Page 38 of Ruthless Desires, Vol. Two (Ruthless Desires Series Extended Editions #2)

Wren

In the morning, Elliot is already out of bed by the time I wake up. All of us wanted to return to the safety of home as soon as possible yesterday, so we decided not to stay at the safe house overnight. I barely remember pulling Elliot into my bedroom and crawling under the covers with him.

Even though I’m still exhausted, I force myself to get up. I’ve never been one to stay in bed for long after I’m awake. I get too restless.

Once I’ve peed, brushed my teeth, and washed my face, I consider finding Elliot. But if he got up early, he probably wants some alone time or something like that.

The guys packed up all my books from my apartment and brought them over, but I haven’t had the energy to arrange them on my shelves yet. I’m not sure I have the energy now, but I need something to distract myself with.

I was hoping that a good night’s sleep would calm my nerves, but I’m just as much of a wreck as I was yesterday. I’m not nervous about the wedding anymore, but we still have to find a way to rescue Andrew and Benny.

After that… I’m not entirely sure what. Elliot said the contents of the hard drive are exactly what we need, but I’m not sure what we’re going to do with all of it.

Just as I finish setting up a shelf of fantasy books, I frown. I love this series, but am I really going to reread it anytime soon? So maybe I should put it lower down. Or higher? Or—

A clunk behind me makes me jump. When I turn, Elliot is setting down a tray on my dresser. Two steaming cups of coffee sit on it along with a bowl of fruit. Warmth washes over me at the sight.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d be up yet,”

he says as he carefully picks up one of the mugs.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, either. You okay?”

I almost give him a default, “Oh, I’m fine,”

answer, but I stop myself. Elliot didn’t ask the question as a formality. He truly wants to know.

With a sigh, I lean against my shelf.

“I guess I have a lot on my mind.”

Worry flickers in Elliot’s eyes as he steps up to me. His fingers brush over my cheek, and I lean into his hand. However simple and small it is, his touch sends a wave of calm through me.

“Talk to me,”

he says softly.

But I shake my head and slip my arms around his neck. Gently, I tug him down until his lips brush against mine. With a groan, Elliot kisses me lightly and grabs onto my waist. His hips press into mine, pinning me in between his body and the bookshelf.

This. This is what I need, not talking through my worries.

I just need to… let go.

It may not be a permanent solution, but that’s not what I’m looking for. Besides, we have Ludo completely fooled. We deserve to celebrate and relax a little.

“Love.”

Elliot barely moves back, and I can practically feel the desire rolling off him. But a question shines in his eyes. He needs to know that I’m at least somewhat okay.

“We can talk later,”

I tell him.

“But right now, I don’t want to think, let alone talk. I just want my damn brain to shut off.”

He nods slowly, searching my face. Only once he’s satisfied with what he’s found does he lean in again. He doesn’t kiss me—just inhales deeply and presses his lips to my jawbone.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

His low voice combined with the thought of him doing whatever I ask makes me shiver in anticipation.

“Tie me up?”

“That could be…”

Elliot hums before squeezing my waist.

“If you want to.”

That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping I’d get from him, but it’s the one I should’ve expected. We’re all exhausted. Of course he doesn’t have the energy for that. It was unfair of me to even ask.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“Sorry?”

He pulls back slightly so he can look me in the eye.

“Wren, it’d be my pleasure.”

“You… you’re sure?”

“Completely. I understand. Sometimes you need help to get to a place where you can fully relax.”

“But what about you?”

“It has a similar effect on me,”

he says.

“Do you only want me to tie you up? Or do you want more?”

“More, please. As long as you do.”

“Oh, definitely.”

His lips curve upward.

“Besides, it’s about time I got my payback.”

Oh, shit. A wave of giddy desire washes over me, and I grin.

“I was wondering if you forgot.”

His chuckle is low and dark. “Never.”

I press my lips to his. Elliot doesn’t let the kiss last long, though. When I try to lean in for more, he stops me.

“Remember, love. You don’t get what you want until I say so.”

He pulls me away from the shelf.

“And I plan on making you wait a long, long time.”

I groan as Elliot leaves to grab some ropes from his room. I’m not entirely sure what I’ve gotten into. Oliver said he’ll tease me for hours without letting me come, but that has to be an exaggeration, right? I suppose I’m about to find out.

By the time Elliot comes back, I’m practically vibrating with nervous energy. He smiles and nods to the bed. When I sit on the end of it, I watch his reflection in the mirror as he approaches. It’s then that I realize that the mirror was probably placed in that spot very much on purpose.

“I’ve never had sex in front of a mirror before,”

I blurt as Elliot tugs my T-shirt over my head.

“No? It’s fun. I think you’ll like it. Up.”

I stand, and he pushes my leggings and underwear down. Once I’ve stepped out of them, he frowns with his gaze fixed on my leg.

“What happened?”

I glance down, following his eyes to the bandage on my thigh.

“Oh. Rhett did that. I asked him to.”

At that, Elliot smiles. I reach for the hem of his shirt, but he pushes my hands away.

“What did I tell you, love?”

I huff.

“I don’t get what I want until you say so.”

“That’s right. And I suggest you be a good girl and listen, or this is going to be a lot harder on you than necessary.”

A whimper escapes my lips unbidden as Elliot pulls my bralette off and tosses it onto the floor. I know this will be worth it—Elliot always makes sure I’m more than satisfied—but it’ll be torture first.

“Will Oliver and Rhett be disappointed that they’re missing out?”

I ask. We didn’t get a chance to celebrate last night, and I don’t want them to feel left out.

“Nah. I don’t think either of them slept that well. I checked, and they’re both still passed out in Rhett’s bed.”

Elliot grabs one of the bundles of rope.

“Which means you’re completely mine for the next couple of hours.”

Elliot pushes me onto the bed before crawling on with me and positioning one of my ankles.

“Keep it like that for the moment.”

I stay still, watching as he loops the rope around my ankle. His movements are filled with a confidence that I find very attractive, and the way he ties me with such care sets me at ease.

As Elliot continues, my breathing deepens, and tension I didn’t realize I was holding in my muscles flows out of me. By the time I’m on my back and tied spread-eagle to the bed, my mind is blissfully empty.

“How do you feel?”

Elliot double-checks the tightness of the ropes before running a finger down the center of my body.

My response is a satisfied, happy hum. I do my best to stretch toward him, hoping he’ll give me a kiss, but he doesn’t.

“If you start to get uncomfortable, just tell me.”

“I will,”

I reply as I eye his lips. I know better than to ask for a kiss, but god do I want one.

Elliot moves off the bed.

“You’re gonna hate me for this next part.”

“You mean I’m gonna hate myself.”

I wiggle and tug my wrists to test the ropes.

“I could’ve backed out. I chose not to.”

A smile tugs at his mouth, and he lowers himself into the reading chair by my bookshelves. When he settles in and gets comfortable, my heart skips a beat.

“What are you doing?”

His gaze roams over my body, leaving me squirming with want.

“Enjoying seeing you tied up like this.”

My jaw drops. This whole time, I was thinking he’d at least be touching me in some capacity. Teasing me, edging me, using me. But he’s not even going to do that.

This isn’t fair. I almost say the words out loud before I catch myself. This is exactly what I signed up for.

At first, I try to accept my fate. It’s not like he’ll keep me here forever, right? Elliot’s patience will run out eventually. But the longer he stares at me, the harder it is for me to find my patience. I’m completely on display for him, and he hasn’t taken off an inch of clothing.

I’m not sure how long it’s been when I finally pull against the ropes binding my wrists. A pitiful whimper escapes my mouth, and Elliot smirks.

How long is he going to just sit there?

“Regretting your decision, love?”

I smirk back.

“Worth it.”

He crosses one leg over the other as his smile widens.

“We’ll see if you’re still saying that in an hour.”

I bite back my groan. Elliot doesn’t budge. I’m literally aching for his touch, but he just continues moving his eyes across my body. I can practically feel his gaze, especially when it lingers between my legs.

“I think I should do this more often,”

he says softly.

“You look so pretty tied up for me.”

Goddammit. How long is he going to hold out?

I glance around for a clock to see how long I’ve been tied up, but all I find are things that make this whole situation more tortuous. Memories flood my mind when my eyes land on the painting above my dresser. The things Elliot said to me that evening will forever be burned into my brain.

Next, I lift my head and catch my reflection in the mirror. I can’t see much except for my spread legs and how soaked I am. With a soft moan, I avert my eyes to keep looking for a clock, but I come up empty.

I’m going to die of pure need if he doesn’t get up soon.

In the end, I’m not sure how long Elliot stays in that chair for. Watching, waiting, teasing me with his gaze. Eventually, I can’t hold back a groan any longer. I signed myself up for Elliot paying me back like this, but I need his hands on me. Or his lips, or his mouth, or his cock buried deep inside me.

“Ell.”

He chuckles.

“Begging already? I thought you’d last longer than this.”

With a huff, I press my lips together. Damn him.

Standing, he circles the bed until he’s standing at the base of it. The hunger in his eyes hasn’t died down. In fact, it’s only grown. Still, he keeps his hands buried in his pockets. As his gaze moves down my body, he clicks his tongue.

“You’re soaked, and I haven’t even touched you yet. Such a desperate slut, aren’t you?”

I give him my best glare.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah? And what’re you gonna do about it?”

“Ohhh, fuck you!”

He laughs.

“You wish.”

I. am. going. to. DIE.

“Just one touch,”

I beg.

“Or one kiss?”

Elliot takes a single finger and traces it from my throat to my belly button. All it does is make me need him more. The ache between my legs intensifies, but there isn’t a thing I can do to relieve it.

“You already did this to me on your birthday,”

I whine.

“Can’t that count toward my punishment?”

“I told you then that it wouldn’t, love.”

Crawling onto the bed, he strokes a hand over my hair before leaning down. He doesn’t kiss me, though—he stays right outside of my reach.

“And I know you can handle it.”

“But Elliot—”

“You’ll get what you need, I promise.”

He pulls back and places a hand on my stomach. It’s a light touch, one of reassurance.

“Eventually.”

I hold back my groan as Elliot’s hand travels down my body. When his fingers hit my inner thigh, I can’t help it—I try to shift to get some kind of friction against his hand.

“Ah ah, Wren. I don’t think so.”

He continues to use a feather-light touch as his fingers brush against my skin.

“Please,”

I whisper.

“Beg all you want, love, but you’re not coming.”

For what feels like an eternity and a half, Elliot runs his hands all over my body. He avoids any spot that’d give me relief, choosing instead to massage my calves, squeeze my breasts, and pepper my skin with kisses.

Eventually, I relax into it. From the moment Elliot sat in that chair, he hasn’t looked away from me—not even for a second. This may be payback, but it also feels like a form of worship. His touch is gentle and caring, and he’s so attentive to every movement and sound I make.

When his finger finally brushes against one of my hard nipples, I gasp. His chuckle sends warmth spiraling through me.

“Beautiful.”

The word falls from Elliot’s lips as a whisper. His breath skates across my skin as he leans over me and takes one of my nipples into his mouth.

Just like that, tension floods my body again. I pull on the restraints, arching my back into him. He sucks gently and flicks his tongue while he pinches my other nipple in between his fingers.

The ache inside of me intensifies. I was hoping this would provide some relief, but it only makes me need Elliot more.

“Please,”

I whisper hoarsely.

Elliot’s hand leaves my breast and slowly trails down my body. Of course, he keeps his pace slothfully slow, and it only serves to draw even more tension into my muscles.

When his finger finally brushes over my clit, I choke on air. But his touch disappears a moment later, and he moves away from me.

Is he trying to kill me?

“Lift your head,”

he says, his voice dripping with lust. At least he’s having trouble holding himself back.

“Look at how wet you are.”

I do as he says, and heat rushes through me. From this angle, I can just make out a wet spot on my new blanket.

“Such a messy girl.”

He shakes his head as his mouth tips up in a devious smile.

“What am I going to do with you?”

I resist the urge—no, the need—to beg for his touch. Still, my expression is pleading as he watches me.

Finally, he moves in between my spread legs and settles on his knees. He doesn’t touch me—just looks—and a deep satisfaction blooms in his eyes.

It became apparent our very first night together that Elliot loves this. The surrender of power and control. The ability to drive someone out of their mind with need. He’s always loved holding my orgasms hostage, and secretly, I’ve always loved it, too.

Even now, however desperate I am to come, I wouldn’t want anything else with him. He may put my body through a roller coaster of highs and lows, of want and deprivation, but I trust him. He didn’t have to tell me that he’ll give me what I need—I already know.

So when his finger finally slides over my clit, I let out a sigh of relief and close my eyes. His movements stay slow and lazy, but I’m so sensitive and worked up that it doesn’t make much difference. Within minutes, I’m teetering on the edge of an orgasm. My breaths are heavier, and heat rushes through my body. I whimper, arching my back as I’m about to come, and—

Elliot pulls his hand away.

“No,” I cry.

“Shh,”

he whispers soothingly.

“Patience, love.”

Four more times, he brings me right to the edge but doesn’t let me come. I’m a gasping, sweaty mess—a direct opposite of Elliot right now.

Still dressed.

Still infuriatingly calm.

Still working my clit lazily.

Slowly, Elliot slips a finger into me. He curls it, hooking it inside of me, before he twists. His finger drags across my g-spot in a way that yanks an unexpected cry from my throat.

“Fuck,”

he whispers.

“Again,”

I moan.

“Please, Elliot.”

I figure he won’t, which makes me cry out again when he does. He slides another finger into me while using his thumb to massage tight circles over my clit.

“Look at you,”

he says lowly.

“Squirming on my hand and soaking my fingers like a greedy slut. You want to come?”

“Yes,” I gasp.

Mischief sparks in his eyes, and I’m sure he’s going to pull away at the last second again. Just as I brace myself for a letdown, he curls his fingers into me harder. Electricity shoots through my veins, and within seconds, I’m coming.

My orgasm knocks the breath out of my lungs and leaves me trembling. Liquid gushes onto Elliot’s fingers, probably soaking my blanket, but he doesn’t stop. Only when the sensations become too much and I try to twist away from his touch does he remove his hand.

“I love when you squirt for me,”

Elliot says, not taking his eyes off his glistening fingers.

“Such a good girl.”

My only response is a helpless whimper. It takes me a minute to clear the haziness in my mind, and by the time I do, Elliot is partway done with untying me.

Once he’s done with my arms, I push myself up onto my elbows. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror—wild-eyed, still panting, and an absolute mess.

I watch as Elliot sets the ropes to the side and climbs onto the bed. He doesn’t tell me what position to get into. He just takes me into his arms and flips me over so I’m on my hands and knees facing the foot of the bed.

And facing the mirror.

He moves me over a little to avoid the wet spot I left before smacking my ass, barely hard enough to hurt. I drop to my elbows and moan into the blankets as he massages the spot he hit.

“I need more,”

I groan. That orgasm was strong enough to throw any patience I had left out the window. I want Elliot to do that to me again and again.

“But you’re doing so well for me,”

he croons. A finger brushes over my entrance before barely pushing inside.

“More, Ell.”

With a click of his tongue, he removes his finger and strokes my ass.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl, Wren?”

I scream into the mattress.

“I know you do.”

Leaning forward, he kisses the small of my back. He works his way up my spine until his body is covering mine. In my ear, he whispers, “I know you can take it.”

I whimper as he straightens and goes back to torturing me. He plays with my clit lightly while watching my expressions in the mirror.

“At least take your clothes off?”

I ask.

“Please? I want to see you.”

He pulls his T-shirt over his head before working his pants and boxer briefs off his legs. “Better?”

“Much,”

I say with a content sigh. I watch his reflection in the mirror, taking in every inch of bare skin I can see. His butterfly tattoo is visible on his ribcage, and I have to stop myself from turning around and running my fingers over it.

“Ell?”

“Hmm?”

“Please fuck me.”

He smiles and runs his hand over the curve of my ass. Based on how he’s been looking at me, I’m pretty sure he’s running out of self-control. At least, that’s my hope.

Elliot lines his cock up and just barely slides into me.

“Touch your clit, and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

I lower myself so my cheek is resting on the blanket, and then I snake one hand underneath me. As I begin rubbing my clit, he slides in an inch, and then another.

“Elliot, ohmygod.”

“I know,”

he murmurs. He keeps one hand braced on my hip, and with the other, he strokes the backs of his fingers over my ass.

“Please don’t stop,”

I whisper. When he finally slides out and then all the way back in, I gasp.

“Just relax.”

His voice is low and soothing as he fucks me with slow, even thrusts.

“I’ve got you.”

“I—I can’t. Elliot, it feels too good.”

He keeps moving inside of me, and I feel myself clamping down on his cock. It makes him swear under his breath, and he finally picks up his pace.

“Shit, Wren.”

I move my hips to meet his thrusts. Every movement, every touch, pulls me deeper into a state of palpable need. My moans fill the air as I move my fingers faster.

So close. God, so close.

“Stop,”

Elliot says.

It almost kills me, but I let my hand fall onto the mattress.

Elliot pulls me up until my shoulders hit his chest. He locks an arm around my waist to keep me against him, and then his free hand dips in between my legs. When he finds my clit, I can’t help but clench around his cock.

I angle my face toward him. The position is a little awkward, but his lips meet mine anyway. He groans against my mouth as he lightly pinches my clit between his fingers.

A shudder rolls through me, and I grab onto his arm. He’s going to make me come if he keeps this up.

“Watch yourself,”

Elliot commands, nudging my head so I’m looking at myself in the mirror.

“Watch how well you take my cock.”

I do, staring at the spot where he’s sliding in and out of me. All I can do is let out a choked whimper as he drives into me harder. The image I find in the mirror serves to heighten the sensations he’s pulling from me.

Not only am I a complete wreck, but I’m only held up by his arm around me. My arousal coats my inner thighs as well as Elliot’s dick, reminding me just how wet he’s made me.

“That’s it,”

Elliot grunts.

“Taking it like the good girl you are.”

He rubs my clit harder, faster, until I can’t hold back any longer. I meet his gaze questioningly in the mirror, desperately hoping for permission.

I barely last two seconds after he nods.

I know better than to try and quiet my cries. So as Elliot slams into me, I don’t hold back. He whispers little praises in my ear as I ride wave after wave of my orgasm.

“Ell, that was—”

We hear a thud from the other side of the hall—Rhett’s room—and then a loud groan.

Oh god. Are they—

“You hear that, love? You hear what you’re doing to them?”

Elliot leaves a trail of hot kisses down my neck.

“You and your screams.”

Oliver and Rhett don’t bother keeping it down. I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow, it turns me on even more than I already am.

With a groan, Elliot lowers me onto the bed so I’m on my stomach. He grabs a pillow and slides it under my hips before kissing my shoulder.

The mattress dips as Elliot gets into position. His cock hits the perfect spot inside me, and I cry out as he starts fucking me again. His thrusts are more forceful than before, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Based on the breathless moans coming from Elliot, he’s close. I do my best to meet his thrusts, raising my head so I can watch him in the mirror. He locks eyes with me just as he comes.

Satisfaction blooms deep inside of me. There’s nothing like watching another person fall apart and knowing you had something to do with it. The vulnerability, the intimacy, the pleasure—and in this moment, it’s all mine.

Elliot all but collapses, and he barely catches himself before he crushes me under his weight. Groaning, he rolls off me. Just as disappointment creeps in at the cool air replacing his body against mine, he tugs me closer. I sigh happily and turn to face him. His eyes are closed, and his forehead is covered in a light sheen of sweat.

I press my lips to his in a sweet kiss, and a happy noise sounds in the back of his throat.

“I love you,”

I whisper.

“Mmm.”

He nuzzles his face in my neck, and I feel the words against my skin as he murmurs, “I love you, too.”

***

The scent of lavender fills my bathroom as water pours into the tub. Elliot just finished adding in a few drops of essential oil, and I watch as he sets the little bottle on the counter.

I’ve come a long way in regard to my newfound fear of water, but I’m not entirely over it yet. Just looking at the tub makes it harder to breathe, but I know I’m safe. I just have to work through it little by little.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

Elliot’s touch is gentle and reassuring as he turns me to face him.

“I want to. Just, um… can you get in first?”

“Of course, love.”

Elliot steps into the water. Once he’s sitting down, he holds out his hand.

“Just focus on me.”

As I climb in, I keep my attention on Elliot’s firm hold and on how nice the hot water feels against my skin. I take my time turning and lowering myself until I’m sitting in between Elliot’s legs, too afraid of slipping and falling if I go quickly.

His arms encircle my waist, and he pulls me until my back hits his chest.

“Feeling okay?”

“I think so.”

My fingers skim across the surface of the water. Panic threatens to take over my mind, but I keep my breaths even and close my eyes. Leaning my head back on Elliot’s shoulder, I whisper, “I’m safe with you.”

His lips are soft against my jawbone as he murmurs, “Always.”

Eventually, I work up the courage to open my eyes. The water is still and glassy, and I watch the ripples as I lower myself until the water hits my collarbones.

See? Perfectly fine.

“Love?”

“Hmm?”

Elliot pulls me up.

“I was worried you fell asleep.”

“I am pretty tired,”

I admit.

“But I don’t think I can relax that much.”

“Just stay up here with me,”

he says as his thumb rubs against my stomach. “Please.”

“Sorry.”

I give his arm a reassuring squeeze.

Elliot’s right. However much I want to be as far past my fear of water as possible, now isn’t the time to push myself. I should be focused on him right now.

“Are you doing okay?”

I ask him.

“A lot better now that we have the hard drive. I don’t think I’ve ever been that nervous before a job. Not since we were kids, anyway.”

Elliot blows out a long breath.

“I’m still a little worried about Ludo roping us into finding Aubrey, but there’s not much to stress about. We just have to play the part until she contacts him.”

“And that won’t last long.”

“Exactly.”

He pauses for a moment before saying, “I’m mostly concerned for Rhett now. He went straight from finding out Richard has a secret family to scrambling to protect his new brothers. He hasn’t had time to process, and he’s already so angry.”

“It’s almost like Richard abandoned him again,”

I say softly.

“Yeah. And I don’t even know how to help. My parents may suck, but they stuck around, and I know they love me. If anything, I’ve abandoned them. Not that they don’t deserve it. But when it comes to Rhett, I can’t even begin to imagine how he feels. Oliver may be able to understand, but I… I’m lost.”

“What happened to Oliver’s dad?”

“None of us know for sure. He just disappeared one day. Meredith was still pregnant with Maria at the time. She filed a missing person’s report, but the police never found him. Oliver barely remembers him, let alone what happened, and Meredith doesn’t like talking about it. Oliver has always chosen to believe that something happened to his dad. I think it was better than wondering why he wasn’t good enough for his dad to stick around, you know?”

“I do,”

I say.

“My dad didn’t want me.”

“Oh.”

He presses his face into my neck.

“Love, I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

I shrug.

“I’m over it for the most part. It’s not like it was personal. When my mom told my dad she was pregnant with me, he wanted out. Not everyone wants to be a parent. Not everyone has to be. But I still wonder if he thinks about us. If he started his own family when he was ready, and if he’s happy. If he regrets not staying with us. Or if he’s never thought of me since he and my mom parted ways.”

“You deserved better,”

Elliot tells me.

“I used to dream up fantasies of him showing up at our door and taking me away from Patricia and Thomas. But now, I suppose I’m grateful he didn’t.”

“Why?”

I twist so I can look at him.

“Because my life led me to you. And I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

Elliot’s eyes soften, and he presses his lips to mine tenderly. Just as the kiss begins to deepen, a knock on the door startles us both.

Oliver steps in and gives us an apologetic grimace.

“Ell, your phone’s been ringing off the hook. It’s Ludo.”