Page 52

Inside of me, his fingers turned, crooked, and started to stroke over my top wall, making a surprised groan escape me as my legs squeezed together, wanting to feel the sensation more intensely.
Elian’s palm flattened against my cleft, engaging my clit as his fingers moved inside me, as I writhed against his touch.
My breathing got shorter and more frantic as he drove me closer and closer to the edge.
“Come for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough with his own desire.
Like I’d been waiting for the command, I did, crying out as the pleasure shot through me, making my legs shake and my hand shoot out to grab Elian’s wrist, holding on as the waves kept crashing through me.
Elian’s hand slid from between my legs as I was trying to slow my ragged breathing.
Even sated, I wanted him to reach for me, to pull me out of the tub, to carry me to the bed, to strip then surge inside of me.
It was enough to make me need to press my thighs tightly together again to ease the growing ache.
“How about we make something to eat?” he asked, making the haze of desire pull back.
“Hm?” I asked, still a little dazed.
“Food. You’ve got to be hungry,” he said, his voice still rough.
“I, ah, yeah,” I said, though I was feeling nothing but desire right then.
“I brought some clothes. I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” he said.
Then he was standing and walking away. But not before I saw just how impacted he was by what just happened.
Part of me wanted to call out to him, to make him come back, to reach into his pants, free him and take him in my mouth.
But he was gone before I could say anything.
Surprisingly disappointed about that, I hit the drain, then climbed out of the water, drying off and slipping into the clothes Elian had brought me before moving back out of the bathroom.
I’d been a little too distracted on the way in to truly appreciate his bedroom, but now I stopped to take it all in.
The deep merlot color of the walls, the dark wood bed frame, nightstands, and dresser. There were massive walk-in his and hers closets. One was completely empty, despite his being close to overflowing. Like he was keeping it empty for his future wife.
That thought made a strange tightening feeling move across my chest.
Choosing not to let myself spend too much time thinking on that, I made my way back out into the hall, taking a deep breath that wasn’t full of his spicy scent like his bedroom was.
“Heya buddy,” I said, scratching Kevin’s soft head as I passed him in the living room on my way to the kitchen. “So, what are you making?”
“We are making fettuccini Alfredo with chicken and broccoli,” he told me, making my heart feel all warm that he wanted to include me when it would likely be a lot easier to do it all himself. “I had to order the chicken and broccoli, so that is on its way, but we can get started without it. Oh, I also have to tell you something,” he said, giving me a serious look.
“Okay,” I agreed, spine straightening.
“From now on, there is going to be one of my men either outside in the hall up here, or down on the street. Maybe even both. I don’t want you to panic if you happen to look out and see someone hanging around.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, nodding. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did,” he said, going into his pantry to bring out a box of fettuccini.
“What about the sauce?” I asked, then watched as he went from confused to offended to bemused in the span of a blink.
“Do you really think I would be using jarred alfredo sauce?” he asked, shaking his head at me.
“I guess not,” I said, shooting him an upside-down smile.