I call out his name, gripping his head tightly between my thighs as I explode, bucking against him as he drives his fingers inside me, curling them forward to rub that sensitive spot inside.
I can feel another orgasm mounting and call to the heavens this time, exploding once more. It has been too long since I’ve had this. Too, too long.
“Wow,” he says as he wipes at his mouth then climbs back on top of me. “I love how responsive you are.”
I bite my lip. “You’re good at the touching and the licking,” I say, feeling flushed.
He chuckles, kissing me so deeply I can taste my own sweetness in his mouth. “I’m going to fuck you now.” Reaching over to his bedside drawer, he pulls out a condom, sitting back as he applies it over his long thick shaft, while I watch unabashedly. He creeps over me and holds his weight, his arms either side of me as he nudges his tip at my entrance, locking my eyes with his, studying me.
“I’m waiting for the fucking part.” I smile, lifting my hips to nudge him closer. He drives himself inside me with one swift movement. We gasp together at the erotic intensity of being connected so deeply, and he moves himself in and out of me in time with my own hips rocking.
Each time he drives into me, I moan from the pleasure of it. “Do you think I can get you to come again?” he pants in my ear.
“Keep going like this and you will,” I gasp.
His steady rhythm is pushing and pulling at my insides, building my pleasure to the verge of exploding once more. I clench reflexively.
“I don’t think I can hold on if you keep doing that.”
“Just hold on. Hold on,” I cry, clenching tighter, my orgasm bursting through me for a third time, my starved body greedy for more. And more.
This is exactly what I needed.
He breathes out slowly as he shudders, his cock pulsing inside me as we collapse together, gasping for breath, our limbs all tangled up with each other.
“I was right,” I remark, trailing my fingers up his back. “You are amazing.”
He lifts his head and smiles brightly at me. “No, you are.” He kisses me again slowly this time, beginning to move inside me once more. I can feel his erection harden inside of me, and I gasp as he slowly grinds his hips into mine.
I wrap my legs around his middle and pull him tightly against me. He lifts me off the bed so I’m sitting on him, rocking with him as I look into his eyes and can see his passion for me, his wanting of me. This time I don’t climax, but it is beautiful, sweet and slow.
He gets up and removes his condom, wrapping it in a tissue and dropping it in the bin in the adjoining bathroom. I can’t keep my eyes off his body and watch him shamelessly as he moves back towards the bed. Putting his arm around my waist, he drags me against him, wrapping himself around me, nuzzling my neck.
“Sleep, beautiful,” he mutters against my skin. I wriggle to get comfortable, feeling safe in this cocoon his body has created around me. I close my eyes, and it doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out, and I know he’s sleeping.
As the moments pass, I can’t seem to drift off. I’m exhausted and sated, but this tiny voice in my head keeps asking, why? Why did David break his promise? Why did he go with Beth and leave me there? Where is he now? I’m tempted to sneak out of bed to check my phone, but even I know that would be a shitty thing to do. Instead, I close my eyes again and force my breathing to slow down. Why does he have to keep hurting me? I shift slightly and wipe a wayward tear as it escapes my eye. Why aren’t I ever enough?
Eighteen
I’m pulled from my sleep by the sound of my phone ringing. Grabbing my dress from the floor, I race for it, thinking it’s David finally calling me back. But, the caller ID reveals it to be my mother. “Shit,” I say to myself, realising I forgot to call her last night to tell her I wasn’t going home.
I clear the sleepiness from my throat and answer quietly, trying not to disturb Elliot.
“Are you out training already?” my mother asks immediately.
Wriggling into my dress, I’m relieved she hasn’t realised I didn’t come home, and I’m about to go along with it, but I’ve had enough of the tiny lies.
“Uh, hi Mum. No, I’m not training.” Getting my dress into place, I move into the lounge room to talk.
“Well, where are you? It’s six o’clock in the morning and your car’s not here.” She gasps as she realises what’s going on. “You didn’t even come home last night, did you?”
“No, Mum, I’m um… with Elliot,” I admit, as I sit down on the brown leather L shaped couch and tuck my feet under my body.
Suddenly, her whole demeanour changes. I can even hear the smile in her voice. “Oh, my goodness! Was it wonderful? Katey showed me his photo yesterday, and he is so attractive,” she gushes.
“Mum!”
“What?”
“I’m not telling you that stuff.” I speak quietly into the phone, not wanting Elliot to overhear.
“Sorry, it’s just a bit exciting isn’t it?”
“I suppose so.”
“I’ll talk to you when you get home then. You are coming home aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure yet. I'll call you later to let you know.”
“All right, just make sure you tell me this time OK? I got a shock this morning when I woke up and you weren’t here.”
“I’m sorry for worrying you, Mum.”
“That’s OK sweetheart, have a good time.”
We disconnect, and I smile at my phone thinking about my mum and her love of romance. Then I open my contacts list and try David again. He still hasn’t called back and now it’s morning, I’m worried about him.
No answer.
Sighing, I get up and walk into the small kitchen to grab a glass of water, feeling surprised at how tidy it is considering Elliot lives on his own. There isn’t even a cup in the sink.
Elliot’s hands snake around my waist as I stand facing the sink, drinking my water. He kisses my neck and asks, “Everything OK?”
Setting down my glass, I turn towards him, kissing him back softly. He's put on a pair of cotton pyjama pants and has left his glorious chest bare. I run my hand over the firmness of his pecs.
“Mmmm, yeah, everything’s fine. I just forgot to tell my parents I wouldn’t be home last night. My mum was worried.”
“What about your dad?”
“He’s probably still asleep at this time.”
Elliot reaches up to my face and smooths my hair back behind my ears, gently caressing my skin with his thumbs. I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of him, enjoying that I’m finally alone with him, not having to worry if anyone can see us.
He reaches down and opens the cupboard under the sink and takes a new Chux dishcloth out of the packet. I watch him curiously as he wets it and rubs some hand soap into it from the dispenser he has on the windowsill.
He then comes back over to me and ever so gently wipes it over my face. My eyes widen as I realise what I must look like having slept in my makeup from last night.
“Oh god, I must look a fright,” I exclaim, trying to take the cloth from him.
He moves it out of my reach. “No, you look beautiful,” he says, kissing me quickly on the mouth. “You just don’t need to wear this stuff.”
Ever so gently, he continues to clean off my makeup in slow deliberate strokes. Obligingly, I close my eyes as he glides the cloth gently over my skin.
“Keep them closed.” His voice is just above a whisper. I hear him rinse the cloth to wash the soap out before he uses it to wipe over my eyes again. “Open.” I lift my lids, blinking rapidly until they feel normal. I watch his face as he studies mine and gently wipes the mascara from under my eyes. There’s something sensual about what he’s doing to me.
I know in this moment that the slow part of our relationship is over. I need this man to take me forward. I’m willing to let go of the fear from my past relationships, and my hope for the one relationship I’ve yearned for over the years
that will never happen. I’m ready to move forward and focus my affection on this man who is so strong, yet so gentle at the same time. I’m willing to put my hope in him.
“There,” he says when he’s done. “Perfect.” He brushes his knuckles along my cheek, and I catch his hand with mine, pressing a kiss to his palm.
He pulls me to him and kisses me, our tongues moving together as we moan into each other’s mouths, pressing our bodies into each other.
His hands roam down my back and towards my buttocks where he grabs me and hoists me up onto the kitchen bench. Smiling into our kiss, he slides my dress up above my still naked hips. I part my legs further as he releases his erection, circling himself at my entrance and moaning, because I’m already tremendously wet.
When he pushes inside me, I think fleetingly of a condom, although in this moment, I don’t care. I want to feel him inside me; just him and nothing else between us. I want to feel connected to him in the most intense way. I want him to make me forget…
I gasp as his silken shaft slides deep inside of me, thrusting back and forth, igniting my body with a fire that feels ready to consume my senses.
I wrap my legs around him tightly, pulling him into me as he climaxes first, pulsing his juices deep inside of me. He continues to move until he’s sure I’ve climaxed too. It’s obvious when I do, because my legs grip his waist like a vice, and I lift myself off the benchtop, calling out his name.
He sets me back down and leaves us connected, looking at me suddenly stricken. “I…I’m sorry. That's the first time I have ever done that without protection before… I don’t know what came over me. I should have checked it was OK first.”
I’m surprised by his reaction. “You’ve never had sex without a condom?”
“Never,” he answers seriously.
“Well, I guess that means you’ve got the all clear then? Health wise, I mean,” I ask carefully, not really wanting to ask the difficult question but knowing how important it was for both of us to be STD free.
“Yes, I’m clear. What about you?”
“I, uh, got tested in the hospital. Just to be sure, so yeah, I’m all clear. And um…I get Depo injections every six months. So I can’t get pregnant,” I assure him, feeling awkward but glad the air is clear.
“Oh, good.” He breathes out his relief, kissing me again. “I don’t know what it is about you. I just keep doing things that aren’t normal for me.”
He withdraws, and I feel the warm gush of his semen run out of me. He looks at it then looks at me like he doesn’t know what to do.
This really is the first time he’s had sex without a condom.
I tell him to rinse the cloth again to clean us up. He insists on doing it for both of us, and when he finishes, he lifts me from the bench and sets me on the floor, before he drops the Chux into the garbage bin.
“Breakfast?” he asks me.
I nod my agreement, and he pulls out a chair for me at the small wooden table in the kitchen's corner that only seats two. I sit down, watching him move around, preparing toast and eggs with orange juice and coffee.
When my phone beeps with a message, I jump up and retrieve it from the coffee table where I left it after speaking to my mother.
The message is from David. Went by ur house but ur mum said u were out. Sorry about last night. I’m an idiot. forgot to charge my phone and couldn’t find u. Have been worried. Connor said u went home.
I’m angry and grateful to David because if he hadn’t disappeared, I wouldn’t have just had a night full of mind-blowing sex.
I take a breath and type back. Don’t worry about it, just glad ur safe. Was worried about u too
He messages straight back. Where r u? Can we talk?
Typing again, I answer: With Elliot. Talk tomorrow?
I sit there looking at my phone waiting for the dots to dance again. I’m disappointed when it shifts to read and nothing else happens. Elliot moves into my periphery as he places our breakfast dishes on the table.
“Everything OK?” he asks for the second time this morning.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just David this time. Saying sorry for ditching me last night.” I move back over to the table and sit down with Elliot. “This looks great,” I tell him, starting to dig in.
“I think I’ll have to thank David for ditching you last night. I would’ve had to settle for dreaming about you instead of getting to spend time with the real thing.”
I blush a little. “You wouldn’t have had to wait long. I was supposed to come to dinner tonight remember.”
“I remember,” he says. “Do you still want to do that? Or do you have to get home?”
“I think I would still like to do that, if that’s all right with you. Not sick of me yet?”
He leans over and kisses me. “Um, let me think: a beautiful woman who rocks my world and can talk sports with me? Hmmm, no. I can’t see myself getting sick of you anytime soon.” He finishes his eggs and takes his plate to the sink, leaning against it as he speaks to me. “I need to shop for dinner tonight, though. You want to come along?”
“Sure. You wouldn’t happen to have some women’s clothes lying around would you? I don’t really want to go out looking like I just stepped out of a club.”
“I’ll give you a shirt to wear over your dress if you like. Will that do?”
“That’ll be fine, thanks.” I smile, downing the last of my coffee. I stand up with my dishes, and he moves towards me to take them, placing them in the sink.
He’s a good ten centimetres taller than me in bare feet, and he leans down to kiss me again. “But first, will you shower with me?”
I raise my eyebrows at him, and my eyes drift to his chest. “You mean, I get to rub soap all over your body?” I ask, tracing my fingers along the grooves between his muscles.
“I was thinking the same thing about you,” he growls, before he swoops me up and carries me laughing to the shower.
Nineteen
We don’t end up making it out of the house to buy supplies for dinner. Instead, we spend the day exploring each other’s bodies and minds. Touching, tasting, whispering and moaning together.
By the time our stomachs growl it’s six o’clock, so we rummage through his kitchen, deciding on fish finger sandwiches, topped off with a can of coke.
“I’m sorry this isn’t a nicer dinner,” he says as we eat quietly.
“Don’t be,” I nudge into him. “It’s perfect.” We lock eyes for a moment, engrossed by the pull our bodies seem to emit around each other. He edges his chair closer to mine, lifting my leg so it’s resting across his lap. With light fingertips, he runs his hand up and down it, giving me goose bumps all over.
“I heard Ken offering to open doors for you last night,” he says.
Finishing my mouthful, I take a sip of Coke before I reply. “Do you think I should take him up on it? I saw your reaction when he mentioned you’ll stay in the same position for at least another year.”
“I am not happy about that. The work I’m doing now could be done by anyone. I mean, why bother going to all the trouble getting a degree if you’re just going to be treated as no better than a filing clerk?”
“I happen to like the filing clerks in our office.”
He frowns. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. I do. And I have to wonder—especially after that rant he had about your father and morals—if maybe he’s keeping you down on purpose. As a way of getting to your dad or something? I don’t know.” I shrug. “Just a vibe I got.”
“Admittedly, I considered that too. Or he’s just not as interested in nurturing new blood as he says he is. Which is also why I’d advise you against sending Ken your results. After experiencing a big firm, I’d recommend starting small.”
“Is that what you wish you did?”
“Yeah. A buddy of mine went to a small firm—one name partner and two senior solicitors—he does way more hands on work than me.”
“Maybe you should
transfer?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to read through my contract again to find a loophole. But I’m pretty sure I’m stuck in a job I hate for at least another three years.”
“What is it you hate? The fact your skills aren’t utilised?”
He blows out his breath and runs his hand up and down my leg. “To be honest. Everything. I hate everything about it. I hated uni too. I hate law.”
I snap my head back in shock. “Then why do it? I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending all that time studying to be something I don’t enjoy.”
Running his hand through his hair, he shakes his head. “You already know the answer to that.”
“Because it’s what all the men in your family do,” I state, remembering our previous conversations. He holds up a hand, his gesture saying, ‘there you go.’ But I don’t believe it. Why would someone be miserable just because their parents expected them to be something?
“I was never meant to be anything else.”
“What would you be if you could choose for yourself?” I ask, sensing that pushing him to talk about his father is a bad idea.
He lifts his brow, sitting against the back of his seat as he looks out the window. “I’d be a personal trainer,” he says, shifting his gaze to me. “Is that lame?”
I reach out and place my hand over his. “No, Elliot. It’s brave. Following your passion, going against the grain… it’s a very courageous thing to do.”
He gives me a half smile. “Pity I’m too chicken shit to try, huh?”
“No. You’re not chicken shit at all. I have a feeling you’re just biding your time. And when that moment arrives, you’ll stand up and say enough. I see that kind of bravery in you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
He lifts my hand to his lips and presses a kiss against my knuckles. “Will you stay again tonight?” he asks.
“I would love to. You don’t know how much I want to. But I should be getting home,” I say, registering the disappointment in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I skipped training this morning so I have to make up for it tomorrow. There’s a race next weekend, so now isn’t the time to ditch.”
Struggle: Beautiful Series, book one Page 17