Eli (Mallick Brothers Book 4)

Home > Romance > Eli (Mallick Brothers Book 4) > Page 16
Eli (Mallick Brothers Book 4) Page 16

by Jessica Gadziala


  "Nothing, I just can't find... there they are," I said, ducking my head so he couldn't see my face. I wasn't a good liar and I knew it.

  "Sweetheart," he tried again just as I got the door unlocked, and pushed inside.

  Peyton, having anticipated us coming home, had taken off to bed with Coop, leaving the apartment quiet except the hum of her music on.

  "Autumn," he tried again, voice a little more firm thanks to my attempts to ignore him.

  And, well, I couldn't keep doing that.

  So, it was time for the relaxing part of the evening.

  "I have something I want to show you," I told him as he closed and locked the door.

  "Oh yeah?" he asked, watching me like puzzle pieces that were the last two in a giant piece, but somehow still didn't fit together.

  "Mhmm," I murmured, not having to fake the heaviness in my eyelids because, well, the idea of having his hands on me was already making my panties stick to me in desire.

  I reached for the side zipper, pulling it all the way down before standing straight again, then letting the material drop.

  There was a quiet slam as Eli leaned back on the closed door with a groan.

  My smile went wicked as he raked his eyes over me.

  Once his eyes were on my face again, I turned slowly, looking over my shoulder, wanting to gauge his reaction to the panties.

  "Trying to fucking kill me over here, woman," he said, shaking his head.

  He pushed off the door, moving toward me, and sliding his hands up my belly to cup my breasts, pressing his hard cock into my ass.

  "That was the plan," I agreed, grinding my ass against him, wondering how long it would be before he claimed that as well.

  "Bedroom," he growled.

  With a smile - and a shiver of anticipation - I reached for his hand, and pulled him with me to the hall, opening my bedroom door, and flicking on the light.

  I still hadn't finished renovating it. But I did have the gray wood floors laid to match the dove gray walls. The bed was my old white metal bar Victorian-looking one that I wanted to replace with a charcoal gray tufted one I had sitting on an idea board for the better part of three months. Soon. I was close to getting it. The bedspread was a simple, clean white one that cost a small fortune and was a pain in the ass to keep clean, but was a favorite of mine.

  Eli looked around for a second, but moved toward the side of the bed, kicking out of his shoes, then sitting off the side of it. "Come here," he demanded, holding an arm out.

  And when you were naked, wet, and ready, and a hot man 'come hither'd' you, you hithered, damnit.

  But if he had plans to torture me, he was mistaken. As soon as I got between his spread legs, I lowered myself down onto my knees, looking up at him with my heavy eyes as I reached to free the buttons of his shirt.

  "Autumn," he said quietly as my hands slid down his stomach to snag his belt, then undo his button and zip.

  Whatever he was about to say, however, disappeared as I reached in, grabbed his cock, freed it, then sucked it deep before he could even draw a breath.

  He only let me work him for a couple short minutes before his hand was in the hair at the base of my neck, twisting, and yanking upward until his cock left my mouth with a soft pop.

  "On the bed," he demanded, showing a bit of bossy-Eli, minus the anger, and that was just as thrilling as the angry one who plugged, flogged, and fucked me while bound. I wanted to know what this version of Eli had planned for me. I stretched out across the bed, thighs pressed together to try to calm the chaos as he moved to stand, shedding his shirt, then his pants.

  There he was, naked, fucking glorious, with his hard cock straining, promising an end to the torment.

  Just not quite yet.

  He watched me as he stroked himself twice, then turned his attention to my nightstand where he pulled open the deep lower drawer where he - rightly - assumed I kept the toys.

  I didn't really even know what was in there anymore, having really just used a trusty vibrator to get the job done for a long while.

  The low, appreciative chuckle let me know that there was definitely more than that to play with in there.

  "Perfect, he said, producing a pair of cuffs that made me suddenly really glad I hadn't replaced my headboard just yet. He waved at me, and I scooted up toward the top of the bed, raising my hands over my head, giving him a wicked smirk as he moved to straddle my waist, sliding the chain between two rails, then clamping the cold metal on each of my wrists.

  He lowered down, running his tongue down my neck, my chest, circling my nipples.

  But before he could go where I needed contact the most, he was off the bed and in my nightstand again, coming back with something with straps that took me a long second to recognize. A butterfly vibe. You strapped it across your thighs so you could be handless. It vibrated against your clit. And the one I brought home? Yeah, it had a small finger-type extension that slipped inside you and vibrated against your G-spot as well.

  I had brought it home to test it.

  Then had completely forgotten about it.

  He dropped it next to my body as he moved to kneel by my legs. "Legs up," he demanded.

  I pressed them together and put them straight up. He grabbed my calves and shoved them inward, pressing them into my chest as his hand moved down, rubbing my clit quickly side-to-side through my panties before his hand moved up, snagging the lacy material that was half-covering my ass, and dragging it down just slightly. His finger moved in, thrusting unexpectedly inside my pussy, making my body jump, and a moan escape me.

  But before I could even get used to the sensation, his finger was gone, moving back, pressing against, then penetrating my ass.

  And I knew exactly what he had planned for me, exactly what I had been wondering about just moments before.

  When I rocked my hips against him, he withdrew his finger. He pulled my panties off, then reached for the butterfly, clasping it to my thighs, then pressing the little piece inside my pussy before turning it on.

  His eyes closed when I let out a whimper.

  "Eli, wait..." I moaned when he moved off the bed.

  He didn't respond, just went into the top drawer of the nightstand, coming back with a condom and a small bottle of lube.

  But he didn't use either, just watched me writhe as the vibrations pushed me upward and fast.

  "You gonna tell me what you were all tense about earlier?" he asked, making my eyes go huge.

  I wasn't the only one not above using sexual manipulation.

  "Eli..."

  "You don't get to come until you tell me," he informed me. Then, as if to prove his point, pressed between my thighs, flicking the butterfly off, making me squirm and yank against my cuffs.

  "Eli, please," I whimpered, rocking my hips shamelessly, helplessly.

  He watched me, eyes molten, smile evil, as he reached for the condom, slipped it on, then grabbed the lube as he pressed my knees in toward my chest again.

  The cold shock made my body jolt as it slid down my pussy, my ass, dripping off of me as he kept pouring. His hand moved to work the silky liquid around my ass, thrusting a finger inside again to work me. My back arched on a moan before I lost the finger again.

  But then he shifted forward and the thick head of his cock pressed against my ass instead, pushing hard, but not quite penetrating for a long minute as he watched my face for a reaction.

  "Eli..." Whatever I had been about to say trailed off on a choked moan as his cock slid forward, slowly, but demanding, claiming me in one solid thrust, burying to the hilt, making me press my thighs together hard.

  "Talk," he demanded, stilling inside me.

  "I can't. I need you to, yes," I whimpered when he withdrew, then slammed forward again. One of his hands pressed down hard into my lower stomach, making me feel his cock scrape hard against the lower side of my pelvic wall - a sensation that almost made me come right then and there. But he seemed to sense it, pulling almost completely
out of me for a long second, long enough to drag me back from the brink again.

  Once he was sure it was safe, he reached between my thighs and flicked on the vibrator again, making a shudder wrack my body.

  "Tell me," he demanded, voice rough, like he was losing his patience.

  My hips rocked, my breathing a frantic hitching noise. "I can't think. I can't. Please, Eli. Please fuck me," I begged.

  That seemed to take with it the last bit of control he was holding onto.

  His hand pressed into my belly again as he started fucking my ass - hard, rough, fast. It shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but I couldn't even seem to remember to breathe as my clit, G-spot, and ass were worked all at once, driving me up, then over, then crashing down into a screaming, neighborhood-waking orgasm.

  "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," I was still crying as be buried deep, coming so hard that he half-collapsed forward, balancing his weight on a hand pressed beside my chest.

  It was a long moment before he pulled out of me, reaching down to turn off the butterfly, ripping at the velcro, and tossing the whole thing to the floor.

  He reached for his pants, mostly dragging them on, then walking to the door, leaving me bound as he went down the hall to the bathroom.

  It was pointless to struggle, though everything within me wanted to get free, felt way too vulnerable still bound when I knew he was going to come back and demand answers.

  "Please let me go," I begged as soon as he stepped inside. There was genuine desperation in my voice that made his head snap up and his brows furrow.

  "Okay. One second," he said, going to the nightstand for the key. He kneeled on the bed, reaching for the cuffs, and freeing each of my hands. The metal clattered down on the floor behind my bed, forgotten, as Eli sat down and reached to touch the side of my face. "You okay?" he asked, concern dripping from his tongue. "Too much?"

  And because I felt the need to, I turned, and curled into his chest, taking a few deep breaths.

  "Autumn," he demanded again. "You okay?"

  I managed a nod before I took another deep breath and could finally find my voice again. "That was intense," I told him, and felt his arms slide around me, holding onto me tight.

  "Yeah, it was," he agreed quietly, ducking his chin so he could kiss the top of my head.

  There were no further questions.

  He stroked my hair, my back, seeming to brush away the stress that had been eating at me all day.

  It wasn't until I was fully relaxed that I took a deep breath, pulled against his hold, and moved to sit on my knees next to him.

  Even though he was as sated as I was, his eyes went a little hungry as he looked me over. "I need to talk to you about something."

  "I thought so," he agreed, hand going to my knee and giving it a squeeze. "Talk to me," he encouraged, tone calm, body calm, everything calm.

  I hated to ruin that.

  But we had to have this conversation.

  "When I was at work earlier, a group of women came in--"

  "Oh, is this gonna get kinky?" he asked, eyes dancing.

  I smiled slightly, but even I knew it didn't meet my eyes.

  "It was all your brothers' wives."

  There.

  It was out.

  I took a deep breath, watching as the words landed, as they moved through him. He didn't move from his relaxed position, but his entire body stiffened. "What?"

  "I didn't think anything of it at first. I've seen Fee a lot of times. I had no idea she was related to you. I've never asked for her last name. She was just a customer to me, y'know?"

  "What'd she say?" he asked, jaw tight, making the words come out with more of a bite than I think he intended.

  "Apparently, the night you brought me coffee? When we were, ah, walking Coop... one of your brothers was driving past..."

  "Which one?"

  Crap. The details were getting blurry. There were so many of them. "Um, Lea's husband?"

  "Shane," he supplied.

  "Yeah. Well, he saw us, and I guess told everyone. And then the girls decided to come see me."

  "I'm sorry they are putting you in the middle of this," he surprised me by saying, giving my knee a little squeeze.

  I ducked my head, looking for the determination I needed to go through with it to the end.

  "They were, ah, upset, Eli," I said, raising my gaze. "All of them."

  "I know they're mad that--"

  "No, they were crying," I cut him off. "Fee said she decided to put me in the middle because when Hunt came home yesterday, he was upset. And she had only ever seen him choked up twice before. She wanted to see if there was any way that..." I trailed off, suddenly a little queasy at having to go on.

  His guards were back.

  His eyes were blank.

  "Any way that what?"

  I swallowed hard. "That I could convince you to come to Thanksgiving. They said," I powered through when he went to open his mouth, "that your mother has been getting worse every holiday that passes, and they thought that this would, you know, make it all better."

  Pulling the Mom-card was cruel, I knew.

  But they were the facts.

  And maybe he had been trying to hide from them, trying to convince himself that they were better without him, but he could only live so long with the wool over his eyes.

  If I had to be the one to pull it off, and deal with the consequences of that, at least he wouldn't be blind anymore. Like that or not.

  "They need to move o--"

  "But they're not," I cut him off. "They're not," I repeated, voice softer. "They're not. And they're hurting. And they will never accept this, Eli. They love you. Of course they want you around."

  "You don't..."

  "I know," I agreed, nodding. "I know I don't understand fully. I get that. And I know that I'm just some chick that..."

  "Don't," he cut me off, voice slicing through the air. "Don't finish that sentence."

  My head ducked, not sure how to take that. "I told them I would mention it," I said, head lifting. "I told them I couldn't make any promises, but I said I would bring it up."

  "This was why you were so tense," he concluded, watching me with a look I couldn't quite interpret.

  "I didn't want to ruin dinner," I admitted.

  "You thought I would get pissed," he concluded, taking his hand off my knee to rake it down the scruff on his face.

  "I was really looking forward to dinner," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders, shaking my head at myself. It was silly, but true.

  "We'll have to try this again on a day my sisters-in-law don't ambush you."

  My head lifted, surprised, sure he was going to be resentful.

  "I won't say it won't happen again. This being a thing," he said, waving a hand between us, "and them knowing that means they can use you. And I'm sorry about that. But I don't want that to fuck this up either."

  This being a thing.

  I wasn't sure what 'a thing' meant in his mind, but in mine, it meant something more than sex. Right? That seemed like a logical conclusion.

  Or maybe that was just my heart speaking.

  Peyton was right.

  I wasn't just infatuated with him, with the amazing sex.

  I was taking the few first tentative steps into love.

  That was why I was so worked up all day, why there felt like there was something lodged in my throat when I tried to eat a very nice dinner.

  I was falling for him, plain and simple.

  And while it was, technically new, we had been corresponding for five years. I felt I knew him as well as I did most of my friends. It wasn't as new as it seemed. Just the physical aspect was new. The mental and emotional part had been going on for a good, long time. I suspected, for the both of us.

  "I don't want anything to fuck this up either," I agreed, from, well, the bottom of my heart, damnit.

  "So we aren't letting shit like this get between us."

  It wasn't exactly a question, but I answere
d anyway. "Nope," I agreed.

  "We're gonna let it drop for now, yeah?" he asked, tapping his chest again.

  And, well, I pretty much flew at him.

  "Yeah," I agreed.

  Then we dropped it.

  TWELVE

  Eli

  We let it drop, like I said to, for over a week.

  The next morning, we had woken up to Peyton in the kitchen in full-on 1950s gear with a full skirt, a frilly waist apron, heels, her hair pulled up into some intricate up-do, and her makeup done flawlessly. She had a giant metal bowl on her hip, mixing something as the smell of sizzling bacon made my stomach grumble.

  "What is this, June Cleaver?" Autumn asked, reaching up to try to pat down her hair.

  "Whatever do you mean, dear?" she asked, sugar sweet. "I always get up at six AM to get ready for my day so I can get to my womanly duties."

  Autumn bumped my hip as her sister turned to drop batter into a warm pan. "She's a nut. Just roll with it," she said, giving her sister a fond smile.

  She was that.

  A nut, quirky, a real character.

  One moment, impersonating a 1950s housewife, the next, cursing like a sailor and explaining the rape-fantasy book she just read.

  I took my coffee, standing back, and watching the two play off each other with the sarcastic, teasing, playful ease that only siblings could manage, poking fun without hurting feelings.

  I felt it then.

  A tug.

  An urge.

  I wasn't stupid.

  I knew it for what it was.

  I missed them.

  See, this thing with Autumn and me, it was a mix of amazing and awful. Amazing because she was an incredible woman. I found myself thinking about her way too fucking much, missing her even though we had just started seeing each other. She was smart, accomplished, sweet, fun, and sexy as all get-out.

  The shit we had going on, I had a feeling it was going somewhere.

  Meaning somewhere that could possibly be permanent.

  The awful part was, well, in letting her in, in letting down my guards with her, I was losing the ability to keep them in place even when I wasn't around her.

  So watching her interact with her sibling was affecting me in ways I promised myself it wouldn't, that I couldn't allow.

 

‹ Prev