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Elian sat back on his knees again, reaching for my legs, pressing them together, then pushing them both to one side, resting on the mattress at an angle, changing the sensation, increasing the friction, as he started to thrust faster again.
It shouldn’t have been possible again, let alone so quickly, but it wasn’t long before my moans were filling the room, before my walls were tightening, then pulsating hard as another orgasm screamed through my system.
This time, Elian didn’t pause to let me come back down.
Instead, he grabbed me, turning me onto my belly, then grabbing my hips, and pulling them back toward him as he fucked me faster still, his fingers digging into my flesh on one hip as the other slid between my thighs, engaging my clit as he took me harder and harder, driving me right to that cliff, then sending me hurtling over, crying out as I came. But, this time, I took Elian with me, feeling him rock harder, then slam deep, cursing out.
There was nothing after, save for the sounds of our ragged breathing, and the feel of Elian’s thumb lightly caressing the skin of my hip as he slowly came back down from his release.
He leaned over me, pressing a kiss to my shoulder before moving away from me, heading into the en suite bathroom for a moment.
Alone, I rolled onto my back, and scooted under the covers, feeling a looseness in my muscles I hadn’t felt in ages. An ease in my soul that I’d almost forgotten existed.
It lasted all of, oh, twenty seconds, before it all came rushing back.
Getting the confession.
The gunman.
The senator getting shot.
Hiding in the bathroom.
Coming out. The blood. The scuffle. The paramedics and police. The press.
My chest felt crushed in a vice, and there was a steady throbbing in my temples when Elian came back out of the bathroom.
One look at me, and his gaze went sad.
“Oh, honey,” he said, coming into the bed, sitting back against the headboard, and pulling me against his chest.
His hands went up, fingers pressing into my temples, and rubbing with a firm pressure that eased some of the pain simmering.
“Are you alright?” he asked as I let myself enjoy the feel of him, the sense of calm and security he provided.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “There’s… a lot to think about.”
“Want to think out loud?” he offered.
“What do I do now?” I asked.
“Now that the senator is shot, you mean?” he asked.
“Yeah, I mean… wouldn’t turning over the recording be like kicking a man when he’s down?”
“Elizabeth, consider this, that gunman was there to shoot you… because of him.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, sucking in a deep breath to try to tamp down the guilt that I had no business holding onto.
I hadn’t caused any of this.
In fact, I’d been actively trying to stop it by getting the senator to confess to his criminal activity, so he would no longer be able to use his office to aide and abet terrible crimes.
“I think you should go through with giving it to the police,” Elian said. “But if you don’t feel comfortable doing that, I will support that decision too.”
“You’re not worried?” I asked.
“Worried about what?”