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“You look fucking amazing.” His eyes hungrily roamed over my body.
I did look fucking amazing. I’d dressed to look like myself, my old self. Not the new Calliope who owned jeans and tee shirts and wore them together with her hair down, minimal makeup.
I wore a tailored Yves Saint Laurent pencil skirt, white. It skimmed over every one of my curves, finishing at my knee. My blouse was a delicate lace, exquisitely crafted. Hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of my neck that was already making my temples throb. My new freckles were covered in makeup, making my skin look flawless, porcelain.
My body reacted to his look of appreciation, tingles erupting all over my skin and my pussy pulsating in anticipation even though I told my reproductive organs that it was not the time.
Elliot didn’t get that message, his pupils dilating. “Bend over.” His tone was unstable as he seamlessly morphed from the smiling, affectionate man to the commanding Dom.
Even though I had put a lot of thought into how our goodbye was going to go—me being a total ruthless witch, making him hate me and never wanting to see me again—I couldn’t get my bitch on.
I couldn’t refuse Elliot. And I greedily wanted to walk into war with him coating my insides.
Happily, I turned away from him. I wanted that closeness, the ecstasy that came from having sex with him, but I didn’t want to have to look at him.
The second my elbow hit the back of the sofa, Elliot used his legs to gently part mine, hands at my hips, presenting my ass to him. Then he rolled the hem of my skirt up to my waist.
He let out a low hiss as he saw my panties, my garter. Elliot never tired of my lingerie, always appreciating, worshipping the costly fabric. He might have been a simple man, but he had expensive taste in lingerie.
His fingers swiped at the soaking material, making me twitch in anticipation.
“Can’t decide if I’ll tease you a little or just fuck you till you scream.” He toyed with me over the top of my panties.
I was already panting, my worries fading away. Nothing mattered except the feel of Elliot’s fingers.
He pulled the fabric to the side, then I heard the rattle of his belt, the only thing preparing me before he slammed into me, filling me completely.
I saw stars as he bottomed out inside of me, the angle intense, almost too intense. Elliot moved with expert precision, knowing my body because he’d spent months learning it. Learning me.
His grip on my hip was the perfect pressure, a finger toying with my clit enough to enhance my pleasure but not enough to make me come until he decided.
I let myself go one more time, surrendering to him, knowing I didn’t need to make a single decision. He had me.
I was safe.
For a few more minutes, at least.
Elliot was no slouch, but it didn’t last as long as it needed to. It needed to last for the rest of my life. In his head, this was just a steamy quickie, not goodbye sex. Not that Elliot would ever agree to goodbye if he knew that's what it was.
I wanted to whimper as he pulled his semi-hard cock out of me, cum trickling with it. He quickly used his shirt to clean me up.
“I’ll go get a?—”
“No,” I harshly cut him off, wiping the tears from my eyes.
I pushed off the sofa, straightening my back and turning to face him, shirtless, jeans undone. There was a crease between his brow at my jarring tone.
“I’m going to New York.” I pulled my skirt back down, forcing the warmth from our coupling to run out of me like water down a drain.
I stepped back, even though leaving his embrace was about as hard as I thought gnawing through my own hand to escape chains might be.
Except Elliot wasn’t a chain. He was my anchor. To a life that wasn’t really mine. One I didn’t deserve and surely would’ve set an atomic bomb to at some point. Better to get ending it over and done with.
Elliot’s eyes narrowed. “New York?” Worry settled in the lines of his face. He understood what New York was. What waited there for me. I watched his teeth gnash together, him clench and unclench his fist.
Although Elliot didn’t outwardly resemble the alpha males in my life, and in a lot of ways he didn’t inwardly resemble them either, his knee-jerk reaction to me being in any kind of danger was to step in. Even though he would’ve been way out of his depth.
“Is that a good idea?” he asked skeptically.