Page 28
Story: The Anchor Holds
I heard the box rustle and foil crinkle. Elliot came back to the foot of the bed where he rolled the condom on with deft, sure hands. Not an act I’d previously considered erotic, but there was Elliot Shaw, proving me wrong about yet another thing.
At this rate, he would convince me the Earth was flat before the night was out.
“We’ll be using those toys at a later date,” he promised me, hooded eyes darting to the bedside table.
“Most men are threatened by them,” I told him honestly, my voice huskier than I’d expected.
“I’m not threatened by anything in this bedroom, Calliope,” Elliot flashed me his teeth. I didn’t miss his double meaning. “And no way in fuck will I be threatened by something that will show me all the ways I can make you scream.”
Cue pussy quiver. Mini orgasm.
Elliot held his cock by its base, stepping forward. “You’re going to spread your legs for me and take it like a good girl.”
My body reveled in the command. On instinct, I did just that, my legs parting before my brain could even catch up. It was only after I’d presented myself to him that I realized it.
Elliot, the blond-haired, easygoing fisherman was a … Dom. Maybe not the whips and chains type—well, not that I could decipher yet—but he most definitely was not easygoing in the bedroom.
And me, not ever, not once in my life had I been interested in submitting. Not outside the bedroom and certainly not in it. Especially since it was Jasper more often than not warming my bed. Submitting to him was dangerous. I always had my guard up with him, even with all of my clothes off.
I opened my mouth, my limbs tightening as I remembered that. Remembered who the fuck I was. I was Calliope Derrick, and no man ordered me around.
“Not a fucking word,” Elliot instructed coolly as he covered my body with his. “You can spit whatever fire you want with me out there.” He nodded to the door. “You can call the shots. Doesn’t hurt my manhood. In fact, it makes me as hard as a goddamn rock. But in here, I’m in charge, and you’re mineto command.” He spoke easily, with confidence that I’d obey without hesitation.
Again, all bad things. I should’ve been protesting. Fighting. Not growing more and more overcome with need. With relief that with Elliot, sex wasn’t some power play. My body was already slackening with the sensation that I didn’t have to hold every muscle taut as a defense mechanism.
Although his hard cock was pushing at my entrance, Elliot didn’t seem to be in any rush. His heated gaze searched my expression before landing on where my lips had parted and my breath was coming in sharp pants. He brushed his thumb across my lower lip then parted them so he could insert his fingers.
On instinct, I sucked them, grazing them with my teeth to ensure he didn’t forget I could bite too. He released his fingers with a sly and sultry grin, his hips rocking forward a millimeter.
My body shuddered with the sensation, and I tried to buck upward, but he leaned back.
“You haven’t done this before,” he deduced correctly, somehow. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
All of this should’ve killed and buried any and all attraction I felt for the man. Submission wasn’t sexy.
Being taken care of wasn’t sexy.
Unless it was with Elliot Shaw.
Then it was hot as fuck.
My body arched off the bed as he finally rocked his hips forward to fill me up with that perfect cock that did indeed fit inside my pussy like it was custom-made for the space.
My nails scraped against his back, drawing out a satisfied grunt.
He didn’t move once he was fully seated, didn’t give me that feral fucking I was craving so my mind didn’t have to be present, so I didn’t have to admit that this wasn’t just sex.
Elliot was pausing, forcing me to be in the moment, locked into the storm of his gaze.
“You’re safe with me, Calliope Derrick.” His voice was strained, presumably because of the effort it took for him to pause. It was like there was an animal inside him, growling to be unleashed upon me. And I craved that animal.Thatwas familiar.
The promise of safety wasn’t.
Elliot kept me pinned, as if he knew my body was battling pleasure and discomfort over his intimate gaze in the midst of the most intimate act.
“You’ll come when I say.” He leaned down to lay his lips on mine. “Not before.”
“I’ll come when my body wants,” I shot back. “You’re not in control of that.”
At this rate, he would convince me the Earth was flat before the night was out.
“We’ll be using those toys at a later date,” he promised me, hooded eyes darting to the bedside table.
“Most men are threatened by them,” I told him honestly, my voice huskier than I’d expected.
“I’m not threatened by anything in this bedroom, Calliope,” Elliot flashed me his teeth. I didn’t miss his double meaning. “And no way in fuck will I be threatened by something that will show me all the ways I can make you scream.”
Cue pussy quiver. Mini orgasm.
Elliot held his cock by its base, stepping forward. “You’re going to spread your legs for me and take it like a good girl.”
My body reveled in the command. On instinct, I did just that, my legs parting before my brain could even catch up. It was only after I’d presented myself to him that I realized it.
Elliot, the blond-haired, easygoing fisherman was a … Dom. Maybe not the whips and chains type—well, not that I could decipher yet—but he most definitely was not easygoing in the bedroom.
And me, not ever, not once in my life had I been interested in submitting. Not outside the bedroom and certainly not in it. Especially since it was Jasper more often than not warming my bed. Submitting to him was dangerous. I always had my guard up with him, even with all of my clothes off.
I opened my mouth, my limbs tightening as I remembered that. Remembered who the fuck I was. I was Calliope Derrick, and no man ordered me around.
“Not a fucking word,” Elliot instructed coolly as he covered my body with his. “You can spit whatever fire you want with me out there.” He nodded to the door. “You can call the shots. Doesn’t hurt my manhood. In fact, it makes me as hard as a goddamn rock. But in here, I’m in charge, and you’re mineto command.” He spoke easily, with confidence that I’d obey without hesitation.
Again, all bad things. I should’ve been protesting. Fighting. Not growing more and more overcome with need. With relief that with Elliot, sex wasn’t some power play. My body was already slackening with the sensation that I didn’t have to hold every muscle taut as a defense mechanism.
Although his hard cock was pushing at my entrance, Elliot didn’t seem to be in any rush. His heated gaze searched my expression before landing on where my lips had parted and my breath was coming in sharp pants. He brushed his thumb across my lower lip then parted them so he could insert his fingers.
On instinct, I sucked them, grazing them with my teeth to ensure he didn’t forget I could bite too. He released his fingers with a sly and sultry grin, his hips rocking forward a millimeter.
My body shuddered with the sensation, and I tried to buck upward, but he leaned back.
“You haven’t done this before,” he deduced correctly, somehow. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
All of this should’ve killed and buried any and all attraction I felt for the man. Submission wasn’t sexy.
Being taken care of wasn’t sexy.
Unless it was with Elliot Shaw.
Then it was hot as fuck.
My body arched off the bed as he finally rocked his hips forward to fill me up with that perfect cock that did indeed fit inside my pussy like it was custom-made for the space.
My nails scraped against his back, drawing out a satisfied grunt.
He didn’t move once he was fully seated, didn’t give me that feral fucking I was craving so my mind didn’t have to be present, so I didn’t have to admit that this wasn’t just sex.
Elliot was pausing, forcing me to be in the moment, locked into the storm of his gaze.
“You’re safe with me, Calliope Derrick.” His voice was strained, presumably because of the effort it took for him to pause. It was like there was an animal inside him, growling to be unleashed upon me. And I craved that animal.Thatwas familiar.
The promise of safety wasn’t.
Elliot kept me pinned, as if he knew my body was battling pleasure and discomfort over his intimate gaze in the midst of the most intimate act.
“You’ll come when I say.” He leaned down to lay his lips on mine. “Not before.”
“I’ll come when my body wants,” I shot back. “You’re not in control of that.”
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