Page 19
CHAPTER 19
EDIN
Tuesday is much the same as Monday except I get the added benefits of orgasms thrown in, prompted every time I rub my cock against Elijah. He’s used his hand, his mouth, his dick against mine, and slicked between his legs as he emulated us fucking to get me off.
If I’m being honest, orgasms have never felt this good. Ever .
To be fair, I don’t have a whole lot to compare them to, discounting my previous experience at Confessions. Yes, I’ve fucked a bunch of guys there, but… does it count if I’m barely present and I don’t remember? I can’t even remember feeling those orgasms. They happened. I dumped used condoms into the bin as proof.
Before that, I’m not sure anyone can truly say that their first few times having sex were mind-blowing. Then Lydia announced she was pregnant, and my world turned to shit. Any orgasm I had after that was unsatisfactory at best. They got the job done, but I definitely didn’t feel good.
Elijah obviously knows what he’s doing. And there’s no mistaking that I’m definitely into it.
Wednesday, I’m beginning to feel somewhat human. However, I don’t go to class again until Thursday. Elijah doesn’t leave me the entire time. When I express concern about his classes and cheer, he just waves me off, telling me he already talked to Joelle and sent messages to his professors, and they’ve all been understanding.
I manage to sit in a single class for half an hour before my hip makes me far too uncomfortable and I end up excusing myself. The professor gives me a disapproving look on my way out so I stop, making sure he has a full view of my bruised face, and lift my shirt to expose the line of ugly bruising down my torso. I go so far as to shove the side of my pants down so he can see the truly nasty one over my hip.
His eyes go wide.
“Do you need a doctor’s note or is seeing it proof enough that I fucking hurt?” I ask. If I hadn’t put in the explicative, I probably wouldn’t have gotten the sour look from him because I managed to keep my tone neutral.
“I’ll make up the work,” I add, letting my shirt and pants slide back into place and slowly make my way out the door. Sitting does not make my hip happy.
My heart jumps when I see Elijah right outside the door. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, looking at his phone. His eyes dart up as the door opens, and he sees me.
I wait until the door closes before asking, “What’re you doing here?”
He gives me an amused smirk as he gets to his feet and takes my bag from my shoulder. I don’t argue. “You don’t do well sitting for long periods,” he says, shrugging. “I stayed because I didn’t think you could sit in the uncomfortable chairs for ninety minutes and I didn’t want you to walk home on your own.”
It’s hard not to let him see how his thoughtfulness makes me feel. Especially when that feeling is overwhelmed.
“We’re going to the arena so you can talk to the doctor again. Your ribs seem to be doing okay, but your hip is still really bothering you,” Elijah continues.
“What makes you think the doc’s there?”
“I called,” he says, giving me a challenging look. Waiting for me to argue.
Part of me wants to argue, but he’s not wrong. My ribs do feel better. My hip does not . I don’t agree, but I also don’t protest.
Walking doesn’t start out being painful. Standing upright is a relief from sitting. That is until my hip begins pulsing with pain. I compensate by limping and putting most of my weight on my opposite side, but the pain makes my muscles tense, which only aggravates literally every other injury I have.
By the time we reach the arena, I’m gritting my teeth in frustration.
The doc is waiting for me. Elijah waits outside as I get another x-ray, then I’m sitting beside him. Where sitting had once been the biggest discomfort, it’s now a relief from walking. Did it hurt this bad over the last couple days when we walked to get Mo? I feel like I’d remember if it had.
Does that mean I’ve injured it further? All those orgasms, huh?
“Not broken,” Doc confirms when he steps out of the room. “But because you’re in so much pain, I’ve scheduled an MRI for tomorrow morning at the campus health center.”
“They have an MRI machine?” I ask. I didn’t realize Longwood U had a big enough health program to be able to afford an MRI machine.
Doc nods. Beside me, Elijah’s nodding too.
“Yep. It’s new in the last few years, but as we strive to improve our health sciences programs, we’re making sure our students have the tools and means necessary to excel.”
“Thanks,” I say and get to my feet.
“Nine tomorrow morning,” Doc tells me. “Mo will be off to school by then, right?”
I smile, nodding. It’s such a little thing, but that he took into account that I need to take care of my daughter first means a lot to me. “Yes. Thank you.”
Doc nods. “Take it easy for the rest of the day.” He gives Elijah a pointed look before retreating into his office.
“Did he just assign you to make sure I do as he instructed?”
Elijah shrugs as he picks up my bag and slings it over his shoulder. He takes my hand, securing our fingers together, and leads me out. I watch our joined hands with the pretense of I’m looking at where I’m stepping.
I don’t think I’ve ever held anyone’s hand except my daughter’s. For one stupid second, I close my eyes. One of the things my therapist suggested was that through our conversation, part of my depression came from the loss of the teenage experiences I’d been looking forward to, even if not on a conscious level. I could look around me and see everyone living the moments I’d never have, and it contributed deeply to my depression.
Looking at our linked hands, I think this is the first moment that I truly believe her. It’s just a little thing. A rather innocent gesture. For most people, I would wager a guess it doesn’t mean nearly as much as it suddenly does to me. It’s one of those things people take for granted.
I hate the way it makes my emotions spin around like a damn tornado, leaving me feeling unbalanced as I try to walk and not face-plant on the sidewalk.
Elijah squeezes my hand, and I force my attention up so I’m looking straight ahead. I can only imagine what he’d see in my eyes if I allowed him to look right now.
“You want to stop anywhere?” Elijah asks.
I shake my head. “No. Unless you need to.”
“That depends,” he says, and I brave a glance his way. He’s looking at me, as I knew he would be. “I’m going to attempt to say this so you don’t feel pressured or overwhelmed, but if you want me to continue to stay with you—and I want to so don’t read this the wrong way—but if you want me to, I should stop in my room and grab some clean clothes. Yours fit me remarkably well, but going commando isn’t my jam.”
My eyes drop to his crotch, and I realize he’s swinging as he walks. I can’t help myself, and laugh. Without giving myself time to overthink what he’s saying, I nod. “Let’s stop at your room.”
I can come up with a lot of reasons I want him to stay: I need help with Mo right now. I need help keeping my balance. I need orgasmic relief. None of those are the truth, but I’m not willing to go deeper right now.
I’ve never been inside the main level of DIK beyond the shrine of cocks. In fact, we don’t even go in the same door. Elijah leads me to the side of the building and uses a code on the buttons to let us in. The door leads to a hall.
This house is probably as old as ours is. The stairs are hidden behind a door like servant stairs were built way back in the day. We take them to the third floor and into his bedroom.
It’s not as I would expect it to be. I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting exactly, but it looks rather… clean. There’s not a lot of clutter. Minimal furniture. And there’s barely anything here to say he’s a cheerleader. When you hear cheerleader, you immediately think that they’re going to have a room filled with pink feather boas, pom-poms, and glitter.
Elijah’s room is gray, blue, and white. Masculine, but in a soft way, though I’m not sure what I even mean by that. Clean. Almost devoid of personality.
He moves around me, pulling a bag from under his bed and dumping clothes into it. By the time I turn to him, he has both of our bags over his shoulder and is heading toward me. I don’t know why, but when he reaches me, I walk into him and press my mouth to his.
Elijah’s arm immediately wraps around my back, pulling me to his chest. He’s gentle. Always so fucking mindful of where I hurt, it takes my breath away. His hand moves up my back, following my spine, and tangles in my hair.
“You okay?” he asks when I pull my mouth from his, but only by centimeters.
“Yeah. Can we go now?”
He nods. His lips brush mine again, feather-light, and then he drops his hand into mine. “Let’s go.”
The walk from DIK to OXL is ten minutes. With every step I take, my blood burns hotter. I’m not sure what the change is, but I need to get naked with him. To feel his skin against mine. I need to be the only thing he thinks about right now.
I lock my bedroom door once we’re inside and turn to him. Elijah’s already set our bags down. Pulling my shirt over my head, I wait for him to do the same. Then we’re stripping.
I’m not surprised to find he’s hard. I swear, this man is always hard for me. Knowing that sends a thrill through me as I shove him toward my bed. He complies, falling onto his back and shimmying up the bed while I climb on after him.
I’ve never been on top of him except that first time, and I don’t think I can really count it. I was freaking out the entire shoot. Besides, it was for the camera. This isn’t. This is for me. Not money. Not to get off. This is because I want it.
His hands land on my legs as I straddle his hips, leaning over to rub our cocks together and capture his mouth again. I’m hyper-aware of his hands moving up my thighs and around to my ass. His fingers dig into me, making me groan as I bear down harder.
The idea of telling him what I want, what I have in mind, makes my skin burn. Sex isn’t shameful and I don’t feel like that’s my problem, but there’s something about voicing my desires and needs out loud that makes me feel… vulnerable. Open to rejection.
“I want to ride you,” I whisper.
Elijah groans. His grip on my ass strengthens as he grinds his hips into mine. “Then ride me, Edin.”
Taking a breath, I reach for my nightstand drawer and dig around until I find the lube. But as I’m bringing it back, I pause. Disappointment is already moving through me like a cold shower. “I don’t have any condoms.”
“Really?” he asks, clearly surprised.
“I told you. School, hockey, Mo. That’s it.”
His lips move along my jaw. “I have condoms in my bag.”
Picking my head up, I look at him. “You knew I’d want to ride you?”
Elijah grins. “No. That bag always has condoms.”
I’m surprised by the grip of jealousy that overcomes me. My eyes narrow.
He chuckles, tangling his fingers in my hair and bringing my mouth down to his. He kisses me long and deep for a minute before speaking. “That’s my travel bag. It goes to comps and camp and shit. You never know when you’re going to hook up.”
“Uh-huh.”
Still, with his super satisfied grin, he adds, “I haven’t been with anyone but you since the first time we were together, Edin. I have zero interest in anyone but you. I love your jealousy, but it’s unnecessary right now.”
I force a breath out and nod.
“Want me to get a condom?” he asks.
I nod again.
Elijah leans up and kisses me, following me up as I sit back. Against my mouth, he says, “I’m yours in whatever way you want me. You have nothing to worry about. Okay?”
This might be a bad idea. Already everything inside me feels… tipsy. Like I’m heading for the edge of a blade and forced to balance with one bad hip. But I nod resolutely.
He taps my leg, and I lean to my right to let him up from under me. My eyes remain locked on him as he unzips a side pocket and pulls out a short chain of condoms. I refuse to let the monstrous jealousy surge again as I stare at him.
Turning back to me, he has a longer chain in his mouth while he’s tearing open one and rolling it on his cock. By the time he’s in front of me, dropping the rest of the condoms into the drawer I left open in my nightstand, I’m panting like I just ran a marathon. Salivating to have his dick inside me again.
Elijah returns to the bed, and I immediately climb on top of him. Bottle of lube in my hands, I coat his wrapped dick and shift myself until I can put him where I want him.
“Woah..” Elijah stops me, grabbing my hand and pulling me down toward him. His lips touch mine. “There’s no hurry, Edin. At the very least, we need some lube in you, too.” He laughs when I glare at him.
“Just let me do it my way,” I say, pushing myself up again.
His lips are pressed together, but he doesn’t stop me this time as I line up his dick. I’m not going to say he’s right, but he’s definitely right. It immediately aches when I get his cockhead in my hole. As soon as he penetrates my body, my breath is punched from my lungs.
Taking a deep breath, I bear down a little more. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on what I’m doing. What my goal is. What I want to feel.
As much as my body burns right now, I’m not mad about this. I want to feel him. I want to feel every fucking inch of this man.
Elijah pulls me up, releasing his cock from my body. I watch as he adds more lube to his dick and then lets me go. This time, he holds his dick for me to get on.
I sink down. Down, down, down. How far does he normally sit inside me? With my hands planted on his sexy stomach, I slowly begin riding him. I spread my legs further apart, allowing gravity to pull me down as far as I can get.
A groan fills the air as I let my head hang. “Feels good,” I murmur.
His hands continue to move up and down my legs, almost as if he’s petting me. I love his touch. I know if I look up, he’ll be watching me, too. It’s like I can feel his stare. Knowing he only sees me. I’m the only thing he’s thinking about.
I’m the only one he wants.
Knowing that makes me move on him. Maybe it’s knowing that which makes it feel so fucking good. Even that first time together, sex felt good with him. Better than I wanted it to. Every time after that has felt better and better.
This is going to be the pinnacle of good sex. I can already feel the way it moves through my body, slowly touching every surface as I ride him. My moans get louder. My movements become more erratic. When I get overwhelmed this time, it’s because it feels too good. I can’t keep going because it’s too good.
Falling forward, Elijah wraps his arms around me, holding me to his chest. As he has so many times before.
“Hang on, Edin,” he murmurs.
I grip him tightly as he takes over. Not changing our position at all, but fucking up into me with such precision and force that I’m practically crying as he brings me to orgasm. I feel it through my entire body, as if every single limb and nerve ending and fiber of my being orgasms, too.
It feels like I float around for a while. Gliding through the clouds as rivulets of pleasure continue to pulse through me.
The strangest feeling to date is the moment when it actually feels like my brain turns on and I’m tuned back into reality. In my bed. Still breathing heavy as I lay sprawled across Elijah’s body. He’s moving inside me slowly, but not a lot. Maybe an inch or so.
So, so slowly. Almost not moving, but still moving.
It’s maybe the most intimate moment of my life. I burn it into my memory because I never want to forget this feeling.