Page 85 of Stolen Voices

Eyes on his, I nod, letting him take the lead.

He falls to his knees, and takes off my sneakers and socks, then places them aside. His fingers twirl around the drawstrings of my sweatpants as he looks up at me. “Can I keep going?”

“Yes.” I bite back a moan as he unties the drawstring and hooks his fingers in the waistband of my sweatpants. He pushes them down my thighs.

Eli breathes heavily, but, ever the gentleman, he keeps his eyes on mine. Sparks prickle my skin as his warm fingers ever-so-softly trail a line up my calves and thighs before gripping the top of my panties.

He arches a brow, waiting for my consent, and I think I fall a little harder for him.

Elijiah Miller is a true gentleman. He’s not trying to sneak a peek or take advantage of me, even though I would let him.

I bite my lip, obstructing the moan daring to leave my mouth as he hooks his index fingers over the top of my panties. He slides them down my legs, letting them pool around my ankles, where my sweatpants lie at my feet.

The gold fleck in his eyes glows brighter. I can feel the heat from his face, so close to my pussy, that images of him sticking his tongue out and swiping it across my clit send liquid lust rushing to my core. I’m soaked and my pussy pulses, heavy with desire.

Eli takes a deep breath, and his nostrils flare. My hips have a mind of their own and nudge forward in a plea for him to come closer, to taste me.

The man on his knees smirks at me before he rises to his feet and grips the hem of my shirt. He waits for me to once again nod my consent.

“Arms up,” he commands. I obediently do as he asks and am rewarded with a thick and gritty: “Such a good princess.”

I can’t stop the needy whimper in the back of my throat as he turns the moniker into an indecent compliment. Eli, ever the gentleman, ignores the noise and lifts my shirt over my head, slowly sliding it over my body before he tosses it to the side.

One more piece of clothing.

“Bra next,” I tell him before he can ask to remove it.

Eli is about to see me naked.

His fingers brush my ribs as he grips the clasp behind my back and unsnaps it, letting it fall to the floor.

For me, this entire experience has become one giant game of foreplay, turning me into a messy, needy horn-ball. My pussy is wet and begging for him to fill it up. My nipples are so hard they could cut glass.

But why isn’t he looking at me? Not a peek, a quick glance… Nothing. The energy between us is thick and electric. Aside from his labored breathing, Eli seems unaffected as I stand stark naked before him. I stand frozen, waiting for him to make a move.

Does he not find me attractive?

His eyes never waver from mine as he clasps my hand in his and carefully walks me across the tile floor to the standing shower.

Maybe he really isn’t interested in me.

I break eye contact, resisting the urge to cover my body and let my insecurities win, but disappointment and shame are a nasty bitch. I barely hear Eli as he explains where the soaps are and to call if I need something.

As Eli opens the shower door, my heart twists at the sight of the wood chair he carried out of the dining room earlier. Why does he have to be so damn sweet?

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Anything for you, princess,” he says.

For one damn minute, I wish he wasn’t such a good guy and would pull me to his chest and kiss me. Instead, with his hand out for me to use as balance, he looks away. I release his hand as I take a seat under the spray, and he closes the door, giving me privacy.

Letting out a breath, I bask in the warm water as it rolls over my body. When I feel like the water has done a good enough job, rinsing away the lingering stench of hospital and the sharp smell of fear after yesterday’s accident, I reach for the body wash and loofah strategically placed at my side.

I lift the bottle of what appears to be homemade body wash and sniff it. It smells heavenly, like lemon bars on a summer day. Taking my time, I wash my body, recalling the way Eli’s large hands grazed my ribs, so close to my aching breasts. I picture him gripping my torso as he bends forward and takes my nipple into his mouth.

Don’t go there.

I push my naughty thoughts away and reach for the shampoo. Squeezing a generous amount in my palm, I lather the shampoo. I lean back a little too far, and my butt slips off the chair.