"I'm a fucking enigma."
I laughed. "That's a big word for a .... I don't even know what you do."
A dark look crossed his face briefly, quickly erased by his joking manner again. "Do you need to know?"
"It would be nice to know who I'm sleeping with," I admitted.
He had inched closer to me, or I'd moved closer to him, I'm not sure which. But I was so close that if I arched up on my tip-toes just a little bit more, I'd be able to reach his lips. I was watching them move as he talked, unable to think of much else other than that I wanted them on me.
"Sleeping isn't something I had in mind," Elias said.
"Oh?" I asked. "What did you have in mind?"
"I'm going to ruin you for other men, River Andrews," he said. "That's a fucking promise."
I felt a thrill rush through me at his words, my face flushing warm under his gaze.
Elias lifted the edge of my t-shirt up, played with it for a moment, like he was trying to make a decision. Then he pulled the fabric up over my head, his gaze taking me in. He drew me against him, his fingers running lightly up the length of my back, and I felt him inhale deeply, his chest rising.
I didn't know what the hell to think about this guy. He was definitely not like the guys I was used to in Hollywood, with their hair products and eyeliner and bullshit sensitivity. Elias was bossy, mouthy, and just plain dirty.
But I felt myself relaxing into him as his arms enveloped me.
He was silent for a minute, before he slid his fingers under my chin and tilted my head up to meet him. He pressed his lips against mine, harder as I responded to his kiss. He probed my mouth with his tongue, practically fucking me, and desire rushed through my body as his tongue found mine, and I kissed him back, hungry for him, hungry for his touch. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted him inside of me.
I reached under his t-shirt and he pushed my hands away. "What?" I asked.
"It's not-" he paused. "It's not...pretty. Just as a warning."
"What isn't?" I was confused for a minute, my head clouded with lust. I slid his t-shirt up farther, my hands running over the surface of his chest, and he shook his head as he pulled it the rest of the way off.
"I told you," he said, standing perfectly still, as if he were afraid I would run away, screaming in horror.
I traced my fingers over the maze of scars that crisscrossed his chest and shoulders, the skin rippled, his tattoos disjointed as if they were modern art paintings or something, not quite pieced together where the scars disrupted them. I looked up at him.
"Shrapnel," he said. "From the explosion. Skin grafts cause of the burns."
"That's how you lost your leg?"
Elias nodded, not speaking.
I kissed his chest where the scars were, ran my palms over the ridges on his skin. His eyes were on me, I could feel it, and when I looked up at him, he had a strange expression on his face, pleasure accompanied by pain, I thought. "I told you it wasn't pretty."
"You don't strike me as the kind of guy who tries to be pretty anyhow," I said.
A slow smile crept over Elias' face. "You're fucking all right, River Andrews," he said. "For an actress." He ran his finger down the side of my face, and I turned my face into the warmth of his palm.
"It's Gilstead." I blurted it out. Why did I just say that?
"What is?"
"My name. It's not Andrews. It's Gilstead." I don't know why I felt like I needed to tell him.
Elias nodded. "River Gilstead," he said. "Okay." He ran his palm over my hair, then down to the nape of my neck.
"I thought you should know my real name since I'm going to be sleeping with you," I said. I was babbling, nervous as hell. It came out awkward-sounding. I felt so incredibly self-conscious.
He threaded his fingers through the hair at the base of my neck, gripping it tightly and pulling back, angling my face toward his. I felt my breath catch in my throat. His other hand traveled down the waistband of my pants and he cupped my ass cheek in his hand, pulling me against his hardness. "I already told you," he said. "We're not going to be doing any fucking sleeping. Once I get my cock in you, you're not getting any rest."
He slid his hand around the front of my hips, down between my legs. "No panties," he said.
I bit my lip and shook my head. "Need to go shopping."
He let out a sound under his breath that sounded like a low growl, and touched his fingers to my clit. I arched toward him, wanting his lips on mine, wanting all of him. I hadn't been touched in so long.
"Oh my God," I whispered. His hand was still at the base of my neck, gripping my hair tightly as he held my head in place, ensuring that I didn't break eye contact with him. The way he watched me while he touched me, his gaze intense as his fingers rolled over my clit, made me want to come immediately. "I want you inside me."
"You want me to fuck you?" he said, fingers dancing over my clit.
I moaned. "Do I have to beg?"
He stepped away from me, started unbuttoning his pants, and grinned. "You're definitely going to beg."
"You're cocky," I said. But the throbbing between my legs only intensified. I was close to begging now. I paused. "I don't have condoms."
He didn't answer.
"Do you?" I asked.
He gave me a look. "I wasn't planning on coming here," he said. "I'm clean. We don't really need them."
"I'm not on the pill." I felt stupid, saying it, and I gave him a sheepish look. "I stopped taking it...I'm not on anything." How did I explain, I didn't need it because my fiancé was no longer fucking me? It was embarrassing.
He didn't move, just stood there, looking at me. Then he nodded, and stepped back toward me, his fingers back where they were before, stroking me. I felt a rush of desire flood my body. "Okay, then," he whispered. "No fucking. Tonight, anyway. Tomorrow's another story." He stroked me with his fingers, his movements slow and languid. "In fact," he said. "Maybe I'll just take my time with you."
My thoughts were clouded with lust. Elias taking his time with me was the last thing I wanted to hear. I ached to feel him inside me. I wanted him to fuck me, hard and fast, my legs wrapped around him, up against a wall in the room. I wanted to scream, bury my face in his shoulder, dig my nails into his back as I came.
What he was doing now with his hand was amazing...and agonizing.
"Elias," I whispered, unable to think of anything else to say except his name. I pictured myself calling it out as he thrust himself inside me.
He pulled his fingers from between my legs, and I heard myself groan. Elias reached behind me, unhooked my bra, and slid the straps down my arms. "Oh, hell," he said, his eyes on my breasts.
"What?" I asked, my breath short. I reached for the waistband of his pants, unbuttoned his jeans, began to slide them from his body, when he grabbed my hands.
"You're fucking gorgeous." Elias held my wrists against the sides of his hips. I knew he was hard; I wanted to lean into him, to press myself against his hardness. "I want to taste you. I want to explore every inch of you." He put his mouth close to my ear. "I want you to want me so badly that the thought of my cock inside you makes you come."
"I'm getting close to that point now," I said, my words breathy.
"You haven't even gotten near that point yet," he said, dropping to his knees on the floor between my legs. He began to pull down my pants before I even realized what he was doing. His finger grazed the bandage that covered the spot on my leg where I'd cut, and I breathed a sigh of relief that I'd covered it. "Shaving accident?" he asked, his voice low.
"Yes," I said. "Nicked it with a razor."
He looked up at me, then kissed my other inner thigh, his thumb stroking lightly over the place where my scars used to be, the place where they were only mostly faded away. When he paused, hovering over the spot, I was sure he'd realized my secret. I held my breath, feeling my body tense.
Then he began applying kisses the length of my thighs, moving up between my legs. I exhaled, mo
re out of relief that he'd passed over the fresh cut than at anything else. Until he moved further, between my legs and covering me with his mouth.
He worked me over with his tongue until I was on the verge, until I grasped at his hair by the roots, pulling him away from me, barely catching my breath. Then he slipped his fingers inside me again, his mouth focused on my clit, sucking so hard I couldn't think about anything else.
His fingers moved, stroking me in a come hither motion, until my breath came in spurts, ragged with desire. With his other hand, he kneaded my breast, his thumb stroking my erect nipple.
"Elias." My voice was husky, didn't sound like me. "Oh God, Elias, I'm going to come."
He groaned, the sound muffled between my legs. Then he slid his fingers out of me, and I nearly cried at the void. "I want to feel you come on me," he said, then replaced his fingers with the warmth of his mouth. He entered me with his tongue, his hands on my ass, pulling me into him, and I came hard against him.
He stayed like that for a while, until I came down from my orgasm and pulled his head away from between my legs. He looked at me, his expression clouded with lust, and stood up, pulling me into him. I could feel his erection against me through his jeans, and I felt a surge of desire for him.
He kissed me, full on the mouth, and I could taste myself on his lips. It was something I'd never let anyone do before, kiss me after going down on me, but with Elias, I had this strange desire to do whatever he wanted to do. Everything he did, every way he touched me, was sexy.
He grazed my neck with his lips, hands roaming over my body, across my breasts. I fumbled with the zipper on his pants. I wanted them off. I wanted to see him naked in front of me. I yanked hard at the sides, sliding them down his legs, and I bend down to pull them off of him.
Elias held my arms, trying to pull me up. "Don't," he said, but I pushed his hands away.
I gripped his thighs with my hands, my eyes lingering on his prosthetic, and when I looked up at him, he stepped back.
"What?" I rose to my feet, confused. "What's wrong?"
Elias shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "I just - "
I pressed my body against his, wrapped my hand around the base of his cock. "For a guy who's so goddamned cocky, you get awful self-conscious about stuff," I said, my hand running up his length.
He groaned, a guttural sound from deep in his throat. "Keep doing that and I won't be." He kissed me as I stroked him, the whole time thinking about how I'd rather have his cock between my legs than in my hand.
I ran my lips over his chest, watching his head tilt back as I did it. Then I dropped to my knees in front of him, running my tongue along his length, taking him in my mouth, tasting him. I brought him to the brink, until he grasped my hair, warned me.
"River, I'm going to come," he said.
I pulled him into my mouth deeper, looked up at him.
"Shit," he said, gripping my hair. I sucked him harder, and he thrust inside me, growling my name when he came.
17
Elias
As soon as she'd finished me, I could tell she was worked up again. I brought her to orgasm again, this time with my hand, and even though she whimpered just before she came on my fingers, asking for my cock, I refrained. I wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless, fill her to the hilt with my cock and feel her come around me.
But I was trying to fucking show some restraint. Not just because the last thing on earth I fucking needed right now was to get some girl knocked up. It's just that there was something about her, something vulnerable, that made me feel protective and shit. She put off this casual attitude, like stuff didn't get under her skin, but she was running from that shitbag boyfriend of hers.
She had to be on the rebound.
I didn't like the fucking idea of taking advantage of that shit. At least not until she was thinking clearly.
She kissed me lightly on the lips. "Join me in bed," she whispered.
I kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be back in a second," I said, turning to dig in my bag for a toothbrush. "Just need to hit the head."
River stretched out on the bed on her stomach, her ass in the air, and I had to turn away, the image of me taking her from behind, sliding my cock inside her, too vivid in my mind's eye.
"The head?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at me.
"The bathroom," I said. "Navy term."
"Ah."
When I came out of the bathroom, River was still in the same position, her hair all mussed, spiked every which way. Because of me, running my hands through it, grabbing it.
The image of her on her knees flashed in my mind.
"Do you take your prosthetic off when you sleep?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Are you going to take it off?" she asked.
"Why?" I felt immediately like she was scrutinizing me, even though she wasn't looking at me, her head resting on her arms, facing the opposite direction. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow.
"Because I want you to feel comfortable," she said. "And I thought since you just had your fingers in my pussy that you might feel comfortable taking your prosthetic off in front of me."
"Fuck," I said. "I never thought I'd hear that word coming out of the mouth of the girl who does movies like My First Love."
"Pussy?" she asked. "I could have said cunt. Would that have been better?"
"Shit." I laughed.
"Did I make you blush? Are you blushing?"
"Fuck, no," I said. "I'm laughing at you. You're direct, I'll give you that."
"Well, take it off and get in bed with me," she said. "How's that for direct?"
I sat on the side of the bed and rolled down the sock that covered the outside of the device. I could feel her eyes on me.
"Hey, I thought you said you hadn't watched any of my movies?"
I sighed as I pressed the pin at the bottom of the prosthetic and pulled it off. "You caught me," I said.
"You're a secret River Andrews fan?" she asked. "I could see that." She moved over and rolled onto her side, her head propped up on her arm, watching me.
I rolled the inside sock and liner off and slid into bed next to her, lying on my side, facing her. "I'm becoming more of a River Andrews fan now," I said, reaching between her legs.
She laughed and smacked my hand away. "You're incorrigible."
"Big word. Don't know what it means," I lied, grinning. "If it means hard, then yeah, I am." I held her palm against my cock.
Her hand traveled down the length of my cock, cupped my balls. "You're not disappointed we didn't have sex?"
"Fuck yeah, I'm disappointed," I said. "I'm going to the store first thing tomorrow and buying the largest fucking size box of condoms they have. Fuck it. I'm going to buy everything they have in stock. Then I'm coming here, and I'm going to stick my cock in you so many times you're not going to be able to walk for a week."
River laughed. "Is that a promise?"
I kissed her slowly, catching her lower lip in between my teeth and gently pulling on it as I slipped a finger inside her. Then I let her lip go. "That's a fucking promise."
She was quiet for a minute, her focus entirely consumed by what my hand was doing between her legs and by what she was doing with my cock. "Wait. So you watched my movies this afternoon or what?" she asked, her voice dropping in volume and becoming breathier as I fingered her.
"I looked you up on the internet on my phone after I left here," I admitted. She paused, mid-stroke.
"And?" she asked. "Did you find out all my secrets?" Her tone was light, but the way that she looked at me wasn't.
"Nah," I said. "Secrets should be left alone, don't you think? I just wanted to see what movies you were in so I didn't feel like such an idiot for not knowing who you were."
She looked at me for a long moment, and then leaned close to me, kissing me on the lips. It was soft, tender this time. "You're a good man, Elias," she said.
I didn't answer
her, didn't explain to her that I was one of the Saint brothers, that in the eyes of the residents of West Bend we were definitely not good men. I knew what it was like to have secrets you didn't want to reveal.
I just let her keep doing what she was doing with her hand on my cock, while I brought her to orgasm again. Afterward, she slid down my body, took me in her mouth, her hands on my thighs.
Later, she lay with her head on my chest and I stroked her hair absently, looking at one of the pictures on the wall, this black and white photograph of the mountains outside of town, an area I recognized from years ago. I could hear her breathe, slow and deep, but every so often I felt her eyelashes brush against my skin, so I knew she wasn't sleeping. All the same, she was quiet, and seemed content enough just lying here.
I felt content enough too, which was a weird fucking feeling for me.
"I haven't done anything like this since- oh hell, I can't remember how long it's been," River said, finally breaking the silence
"Like what?" I asked, half-listening.
"Fooling around like this but not having sex."
I ran my hand up and down the middle of her back. "So?" I asked. "How is it, not having sex?"
She chuckled. "Pretty good," she said. "Of course, I've been going without for a while now."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "You had a fiancé." I didn't want to fucking talk about her fiancé, and I found myself being the one to bring him up. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, probing into River's past.
"Yeah," she said. "We hadn't exactly been having sex. Not for a while."
"Oh," I said. I didn't know why the fuck I felt so pleased to hear her say that. It's not like her sex life was any of my business. I just didn't like the idea of some other guy touching her. I felt strangely territorial about her. It wasn't like me. "Me either."
"You either what?"
I exhaled loudly. "Sex. I haven't had sex either - not in a long time," I said, intending to leave it at that. But my fucking mouth just kept talking, as if of its own accord. "Not since the explosion."
I didn't know what the fuck my problem was - I wasn't self-conscious about the prosthetic when it came to anything else. Everything else in my routine was back to normal.
Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance Page 33
