Page 13

CHAPTER 13

EDIN

I meant to sign up for three shoots this weekend, but I knew what I’d find. Elijah. I’m not sure if I can handle three breakdowns back-to-back with only hours separating them. It’s exhausting. And it takes me far too long to recover in the days after.

This leaves me a little frustrated because I’d really like to fatten my bank account. Six to nine sessions a month between two or three days is a lot easier and more profitable than four or five over five days when trying to squeeze in moments between other obligations like hockey, school, and making sure my daughter isn’t kicked out of aftercare.

I also get slightly more pay over the weekend because the scenes can be longer. Again, I’m not crunched for time as most people are during the week.

They seem to like me there, so when I signed up for three scenes a couple weeks ago, they were happy to have me. My ass later regretted that decision.

Except, I don’t regret it entirely. It’s painful in an emotional way more than a physical way, though there’s no argument that I’m sore everywhere after. I’m not too proud or dense to admit that the orgasms are… good. I’m only willing to go with good for now.

I’m not at all surprised when I walk into the room I’ll be filming in to find Elijah waiting. He’s leaning against the edge of the couch talking to the two cameramen, one of which is Toby. I don’t usually recall the others’ names, though this one is familiar.

I sigh, shutting the door and crossing my arms over my chest as I give Elijah a dubious look. He’s smirking, the cheeky fucker.

We’re not in a bedroom today. Since we’ve already fucked four times in a bedroom, I imagine they’re going to be changing up our environment for a while to make sure it doesn’t look like a day of different fucking scenes pumped out all at once.

Elijah doesn’t move as the two cameramen back away. I’m not looking at them since this cocky asshole who’s monopolizing my sex scenes has my attention. I’m annoyed. Right? That’s annoyance I feel and not something else. Yup, I’m going to go with annoyed.

“Seriously?” I ask.

His smile climbs a little wider.

“Why are you doing this?”

Elijah doesn’t answer as he holds my stare. Seconds tick by, and I think the room gets a little warmer. Then he stands and crosses to me. The closer he gets, the harder my heart beats in my chest. His hands land on my hips and he pulls me against him.

Not roughly. Not even insistently. It’s slow. Almost an invite. Fuck if I can catch my breath or pull away, though.

Our hips come together and no, I don’t catch my breath.

“Because it’s hot,” he answers, voice low. It sends shivers down my spine. “I love the chemistry between us.”

One of his hands moves up my arm, around to the back of my neck, and into my hair. I’d like to say I’m entirely unaffected —at least I strive to be unaffected by his touch—but there’s no denying that I feel his touch everywhere.

My lips part as I try to think of literally anything to retort. My brain is foggy right now as I stare into his pretty eyes. They’re such a light blue. Like the sky with thin clouds muting the color. Our mouths hover together for a second and I swear, I can feel a charge pass between us.

Then his mouth is on mine, and the kiss is hot. Everything feels different with him. Everything. My head screams to take back control. To force this situation to one where I won’t shatter like a wrecking ball knocked me off my feet after.

The most I can do is keep my arms crossed over my chest. Maintain that separation between us. Which is a damn joke because I’m kissing him like he’s my last breath.

Reluctantly, I unfold my arms and press my hands flat against his chest. I’d love to claim that I push him away, but that’s a lie. I don’t push him away at all. I dig my fingers into his muscles, feeling them flex beneath my touch.

I hate how my dick likes this. It’s not supposed to like anything. The last time it liked something, it fucked up my life, Lydia’s life, and my daughter’s life for five years. That bitch is on a very long time out.

Worse than my dick liking it is that I’m beginning to like it. Especially today. Maybe because I knew when I signed up what was waiting for me. Or rather, who. I had time to get myself mentally prepared.

Being prepared meant I could put in place some mental protection, if you will. I tried to explain to my therapist what was happening without bringing up the whole gay-for-pay thing, which proved rather challenging. I’m not embarrassed by it; I’d do far worse to provide for my daughter. But I don’t want to take a chance that this operation gets shut down. I’m not saying my therapist would do that, but people tend to have very strong opinions about porn.

Which I find hilarious. I would bet my future house that those who scream loudest against porn have the biggest addiction to it. They’re just overcompensating. Or mad that the people making porn are getting laid by living things and not subject to only being loved by their hand.

Okay, enough of my rogue opinions when I’m being kissed to within an inch of my life. My point is, my therapist gave me some tools to try to keep myself from falling apart after. To make this more enjoyable so I’m not struggling with every thrust of his dick in my ass punching a hole through my deliberately locked away emotional jail.

So far, it seems to be going great. I’m fucking horny and don’t feel an emotional ball of chaos ready to spew out of me through cracks I don’t have time to patch.

Elijah’s hand moves from my hip to pull up my shirt. He releases me long enough to strip it from me. Then he drops to his knees as he tosses it aside and licks his tongue up my abs. With a groan, he says, “My friends wanted me to lick your abs the other night.” His eyes meet mine. “I’m going to be gloating when I tell them I did.”

I lick my lips. They feel dry suddenly. For the first time, my hands move into his hair. It’s soft. Smooth like satin. His eyes remain locked with mine as I run my fingers through his silky strands.

He’s on his feet and pushing me to the couch, his mouth crashing into mine roughly. It’s a hot frenzy from then on. Clothes are discarded and tossed aside. His fingers dig into me, leaving red trails behind as his nails carve into my skin. He sucks my dick before turning me over and eating my ass.

The idea grossed me out at first. I initially had it as a hard line I wouldn’t cross in my contract. But I adjusted it later to say I wouldn’t eat anyone’s ass. In one shoot before Elijah commandeered my sex life, one guy did and… maybe I’d have liked it if I hadn’t been locked away in my head.

I’m not sure I like it right now. However, it sends spikes of pleasure through me in a way I can’t entirely explain. It’s not horrible. It’s weird, sure, but it’s not, well… gross. I’m not sure I want to put my tongue in someone’s butthole, but I guess I won’t stop someone who wants to lick mine.

Ugh. Even the thoughts make me shudder. Or… am I shuddering because his tongue is now fucking my hole like a really small, wet cock? Ehhh. I don’t hate it.

Thankfully, we get back to something I know when his fingers replace his tongue as he readies me for his dick. I’m thankful he’s not huge. He’s definitely not small, either, but I don’t feel like he’s going to rip me apart.

Elijah is a little rougher today. I can feel his arousal radiating from him like a furnace. It hits me in waves. When he pulls me down the couch and shoves me onto my back, a breathless laugh is punched from my lungs. His mouth lands on mine as he covers my body with his.

I’m distracted as I try not to let his tongue in my mouth, knowing it was just in my ass, when he begins pushing his cock inside me. He’s impatient today. Horny as hell. I stop arguing with his tongue in favor of trying not to clench my ass to keep him out.

I’m not even sure I want to keep him out. It’s a reflex. That’s an out. Not an in.

I groan as he enters, pushing slowly. Determinedly. Deeply. He’s not as gentle as he usually is in the beginning, which has me pushing against him a little more insistently. Elijah pulls his mouth from mine, allowing me a much-needed breath that I can’t take because his dick is also punching it from my chest.

“You okay?” he asks, licking along my jaw and neck.

“Slow down,” I hiss, unable to contain my grimace.

Elijah does immediately. “Sorry,” he murmurs, sucking on my earlobe. “I’ve been dreaming about your ass. It’s been so long.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” I argue. It was supposed to be an argument with me rolling my eyes, but the effect is lost when I moan in the middle of the sentence.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Let me make you feel good,” he practically purrs.

We remain like this for a while as he fucks me slowly. Opening my body up to him. Giving my muscles time to relax for him. It’s intense and intimate. It feels… far too personal. I can feel all the defenses I’ve newly constructed fraying as tears sting my eyes.

Thankfully, Elijah gets up and I have half a second to catch my breath and shove all the gross things back where they belong. I don’t have time for this to be personal.

He pulls me up, pushing me onto my hands and knees, but over the side of the couch. My chest lands on the ground, cheek pressed against the rug. My hips are against the edge of the couch, my thighs and legs on the cushion. Elijah reaches under me and pulls up my hard dick, too.

This position stretches my back uncomfortably, and I don’t have enough leverage to move, so I can’t see what he’s doing. Not that I think I need to see when I feel his cock line up with my hole again. He eases in, making me gasp as he buries himself deep.

Elijah’s groan fills my head as his dick fills my ass. He pauses when his cockhead reaches my diaphragm. I need something to hold on to. Anything at all. But I have no time to find anything as he begins fucking my ass with purpose. On a mission.

The angle he’s at has him hitting literally everything inside me. It feels far too good. I can’t keep in the sounds he forces out of me with every wild, deep thrust. He goes and goes and goes, his moans and grunts as loud as mine. He takes my ankles, pinning them to the back of the couch as he fucks me hard.

My head spins wildly as an orgasm, the likes of which I’ve never felt before, overcomes me and I practically scream as it shakes my entire body like an earthquake. Or I would be screaming except I haven’t been able to take a proper breath since he bent me in this position.

Elijah pulls me up, bringing my limp body back onto the couch. I’m on my hands and knees with my face in the corner of the cushion while he continues to fuck me. It’s too much. My eyes squeeze shut as he hits all the too-sensitive spots inside me, making my voice all high-pitched and whiney as I grunt.

I know when he finishes because his entire body comes down on top of me. I can feel his dick throb inside me, pulsing with every squirt of cum.

Then it stops. One second, I’m burning up and the next I’m shivering in the cold room. I can’t breathe, but that might be because I have my face smashed within the crack where the back cushion meets the bottom cushion.

Seconds pass. A minute. I expect Elijah to get up and pull away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gathers me in his arms and pulls me against him, laying us on the couch so I’m tucked between him and its back. His legs curl under mine, his arms wrapping me tightly around my middle, his lips press gently to the back of my neck.

At first, I’m confused because his dick is still lodged inside me. It makes my face scrunch at the weird sensation. Then I realize he’s anticipating me falling apart and this time, he’s not giving me the time it takes to totally crumble.

It’s enough that I catch my breath.

Maybe it’s because he’s holding me right away. Maybe my new lines of defense worked. Or maybe it’s something scarier like… I don’t hate this. But I’m not unraveling this time. My heart is still racing in a way that has nothing to do with epically twisty sex positions. But I’m not struggling to keep my tears in this time.

“This going to be a thing now?” I ask. “You’re not going to let me go back to my quiet life of fucking guys whose names I don’t know and don’t remember what’s happening, are you?”

“No,” Elijah answers, his voice as quiet as mine is.

I really hope we’re alone.

“Unless you tell them you don’t want to partner with me anymore.”

There’s a loud voice in my head that says if I want to protect myself, then I need to. I need to. Yet, I find myself shaking my head. I’m not going to do that.

“Good,” Elijah answers. His lips brush my skin as he layers soft kisses on me.

“You going to take your dick out of me?” I ask.

I feel his lips curl and he shakes his head. “Not until I have to.”

I grimace and close my eyes. My mind is filled with a lot of thoughts concerning this moment, which might also help keep away the spooked feeling that’s creeping up. That feeling I have every time once sex with him is over. A tremor shivers through my body every minute or so. My breaths won’t slow down. My heart thunders loudly, and my palms feel sweaty even though I’m a little cold.

Elijah pulls away and I nearly grab his arm. He reaches between us as he takes his dick out of me. For some reason, the loss of it makes me choke on gross emotions I don’t understand. I can feel his hand between us as he discards the condom.

“Turn around,” he instructs.

I shake my head. “Why?”

“Just do it. Turn around.”

Without meeting his eyes, I roll over. Elijah pulls me to him, bringing my body flush to his where he once again wraps me in his body. I can feel him everywhere. He tucks my face under his chin as he holds me.

His heartbeat is steady, smooth. A gentle rhythm that encourages me to follow it. I close my eyes and bring my arms around him, settling into his embrace. He holds me a little tighter.

“I hate this,” I mutter.

Elijah nods. I mean to tell him I hate how I keep doing this. The way I keep needing to be held like a fucking child who doesn’t know exactly why they’re upset. Like I know, but I don’t know.

I don’t hate that he’s holding me. That’s not the part I hate at all. I need it. I want it. And I’m going to take to my grave the fact I want it to be him who holds me when I feel like this.