I felt, of all things, safe.
Elliot kissed my hair. “You want to grab a shower?”
“With you?” The last time he’d offered, I had turned him down for fear of being late to work. I didn’t have that excuse now. I didn’t need it. “Sure,” I mumbled, “but, just— Can you give me a moment?”
It took me half an hour to climb to my feet, with no small amount of help from Elliot, and I gasped when I caught sight of my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
“Yeah, yeah,” he drawled. “You’re hot. Don’t be so shocked.”
He thought this banshee-like mess qualified as hot?
“You need glasses,” I shot back and started peeling off my clothes. My skirt had seen some abuse tonight. I was glad I’d brought a change of clothes for tomorrow morning—although given our track record, perhaps I should’ve brought a couple. “What are you doing?”
Elliot had switched on the dials of the massive corner bath with its myriad jet spouts. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure I can keep upright. Is this okay?”
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually taken a bath. The Hamiltons had one of those claw-footed monstrosities, but in my bathroom, there was only a tiny cubicle with a rickety door. I didn’t mind. I usually had to rush through getting ready in the mornings anyway. But when Elliot held out his hand to me, I went willingly, stepping over the rim with some trepidation. The tub had filled in a matter of seconds. No ancient, clanging pipes here.
I was impressed when I didn’t trip or slide as I knelt down in the tub. It wasn’t very comfortable and I wondered why people went gaga over the chance to soak in warm water.
The penny only dropped when Elliot settled behind me, his back to the cool enamel edge and his thighs bracketing mine. I could feel his soft dick against the small of my back, just like I could feel his hands against my flanks, steadying me
.
“Shouldn’t there be bubbles?” I asked. “I’m pretty sure that commercial on TV had bubbles.”
“I can probably call down to reception,” Elliot offered and I closed my hands around his kneecaps, nails digging in to keep him put—exactly like he wanted me to.
“Don’t you move.” It was too comfortable to stay just like this. I didn’t want to give it up, not for bubbles or my own persistent paranoia. I watched the water slosh against the edges of the tub without spilling over. My skin was murky and dark beneath the surface. I tried not to stare at my pale, unpainted toenails. “So… About the cock cage…”
“What about it?” Elliot murmured lazily into my hair.
I had to ask. “Did you like it?”
“Like is a strong word. I couldn’t jerk off and that wasn’t very pleasant… But I liked my reward, so there’s that. Maybe next time we can just use the ring?”
“Maybe,” I agreed as vaguely and noncommittally as I could. The thought of there being a next time lingered in my mind as I turned my head to kiss his lips.
Next time. Did that mean he wanted us to keep seeing each other after he left? I was afraid to ask, I was afraid of the answer.
In the end, I just settled into the cradle of his arms and let myself drift as the water cooled around us. I needed to remind myself that Elliot was the man who had taken my number with the promise to call only to disappear for two years. He wasn’t relationship material. Neither was I. In all likelihood, we wouldn’t have a next time.
Chapter Ten
We were meeting in Union Square, after I finished running a few personal errands—namely renewing my birth control prescription and getting a haircut. Elliot was adamant about it. He didn’t want us meeting at the hotel, as I’d been hoping, but out on the street corner, between hobos and jack-booted policemen with impressive sidearms holstered at their hips.
