Page 25 of Worth the Try (Atlanta Granite #1)

Elodie

H IS EYES WIDEN to an almost comical size at my words, then his eyebrows slam down. “Elle?—”

I cover his mouth with my hand. “Ansel.”

He relents, his body relaxing beneath me. God, his body . But I’ll get to it. I remind myself to be brave, then say, “I’ve been working very hard on things. On my business.”

He nods against my palm.

“On learning to stop being so nice.”

A brow rises, hard to see but discernible, nonetheless.

I giggle. “Believe it or not, I’ve really been improving.”

“Bullshit,” he mutters, his lips tickling my palm.

I swivel my hips on him, and he groans. “ And I have been working on being more assertive. This is me being assertive.” I take a deep breath, still addled from the insane orgasm he just delivered, and hope my voice doesn’t shake when I say the next part.

“Right now, what I want—what I need —is to give you a blowjob.”

His eyes twinkle, his lips curving into a smile behind my hand before I pull it away for him to speak. “I don’t think I’ve heard it called a blowjob since I was in high school.”

Heat flames my cheeks. “What else would you call it, then?”

He reaches a hand up to caress my face, his grin going positively naughty. “Promise me you’ll say the words once I tell you.”

I agree with a hesitant jerk of my chin. “Okay.”

His gaze drops to my clasped hands. “So innocent,” he murmurs, then focuses back on me, his eyes hooded with lust. “The words you’re looking for, my sweet Elodie, are these: You want to suck my cock.”

As my eyes widen, he repeats himself. “Suck. My. Cock.”

My core heats at the dirty words, wetness coating between my legs.

“Say it, Elodie,” he demands softly. “Tell me you want to suck my cock.”

I swivel against him again, needing relief, before murmuring, “I want to suck your cock.”

“No whispers, sweetheart.” His hands dig into my hips. “Say it out loud.”

“I want to suck your cock,” I repeat.

His eyes roll back in his head as he groans. “Perfect, Elodie. Fuck me, you are so perfect. Say it again.”

Emboldened, I rise onto my knees and bend over, bracketing his head with my hands. I lean down so close our lips almost touch, then let my lips graze the side of his mouth and cheek before whispering in his ear, “I’m going to suck your cock now, Ansel.”

He groans. “Good girl. Yes, please,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Pleased with myself, I tour down his body, taking just as much time on him as he did with me.

I explore the hard planes of his chest, the light covering of hair that starts out broad and narrows to guide me down to the place I most want to be.

His fingers stroke up and down my arms, halting as I find those incredible divots on the front of his hips, honed and sculpted by years of hard work and training.

I lick them, delighting in the shiver he can’t hold back, listening to the deep rumble of his voice as he groans. But I can’t see anything, and I’m desperate to. I want to look at this beautiful body at my mercy. I rise up and crawl to the top of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Angling over him, my breasts dangling over his prone form, I find the bedside lamp and click it on. Its light is dimmer than most, but it’s more than enough for me to understand the way he looks at me: hungry.

He captures me by the waist, sucking on my breast and tracing the curves of my body. And it feels good, so good, but I won’t be stopped.

His skin practically glows in the ambience, tan and sculpted. Even lying down, his muscles are defined, twitching and flattening as he moves. When I meet his eyes, his expression is downright tortured, and I laugh.

“I told you it’s my turn,” I remind him. “Relax and enjoy it.”

With that, I slide back down, purposefully ignoring his impressive cock in favor of finally—dear God, finally —getting my mouth on his thighs. His thick, strong, gorgeous thighs. I press my lips to the left one, skimming my teeth over it as he hisses an inhale.

“Elle, what are you?—”

Then I bite.

“Fuck,” he grunts, nearly coming off the bed in surprise.

I drag a hand up his stomach, moaning at the feel of muscles bunching beneath my palm. “Be still.” I don’t recognize my voice, raw and raspy.

He relaxes, and I return to my own little feast. If I could wrap myself up in these thighs, I would.

That’s how much I love them. I savor them, kissing and nipping at one, then the other, while Ansel’s hands clench and unclench beside me.

When he’s good and bothered, I readjust myself between his legs, pulling my hair to one side and leaning down to where his penis lies.

Cock, I remind myself with a smirk.

I look up to meet his eyes, and they blaze with desire, the brown irises disappearing into the blown darkness of his pupils. “You ready for me to suck your cock, Ansel?”

His breath hitches as he nods, and it occurs to me that even though I’m the more inexperienced of us, he’s the nervous one. “Yes,” he manages.

I quirk a smile. “Yes, what?”

He huffs a laugh, and it sends butterflies through me. “Yes, please, Elodie. Please take that gorgeous mouth and put it around my cock.”

So I do. Without preamble, without so much as an opening lick, I simply take him into my mouth like a lollipop, pulling him as deep as I can.

The sound he makes—feral, undone, grateful—cracks me wide open.

Gentle hands wrap my hair to the side as he breathes out a curse, his eyes locked onto my eyes, my mouth. “Elodie.”

I hum, licking him up and down, paying attention to every noise he makes.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve done this, and it’s already a million times better than ever before.

It’s not that I’ve turned into some blowjob goddess—or cock-sucking champion, perhaps?

—but it’s the first time I’ve wanted to do it.

Ansel murmurs words of praise above me, and right when I’m hitting my stride, he pulls me up to him, crushing me down on top of him and flipping us in one smooth motion. Way better than my own moves, but to be fair, he is a lot bigger than me.

“Tell me I can be inside you,” he says, his eyes searching mine. “Tell me you want all of this.”

Is he kidding? “I want all of this. All of you.” I pause. “I want your cock inside me.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathes, a relieved smile on his face.

I giggle. “Did you think I’d say no?”

“I didn’t want to assume,” he admits. “Don’t move.” He leans over to the bedside table and pulls out a condom, then gives me a bashful look. “These are—um.” He looks away, seeming to search for the words. “I’ve never done this. Here, I mean. No one’s been here. It’s, ah, it’s been a long time.”

“Ansel.” My voice is soft as I beckon him. “It doesn’t matter.” I’ve almost got whiplash, moving between the dominating man who demands I orgasm one moment and the sweet guy who confesses it’s been a long time since he’s had sex the next.

But my words must settle things, because he opens the foil and rolls the condom on.

He resettles between my legs, the warmth of him seeping into me.

And when his eyes hold mine as one strong hand grips the back of my thigh, guiding it up so my foot is on the mattress and opening me wide for him, I hold my breath.

“You’re so beautiful, Elodie,” he says, notching himself against me.

I exhale.

On my next inhale, shaky and overcome, he pushes in.

We moan together, his low and guttural, mine nearly matching it, and my body reacts instantly, clenching him tight.

“Fuck, Elle, baby ,” he chokes.

“I—” It’s all I can say as he withdraws and thrusts again, getting deeper.

“You can take it,” he whispers, his voice a caress against my ear. “Take me deep, Elodie. Let me in. Give me heaven.”

His words turn me molten, my core softening and opening.

“There’s my good girl,” he says, pulling out and pausing. His eyes search mine. “Are you ready for me, love?”

My answer is to arch up and nip at his bottom lip. Grabbing onto the sliver of bravery still inside me, I hold his gaze. “Fuck me, Ansel.”

He growls and slams home, both of us crying out as he bottoms out. I’m so full, fuller than I’ve ever been. My eyes roll back in my head as he does it again and again.

“So good,” I breathe, dimly remembering that I need to be quiet. “You feel so good. My God, Ansel. My God.”

My words unleash him even more, as he loses himself inside me. His eyes are wild, dark with lust and wonder and pleasure. He hikes my leg up higher, the angle allowing him to go even deeper, hitting a part of me that I didn’t know was possible.

“Fuck me, Elodie,” he grunts. “You are heaven. So hot. So fucking tight against my cock. Tell me you like it.”

My throat tightens.

He slams into me again, and I moan in ecstasy. “Tell me.”

“God damn , I like it, Ansel. I love your cock. Love the way you make me feel. Love?—”

He cuts me off with a bruising kiss and practically bends me in half. It’s harsh, brutal…and absolutely exactly what I asked for. There’s nothing sweet or gentle about him anymore. He’s fucking me, hard and deep, his hips swirling up and back, and I start to lose my ever-loving mind.

“Anssssel,” I moan. “Fuck, I’m—I’m—” I break off with another moan against his mouth.

“Be quiet, Elle,” he warns.

But it’s impossible, because even as the words leave his mouth, he increases the pace, slamming into me so hard that the headboard hits the wall.

He moves us down just enough to keep it from happening again, then slams home once more.

Faster and faster he pistons into me, and when my orgasm begins to swirl into existence, my eyelids flutter shut.

“No,” he commands, his words soft but urgent. “No. Together. Look at me.”

And as I force my eyes open, his own are right there, studying me even as his face contorts with his own impending climax. I grip his sweat-slicked back, my nails scraping down the muscles as I shatter with a low groan.

“Fuck,” he hisses, slamming one final time into me and stilling as he comes. He’s glorious. Every piece of him flits across his face before he leans his forehead to mine, breathing hard.

We stay there, gripping each other tightly, breathing shared air as we settle back into our bodies. After a few moments, he lets go of my leg and guides it lower, and I wrap my arms tight around him, pulling his weight to rest on top of me.

“I’m too heavy,” he protests, trying to rise almost immediately.

“No,” I say, tightening my grip. “Stay here. Stay inside me. I want to feel you.”

Kissing me tenderly, he relents, groaning as I reach to scratch my fingers through his hair.

We remain like that for a long while, kissing, touching, caressing.

Staring at each other. Memorizing everything.

Finally, he kisses my forehead, then rolls out of the bed to pad to the en-suite bathroom and dispose of the condom.

He’s back instantly, pulling the covers around us before gathering me into his arms, nuzzling at my neck and ear, his hands roaming my body in long strokes.

“Careful,” I murmur, “or I’ll want to do that all over again.”

He releases a laugh. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”

“I can’t stay,” I say, reality slithering back into me. Remembering that a precious little girl is just down the hall.

“Maybe not,” he admits, “but that doesn’t mean you have to leave yet.”

I rise onto my elbow and look at him. “No?”

“No.” He smiles. Then he turns us and lowers his head to my body once more.