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Breaking Him

Page 3

by Sherilee Gray


  Neither of us moved. His labored breaths were loud, so loud I was surprised I hadn’t heard them sooner. I should be embarrassed, horrified, but I was too far gone to stop now. Shit, having him standing there, eyes on me while I fucked myself, did something to me, had me on the verge of coming instantly. He wanted to watch.

  Wanted me to show him.

  He wasn’t backing away, and I didn’t want him to go, so I slowly spread wider, giving him a better view. His eyes dropped to where I was still working my slippery, swollen clit, and I took advantage, showing him what I liked, what I wanted from him, and worked the vibrator deeper, sliding it in and out slow and steady, tormenting us both.

  He made a sound that was half moan, half broken sob, then squeezed his cock harder. His other hand peeled off the doorframe and slapped against the partially open door, hard. It flew open, banging against the wall with force, and he stumbled over the threshold, into my room. He didn’t approach the bed, though; he moved to the side, back colliding with the wall, like he needed it to hold himself up, then growled, “More.” He licked his lips. “Show me. Please.”

  Oh dear God. His face was dark, hands shaking, and all the while he crudely massaged his dick through his jeans. He was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I had no choice. I wanted to give him anything he asked for. So I gave him more. Spreading as wide as I could, I fucked myself harder, faster, my clit sliding under my furiously moving fingers the whole time. A keening whimper burst from my throat—close, so close. I twisted and moaned but never took my eyes off his, the intent, hungry way they watched me, the way his lips parted, tongue sliding out, licking his suckable lips.

  I reached up and squeezed one of my tits, tugging, pinching the nipple, and heat shot down my spine, burning through my core, and I blew up. I cried his name, arching against the mattress, screaming as I came so damn hard, light was dancing in front of my eyes.

  Eli growled, the animalistic sound bursting through my orgasmic haze, and I forced my eyes open. His were wild, glittering, then he grunted and took a step toward me. We were both panting, gazes locked. I opened my mouth—to say what, I didn’t know—but before I could, he stopped suddenly. Torment distorted his ruggedly handsome features, sharpening his cheekbones, hardening his jaw, and a sound exploded past his lips, a sound that lifted the hair at the back of my neck, a cry filled with pain. Then he spun around and stormed from the room. I lay there stunned. I had no idea what he was thinking, but I knew I had to go after him.

  Sliding off the bed, I dragged my dress over my head and raced on shaky legs out the door. The yard was empty, no sign of him, so I ran to the barn. The interior was dim, silent; there was no pounding on his punching bag this time. He wasn’t down here. I looked at the stairs that led to his rooms. I’d never gone up there, not since he’d moved in. The steps were sturdy, rough against my bare feet, not making a sound as I cautiously took them. His door was closed, so I knocked softly. No reply came, but I knew he was in there. Turning the handle, I pushed the door open, and my breath caught in my lungs.

  Eli stood, back to a tall bookshelf, face red, eyes screwed shut, jeans undone, and cock in his hand. He was stroking the long length with sharp, brutal tugs.

  That alone was hot enough, but something about seeing the magnificent man in front of me, his tall, built body against a shelf full of well-read books—it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

  Oh dear God, he was magnificent.

  Without thinking about it, without saying a word, my only thought to have that beautiful cock in my mouth, I crossed the room and dropped to my knees in front of him. “Let me,” I rasped.

  His eyes flew open, and he tried to back up. “Jesus, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…”

  I reached up, wrapped my fingers around his, and his body jerked like I’d given him an electric shock. “Let me,” I repeated.

  “Miss Abigail,” he gritted out. “You shouldn’t…”

  I climbed to my feet, gripped the bottom of his shirt, and holding his gaze, lifted it slowly, giving him the chance to tell me to stop, that this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t. He stared back, and the way he looked at me made my pulse race.

  I dragged it up over his powerful body. He had to lean forward so I could pull it over his head and fling it aside. “I want to make you feel good.” Then I leaned in, wrapped my lips around one of his flat brown nipples, and sucked and licked it. He moaned and began to shake as I dipped lower, tracing the ridges of his abs. I groaned when I finally got a taste of his warm, salty skin. Damn, so much better than I’d ever dreamed—and I’d dreamed a lot.

  His cock was as impressive as I suspected it would be. I knew I couldn’t suck all of him down, but I could make it damn good. Dropping to my knees again, I wrapped my fingers around the engorged base and sucked the fat purple head into my mouth.

  He shouted, hands going to my shoulders, and shoved me back. “Jesus Christ… What are you…?”

  His cock pulsed in my hand when I squeezed it, cutting off his words, and his deep groan made my belly quiver. Pre-come leaked from the tip, coating my fingers, and I slid my fist up and back. “Do you hurt, Eli?”

  Every one of his muscles bunched and tightened, and a gasp burst free. “You don’t have to do that.” He moaned, hips rolling. “Christ…so good…”

  For some reason his words tore at my heart. I darted my tongue out, tasting him. “Do you want me to? You taste amazing.” I leaned in, nuzzled the dark hair at the base of his cock, drawing in his musky scent, and looked up at him. “I want to.”

  “Why?” Vulnerability mixed with something dark and breathtaking clouded his eyes.

  I slid my free hand up and down one of his rock-solid thighs and locked eyes with him. “Because you want me to. Because I desperately want to.”

  “You like it…the way I taste?” He was blushing again, uncertainty in his voice, and it equally turned me on and destroyed me at the same time.

  “Yes.” I slid my tongue over the head of his cock again. “Hell yes.” His expression was one I’d never seen before on Eli, pain and excitement, maybe a little fear. It thrilled me. “Did you like watching me get myself off?”

  “Yes,” he growled.

  “I’d get the same pleasure from watching you.” The next words formed in my head and I almost didn’t say them, but somehow I knew Elijah needed them. “I just want to please you, Eli. Have you…have you thought about it, us together? Me, on my knees in front of you like this? I have.”

  He groaned, more pre-come spilling from his dick. “Yes.” He let out a ragged groan. “Yes, goddammit.”

  I nearly whimpered. My thighs shook, slick with my arousal, throbbing again like I hadn’t made myself come just a short time ago. “Just tell me you want this, tell me you need it as much as I want to give it to you, and I will, Eli. I’ll make you feel so good.”

  His abs tightened, hips jerking forward like he had no control over them. Then he looked down at me, conflicting emotions moving through his dark eyes. But trumping them all was heat, so much heat, it scorched me in the best way. When he finally spoke, his words sounded torn from his throat, tight and raspy with need.

  A shudder quaked through his body. “Please…suck it. Suck my cock.”

  Chapter Three

  “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined doing this to you?” I gripped his length more firmly, wrapping both hands around the wide base, the skin smooth and hot beneath my fingers, against my palm. “You’re big, Eli. Bigger than any man I’ve seen.”

  He moaned and shook his head. “Don’t.” He pressed his hands against the shelf behind him. “Don’t tell me about anyone else, I can’t…just don’t.”

  Oh God.

  I kissed the fat, swollen tip. “It’s just you and me.” I darted my tongue out, tasting him once more. “No one else.” I started to jack that impressive cock with both hands, then leaned in and sucked the head deep into my mouth, taking him as far as I could. He shouted, both hands hitting the bo
okshelf on either side of him hard enough to make the windows rattle. Releasing him with one hand, I dragged my nails up the side of his massive thigh, then reached around and gripped one muscular ass cheek and squeezed. Pulling back, I put my tongue to good use, licking him from root to tip, lapping the ridge, getting off on his harsh breaths echoing around the room, his seductive scent getting stronger, the way his eyes were locked on what I was doing to him. I kept at it until his abs looked cut from stone and his thigh muscles were jumping.

  He bucked, a desperate sound ripping from his throat. “Darlin’… Darlin’, please. I can’t take much more.”

  Christ, the sound of his voice, the way he’d just called me darlin’, I was close to coming again and I hadn’t even touched my swollen clit.

  Tilting my head back, I looked up at him as I reached for one of his hands, prying it off the shelf and placing it at the back of my head. I sucked him deep, and his fingers immediately burrowed into my hair, holding on. I sucked harder, and his low groan seemed to shake the ground beneath me.

  “Shit,” he barked and tried to pull back. “Gonna come…”

  I stayed where I was, then he was coming, shaking and growling, hips jerking as he pumped hot and hard down my throat. I stayed where I was until he was finished, then I took my time licking him clean. When I was done, I rose to my feet and did what I’d been dying to do for the longest time. I reached up and cupped the side of his face, dragging my thumb across his stubbled jaw, feeling the texture against my skin. “You’re magnificent, Eli Hays.” Then, going up on my toes, pulling him down to meet me, I placed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth and stepped back.

  His breath rushed in and out of his lungs like he’d just run full speed from one end of the ranch to the other. His eyes dropped to my chest, down to the apex of my thighs, and he took a step closer. More than anything, I wanted to go to him, let him do to me whatever was going through his head right then, but I knew if I did, I would never leave this room. Not good, not when I had Garrett’s wife, Cassie, popping over for a beer and a catch-up. If she caught us together…well, I didn’t know how she’d react. How could I explain it to her, when I didn’t know what this was myself?

  But that wasn’t the only reason I was saying no to anything more right then.

  I planted my hand on his abs, shivering at the way those bulky muscles tightened. “I wanted to do that for you. I don’t expect anything in return. Things got heated fast. Think about it, whether you wanna go any further with this.” I took a step back, and he swayed toward me. My eyes dipped to his already hardening cock. Sweet Jesus. “You want more, you know where I am. But if you don’t?” I offered him a small smile. “No hard feelings. I’ll leave you to your own company and we’ll carry on like before, like this never happened.”

  I hated that idea. A lot. And even as I said the words I didn’t know if I believed what I was saying. But I also didn’t want to push him into anything.

  I took him in, one last time, all heaving, rippling muscle, expression fierce, jaw tight, eyes bright. Then I walked out, shutting the door behind me.

  …

  Sweat trickled down between my shoulder blades, dirt smearing my arms, as I pulled weeds from around my struggling tomato plants. I’d neglected a lot of things after Dad died; it was hard taking on full responsibility of running the ranch. I’d been doing most of the work before he passed on, but we’d been a good team—we picked up each other’s slack. It’d been just the two of us for a long time, and I missed him like crazy.

  I didn’t know why I was so melancholy. I’d woken up feeling low, and that dark cloud had hovered over my head all day. Lifting a hand to shield the sun, I looked out to the field where Elijah was working with the mare again. He had a halter in his hand, letting her scent it, while he continued to touch her face. Getting her used to the sensation, the smell.

  The horse’s ear pricked up. I couldn’t see Eli’s face, but I knew he was talking to her, comforting her, encouraging her, praising her as he slid a hand into his pocket for a treat—rewarding her for being a good girl. That’s what he’d be murmuring in her ear. “Good girl. That’s my girl.” His deep voice low, gentle, but with that ever-present growl that lifted the hair at the back of my neck.

  There was something in him, something hungry and wild, something I didn’t know if even he was aware of. He’d obviously closed himself off from everything and everyone, from his own needs and feelings. Not surprising with the way people treated him. But I knew it was there, lurking just below the surface. A part of him he’d locked down tight, constantly fought against. I craved that part of him. I wanted to be the one to set it free.

  I wanted to break through, break him—so I could put him back together piece by piece and make him whole again.

  Then I wanted him to turn all that newly unleashed hunger on me, have those scarred, rough hands on my skin, demanding, taking whatever they wanted. I wanted him to make me scream his name until I forgot my own.

  I wanted him to gentle me, praise and encourage me as he bent me to his will.

  A shiver slid through me.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  A gust of wind came out of nowhere, whipping around me, and a crack rang out as a bolt of lightning rent the sky. I shivered again, but this time for another reason. I hated storms. Had since I was a little girl. Though I’d welcome this one, welcome the fears that came with it, if it would bring blessed rain.

  I looked back to the field, and Eli was heading toward the barn, the mare left to graze. Troubled by my thoughts of him, the way they’d affected me, confused me—aroused me—I realized I wasn’t ready to face him again just yet. Not when I could still taste him on my tongue, when I could still feel the way he’d trembled under my hands, could hear the lust-filled noises he’d made when he’d come ringing in my ears.

  Spinning around, I raced toward the house. Darting up the porch stairs, I slammed the door after me, leaning against it, breathing hard, right as a low, building roll of thunder reached its peak. It was so damn close the windows rattled. My arms flew up to cover my head, and I shrieked.

  It was just a goddamn storm, not an omen, or a sign something bad would happen. Logically I knew this, but no matter how hard I tried not to let it get to me, every time one blew through I reverted to a scared kid, waiting for my world to implode. I could still hear my father’s voice, competing with the thunderstorm raging outside, lightning flashing, flickering bright through my bedroom window, as he told me my mother had gone away and wasn’t coming back. That she’d decided to leave her family and start fresh somewhere else without us. And I could still see the doctor’s somber expression, the way he’d shaken his head, eyes sad as he’d walked out of my father’s room, thunder rumbling overhead, drowning out the blood roaring through my ears, as he’d told me it was too late, my dad was gone.

  Goose bumps prickled my skin. Climbing into my dad’s old armchair in the living room, I pulled up my knees, wrapped my arms around myself, and squeezed my eyes shut. I don’t know how long I sat like that, trying desperately to block out the sounds of the storm, trying to ignore the way my belly twisted and curled.

  Someone knocked heavily on the door.

  “Shit.” I jumped, the urgent sound yanking me back to the present. Dread instantly unfurled in my chest as I climbed out of the chair and headed to the door. All sorts of scenarios swam through my head, none of them good. The knock came again, this time louder. Gripping the handle, I pulled it open. Lightning split the rainless sky in two, lighting up Elijah’s face. His jaw was hard, eyes boring into me, big body seeming to heave with every breath he took.

  He pulled his cap off his head. “I came to check on you,” he rumbled, giving the thunder a run for its money.

  I stared up at him. How did he know? How could he?

  His brows lowered. “You always run inside first sign of a storm,” he said, like he could read my mind.

  It’d been a while since I’d heard him string
so many words together. Talking made him uncomfortable for some reason. That he’d come to me, had done something that was hard for him, to make sure I was okay? It hit me like a raging bull. And I just…reacted. I couldn’t explain or control it. Before I could think better of it, I’d taken the two steps separating us and literally leaped into his arms, burying my face against his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. He caught me effortlessly, a soft grunt puffing past his lips. He stood stiff for a second, from shock or confusion I didn’t know which, then his heavy arms tightened around me, holding me there.

  He murmured something against my hair and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. I should have been embarrassed, humiliated by the way I was acting, but right then, I needed someone, needed him. I needed the distraction, anything to get me out of my own head, to distance myself from the pain, the memories.

  He walked farther into the house. The hand on my ass flexed, the other was on my shoulder, his forearm locked across my back. He squeezed me even closer, then sat on the couch. With him sitting, I ended up straddling his thighs. He was extremely hard, and I bit my cheek to stifle a needy moan. He planted his hands on my hips and scooted me back a little, and when I glanced up at him, his cheekbones had deepened in color. His face remained impassive, though, concern clearly etched there, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.

  Suddenly I was embarrassed of the way I’d acted. Showing weakness like that wasn’t me. I never showed my hand, never gave people ammunition to hurt me. And even though I knew Eli wasn’t like that, I planted my hands on his chest to climb off him, mumbling my apology. His hands were still on my hips and his fingers dug in, holding me where I was.

  I glanced up at him, and he shook his head. Then without a word, he pulled me in, tucking my head under his chin. His fingers curled around my nape, while the other slid down my back to my ass, and he effortlessly dragged me closer, so I was perched on his hard cock, his powerful frame wrapped around me. I sat there stunned. His warmth surrounded me, his smell an intoxicating mix of hay, leather, and clean sweat. We stayed like that for a while, neither one moving. Then finally his fingers twitched and slowly, ever so slowly, he started to rub my back. The movement was cautious, unsure, his heart hammering under my cheek. Mine picked up as well, my breath growing choppy as the need between my thighs grew. The heavy swell behind his zipper got bigger, harder, and I had no control over the way my hips did a little circle, my body reaching for more of his.

 

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