Breaking Him

by Sherilee Gray

  When one of his hands left my hip, I mustered the energy to look down my body at him. He’d dropped it between his legs, frantically working his zipper. I couldn’t see his cock from my position, but I knew when he’d freed it and started jacking. It was thrilling that putting his mouth on me got him that worked up, that when he was with me like this, he forgot everything but the way I made him feel. But I didn’t want him coming in his hand, not this time. I wanted that big cock inside me. I didn’t know if he wanted the same thing, if he wanted to go that far, but I found myself tightening my grip in his hair.

  “Eli…”

  He didn’t hear me. Mouth still at my thigh, nuzzling me as he worked himself.

  I pushed myself up. “Eli, stop…”

  He stilled, eyes lifting to mine, lids hooded, heavy, confused. “Did I… Did I do something…?”

  “You did nothing wrong.” I quickly added, “You’ve done everything right.” I sat up, steadying myself with one hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his whiskered jaw, and held his hungry gaze. “Do you want to fuck me, Eli?”

  He sucked in a rough breath through his nose. “Yes,” he said instantly. The dark hunger I saw in him intensified. Jesus, I’d never been this hot for anyone, not ever. “But are you…are you sure?”

  I slid my thumb over his bottom lip, and though he’d stopped stroking his cock, I noticed the way he squeezed his fist around the wide base, the way his mouth parted when he did. His tongue darted out, tasting my skin, and I shivered. “I want you inside me, Elijah.” Sliding off the table, forcing him to sit back, I grabbed the bottom of my dress and dragged it over my head. “Badly.”

  His hand dropped away from his cock, and he leaned back, inviting me to climb onto his lap. His scent wrapped around me, the sound of his ragged breaths. I moved between his thighs and pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside, then climbed on, straddling him. His chest was pumping rapidly, his breaths shaky and harsh.

  “Okay?”

  He nodded, his hands going to my waist.

  The crisp hair on his chest abraded my nipples, making them tighten to aching peaks, and the impressive ridge of his cock dragged over my bare flesh. I groaned and slid my arms around his neck. “I love the way you feel pressed up against me like this,” I whispered, trembling with how much I wanted him. I touched his face, my fingers on his cheek, thumb sliding over his chin, and leaned in to kiss him. One of his arms banded around me instantly, lips meeting mine without hesitation. I opened my mouth over his, sliding my tongue inside. He groaned, then he was kissing me back. Deep licks, fucking my mouth. He growled when I sucked his tongue, his hand dropping to my ass, squeezing hard enough to hurt but instead it felt so damn good. He held me there, the underside of his cock spreading me, grinding against me, grazing my clit.

  He kissed my chin, my throat. “Darlin’,” he rasped against my neck. “Please…please…I can’t…” He hissed, humping against me. “I want inside, let me inside, sweetheart.”

  Every word this man said had the ability to destroy me. His honesty blew me away. Eli didn’t play games; he said what he felt, and I could deny him nothing.

  I reached down, fisted his cock, and using his shoulder as leverage, pulled myself up. Positioning the head at my opening, I wrapped both arms around his neck and lowered myself slowly. The fat head breached my opening, and I bit my lip. Oh shit. He was hot and hard and so damn thick.

  He bucked, a shout exploding past his lips. Gripping my hips, he thrust up, slamming me down at the same time, filling me to the root, like he’d reached the edge of his control and flown over.

  I cried out and dug my nails into his shoulders. He was so damn big, stretching me to my limits. I dropped my head to his chest, breathing through it, the pleasure-pain firing through me. That’s when I realized he’d gone completely still. Apart from his chest and the pounding of his heart against mine, he was like stone beneath me. I lifted my head, and his eyes were screwed shut, teeth gritted.

  “Eli?”

  “I’m hurting you.” He shook his head. “I’ve never done this before… I’ve never…and I’m hurting you.”

  Oh God.

  “Look at me.” His eyes opened, and what I saw nearly killed me. The man was so damn conflicted, and hating himself for it. I placed my hands on his shoulders, fingers brushing the side of his neck, and circled my hips.

  He exhaled heavily on a low moan, his massive, sinewy body rolling up to meet mine. “I can’t… I can’t stop…”

  “I don’t want you to.” I leaned in and kissed him gently. “You’re so big, Elijah. I just needed a minute to adjust. But you feel so good. The sweetest ache I’ve ever felt.”

  He licked his lips, biceps jumping under my searching hands. “Couldn’t bear it if I hurt you.”

  “You didn’t hurt me. Can’t you feel how wet I am?” I circled my hips again.

  He cursed. “And tight, darlin’. So goddamn tight.”

  Grinding down, I gasped when he went deeper and tightened my arms around his neck so I could rock against him. “Feels good, doesn’t? Only you do that to me. Only you make me this way.”

  With how I was straddling him, my feet unable to touch the ground, all I could do was move my hips against his, grinding and rocking. We both needed more. I kissed him. “Lift me,” I whispered against his lips. “Use me. Use me to get off.” I rolled my hips again. “Fuck me, Eli.”

  “God, you want that, don’t you, Abigail?” Those big, rough hands cupped my ass. “You want me to fuck you, take you?”

  I tried to move my hips, but he was holding me still. “Please.”

  He snapped then, a growl exploding from him, and he lifted me effortlessly, bringing me back down. We both groaned.

  I didn’t need to give him instruction after that because he took over, took what he wanted, bringing me down on his massive dick over and over until I was a mindless, shaking mess. His heavy stare never left mine once, watching me, growing more intense, wilder. We were slick with sweat, panting, grinding, kissing.

  I couldn’t take it another minute, and at the same time never wanted it to end. My climax was hovering just out of reach, teetering on the edge. I grabbed one of his hands and pressed his fingers to my clit. “Rub it, please. Please let me come.”

  He did what I asked. Rough-skinned fingers expertly sliding over my slippery, swollen clit. “Do you need me to take you there, beautiful girl?”

  At his question, my sex started pulsing. I whimpered, using his shoulders again to keep us sliding against each other, while he continued to work me.

  I knew he could feel it, because his expression turned fierce. “That’s it. Come around my cock, Abigail.”

  He’d never said anything like that before; hell, he’d never said my name like that before, and for some reason, that’s what tipped me over the edge. That gritty voice, filled with sex and need, saying my name.

  I screamed and rode him through it. His hand moved from between my legs and returned to my hips, then he took control again, slamming me down and at the same time thrusting up into me. He began to shake and groan, cock pulsing relentlessly as his hot come shot deep inside me, setting off wave after wave of exquisite aftershocks.

  When he was done, I dropped my head forward, resting it on his shoulder. His hand was on my back, that fine sandpaper skin of his moving over mine, making me tingle all over.

  Turning my face to the side, I tilted back, looking up at him, feeling more nurtured and cared for in that moment, in Eli’s arms, than I ever had. Running his fingers through my hair, brushing it away from my face, he stared down at me.

  “Was it how you imagined?” I whispered.

  He shook his head and pressed fingers lightly over the rapidly beating pulse at my neck. “So much better.”

  I knew I was smiling like crazy, but I didn’t even try to hold it in. And as much as I wanted to stay where I was, we couldn’t sit like this all night. “Do you want to shower with me?”

  “Yes.” He instant
ly lifted me, standing me on my feet.

  I looked up, and Eli’s gaze was locked on his come sliding down my thighs. I was on the pill and I’d never had sex without a condom before. I probably should have told him that before I climbed into his lap, but neither one of us had been thinking clearly.

  “It’s okay,” I said gently. “I’m on the pill. I’m clean. And since you’ve never…”

  He got up from the chair in a heartbeat, lifting me off the ground and swinging me into his arms. Before I could open my mouth to ask what was going on, his mouth slammed down on mine. He kissed me hard, tongue tangling with mine.

  With a groan, he lifted his head. “I want to fuck you again, Abigail. And I want to watch my come slide down your legs every time I do.”

  Chapter Seven

  The first rays of light filtered into my room, casting patterns on our bare skin through my old lace curtains. Eli was behind me, the tip of his finger gently tracing the shadowed flower design on my hip. That’s how I woke. Neither of us had said a word. I didn’t even know if he knew I was awake…

  Just the thought of last night, the kitchen, the shower, then here in this bed had my pulse quickening and heat growing between my legs. I’d never felt this way about another person before—I couldn’t describe it. There was this unwavering lust that constantly pounded through me. I craved him all the time. And yet I’d never been more content, even with all my troubles. His body behind mine, his scent, his warmth, the sound of his steady breaths… I could stay like this forever. I wanted to let him take care of me, and I wanted to take care of him in return. I didn’t have a name for it…was too afraid to try…not yet…

  My tummy rumbled loudly.

  Elijah stilled behind me, then a second later, he removed his hand from my hip and rolled away. His feet thudded against the floor.

  I twisted to look at him and almost bit my tongue. Elijah Hays was the most exquisite man I’d ever seen in jeans and a T-shirt, but naked? Dear God, he was magnificent. Tall and broad, rippling muscle and rugged angles. The definition of masculine. He was striding away, his back and bare ass on full display as he headed for the bedroom door.

  I finally got my mouth to work. “Where are you going?”

  He stopped, rested a hand on the doorframe, and looked at me. “Wait there, Abigail.” He said it gently, but there was no mistaking the command behind it.

  Did he know he was doing it? Issuing those quiet orders? Was he aware of the dominant side of himself? Had it always been there? Or had this new development between us brought it out in him? I had no idea why it affected me so damn much. Why that gentle order, given with that gritty rasp, low and deep, turned my belly to warm liquid, had me lying here eager for his return.

  I heard him banging around in the kitchen, and it was hard not to go and see what he was doing, but I did as he said and waited right there. He was back ten minutes later. I hadn’t even heard him coming. You’d think with the size of the man that would be impossible. He was carrying a mug and a plate. His gaze swept over me as he neared the bed, and his eyes glittered in a satisfied way that sent a jolt of pleasure through me. He placed the mug on the small table beside me, then put the plate on my lap. There were two slices of toast with Cassie’s homemade blueberry jam spread on it.

  My heart did a little flutter as I scooched up the bed. “You made me breakfast?”

  “You’re hungry,” he said simply and climbed in beside me.

  I brushed my hair away from my face. “Yeah, but you didn’t need to do that. I could’ve—” My belly rumbled again, loudly.

  His whole body went tense. “Eat the toast, darlin’.”

  I picked up a piece and took a bite. It didn’t take a genius to work out what this was about, why he’d reacted this way. If me being hungry caused him distress, brought back memories that caused him pain, I’d eat the damn toast. His entire body seemed to relax as I chewed.

  I’d finished half of the first piece and washed it down with tea before I spoke. “How did you know I like tea and not coffee?”

  He lifted a hand, sliding it up my thigh. My breath hitched. “Same way I know you only wear your beautiful blond hair down when we go to town, or after your shower in the evening. Same way I know you’re afraid of storms and that you love to dance.” He continued higher, to the dip in my waist, then up until he was skimming the underside of my breast. “I pay attention. When it comes to you, I’ve always paid attention.” He looked up at me. “Please, keep eating.”

  Oh God. Who was this man? What was he doing to me?

  He watched me finish the first piece. I took another sip of tea, then picked up the second. I could’ve stopped after that one slice, but having all of his attention on me was too addictive. I found I wanted to please him, and if that meant eating another piece of toast, I would. I also loved the way he was touching me while he watched. He was lying on his side, eyes on my lips, moving over my face, and his hand never stopped petting me, teasing me. I was tingling all over, goose bumps prickling my skin. Like a contented cat, desperate for another stroke from her master.

  I shivered, not sure how that made me feel. Eli had sneaked up on me. Everything about him was a surprise. And every small piece of himself he revealed just made me hunger for more.

  “You don’t like it when I’m hungry?” I said into the silence.

  He shook his head.

  I thought I knew, but I wanted him to open up, just a little, to share some of that burden with me. “Why?” I whispered.

  He didn’t look at me. Instead he watched his hand, following the path it took over my skin. “Being hungry hurts,” he rasped, then lifted his eyes to mine. “Don’t ever want you to hurt, Abigail.”

  Tears immediately stung the backs of my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Elijah.”

  “Don’t…don’t pity me, Abigail.” He shook his head. “Not you.”

  He’d said that to me before, and it killed me he thought I felt that way. “I don’t pity you. I feel…” I released a shaky breath, trying to release some of the anger suddenly surging through me. “I feel fucking furious that you had to go through that, that half this shitty town knew and did nothing.”

  His hand stilled on my hip, and his fingers flexed, pressing into my skin, something new and beautiful transforming his rugged face. “I’m okay, darlin’,” he said roughly.

  In some ways, yes, he was more than okay. But my belly had barely rumbled, and he’d bolted out of bed to get me food, like the sheets were on fire. He would’ve been very young when he became aware of the abuse in his home. His mother must have suffered at the hands of his bastard father for a lot of years before Eli was old enough to do something about it. I got the feeling that’s where this need to take care of me came from. Did he believe he’d failed her in some way?

  “Is it true? Did you kill him?” I could barely believe I’d said it out loud, but I realized as soon as I did that the answer didn’t matter to me. It never had.

  His eyes lifted to mine, held, and I could see him physically brace himself. “Yes.”

  “Good,” I rasped.

  His entire body quaked. “Good?”

  “You had to protect yourself and your mom. No one else was doing it. You did the only thing you could.”

  “Christ, darlin’.” He dropped his head to my lap, wrapping his arms around my legs, and I ran my fingers through his rumpled hair. We didn’t talk anymore about that. We didn’t need to. It changed nothing, not for me.

  Instead we talked about the ranch, plans to get things back on track, what I’d make for dinner that night. If he wanted to share more with me, I’d be here, but I wasn’t going to push.

  I still had half a piece of toast left, but I’d had enough. “I’m full,” I said, and he lifted his head.

  I held it to his lips. He obviously believed me, because he bit it in half. I handed him my tea and watched him finish it off. Even the way he ate was appealing, the way the muscles in his jaw jumped when he chewed. Damn, it was sexy.
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  He finished the drink, then handed the cup to me to put on the side table. He shifted closer then, leaning over me, taking me to my back, one hand on the mattress at my side, the other lifting to my jaw. He touched me with such tenderness my heart squeezed. Those fingers skimmed my throat, my breasts. He cupped one, holding it in a grip that could only be described as possessive, and squeezed, swiping his thumb over the hard peak until I was panting. He kept going, trailing the coarse, callused tips of his fingers over my quivering belly. The expression on his face, the way he touched me, it was like I was uncharted territory and he was discovering every dip, curve, and valley for the first time.

  “I like knowing you’re full. It makes me feel”—he looked like he was struggling to find the right words—“full as well, but in a different way. It’s hard to explain.” He slid farther down my body and gripped my thighs, spreading them, exposing my bare sex to his hungry gaze.

  I whimpered, his words swirling through my head mixed with the way he was affecting my body. I didn’t know which way was up. Just his eyes on me, his voice sliding over me, had me squirming.

  He moved between my legs and dropped lower. “Only thing I’m hungry for is you.” Nuzzling my inner thigh, he spread me open with his fingers, and I watched him suck in a sharp breath, his eyes glazing over. “You like the way my hands feel on you?” His voice had gotten rougher.

  He slid his fingers through my drenched slit, and I arched against the mattress. “Yes.”

  “I like having you all over me. The way you smell. The way you taste.” He groaned, nose gliding higher up my thigh. “Ah, you’re soaking, Abi. So wet. I do that to you, don’t I, sweetheart? You get this way because of the way I touch you?”

  I was trembling, thigh muscles twitching. “Yes.” I reached down and threaded my fingers in his sleep-rumpled hair. “Please, Eli. I need your mouth on me.”

  He growled, wrapped his hands around my thighs, and buried his face between my legs. His deep moan as he dragged his nose through my slick lips, covering himself in me, had me trying to grind against him. I didn’t get very far, though; those strong hands held me immobile, held me tight against his mouth. And dear God, the sounds he made, the pleasure he was taking from going down on me, was one of the hottest things I’d ever experienced.