Elias (GRIT Sector 1)

by Rebecca Sherwin

  “I can't.”

  Black eyes met mine as a strong tongue extended from perfect lips in a circular motion around my nipple. He wanted me to watch, and I didn’t want to take my eyes off him as he sent waves of euphoria through my entire body.

  “Ask me.”

  His eyes were softer now. He didn’t want to refuse me so we could play a game and give him his kicks. He wanted me to ask him because he wanted permission. He wanted to know it was okay to continue this, that I wanted it as much as I did and with Elias submissive and prepared to succumb to our attraction to each other, I was not going to back down.

  “Elias,” I breathed, taking hold of him and pulling him closer. “I want you to fuck me.”

  He growled and rested his forehead on mine as his hand slipped lower and dipped into my underwear. He growled again when he felt how wet I was, how every inch of my core throbbed with the need to be satisfied by him.

  “Stay still. Take deep breaths.”

  I frowned when he began circling my clit, making no move to give me what I wanted. His dark eyes stared down at me as he picked up the pace and I tried to breathe beyond the intensity of his touch. He read me like a book. He knew exactly how much pressure to apply, how I needed to be touched, and what would bring me to orgasm in seconds. I shouldn’t have let him. I should have fought it, but as my body began to quiver, my core began to tighten and I writhed beneath him, held down by his strong body, I lost all control. Tears streamed from my eyes as I closed my legs around him, digging my heels into the ground to try to escape…to try and hold on. I wanted to feel this forever. I wanted this man forever.

  The thought was sobering, but I was too far gone. I exploded in a storm of conflicted desire and the bad omen of pain and neglect. My body shook, but Elias held me down and eased into me, groaning as the effects of my orgasm drew him in before he was ready to plunge. I clawed at his back, wrapped my legs around him and begged him again.

  “Please,” I rasped. “Fuck me, Elias.”

  He sank into me, until I could feel his pelvis against mine as he filled me, stretched me…he fucking completed me. I’d never imagined being so uncontrollably tied to someone, despite a confusing hatred for them, would make me feel so alive in a world where death dominated.

  “Trixie.”

  I wiped the sweat from his brow as he drove into me, unable to look away as his eyes connected with mine. In them I saw panic; I saw pain and confusion and the ability to love beyond all versions of love ever discovered. What I saw was a broken man; an ashamed man, a frightened man…a man who didn’t know his place in the world despite all the lessons he was about to give me, claiming to believe in them infinitely.

  I held on tight as my body climbed again, my heart raced, our moans and sighs collided into a symphony that would rival timeless pieces and I found myself. I found myself in this dark man who had shown me that maybe the darkness wasn’t the place to be afraid of.

  “Trixie.”

  I’d lost count of how many times Elias had woken me up now, but I wasn’t sure I would get tired of it. I was tired though; aching and lethargic and totally unwilling to move from where the grass tickled my backside and the sticky wetness between my legs reminded me what we’d done.

  I didn’t want to face the aftermath. I didn’t want Elias to be angry and blame me for seducing him. I didn’t want to take the blame for being the harlot he was conditioned to fuck.

  What had I done?

  “Trixie,” he called again and I waited, letting his words ring in my ears as I tried to anticipate his mood. “Miss Ashford, I know you’re awake and it’s most disrespectful to ignore a man.”

  Old-time Elias had returned. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to see the regret in his when he looked at my naked body. A hand in my hair jolted me to life and I finally opened my eyes as Elias’ nails scraped my scalp.

  “Perhaps this will persuade you to do as you’re told.”

  “I’m not a fucking toy. Get off me.”

  With a gentle smack to my cheek, Elias let me go and I sat up, curling my knees up to my body and edging away from him.

  “Watch your language.” He sighed, a hint of amusement in his eyes that told me this persona was forced. “We will have to train some decorum into you.”

  “Go for it, see how far that gets you.”

  I didn’t want to wake up arguing with him, but it was what we did. It was how we connected. It was how we avoided pouncing on each other, but still kept the spark alive…until he gave in again.

  “The sun is coming up.” He stood and I noticed he was dressed. I also noticed the flash of dominant pleasure in his eyes as he looked down on me, naked and vulnerable, while he had resumed position as the king. “You should get dressed before the gardener arrives. I’m not sure trimming bushes is on his schedule today.”

  “Fuck you,” I spat, standing up and pulling my pyjamas back on. “My bush is in perfect condition.”

  I could feel my skin heating with humiliation and I resisted the urge to have a feel and check. A real gentleman he was…I didn’t hear his complaining last night. He stepped towards me, placed his hand on the back of my head to hold me still, and slipped his other hand into my trousers. I convulsed, my muscles tensing as I waited to see what he’d do. He stroked slowly, with enough pressure to have me hyperaware of my sudden state of arousal, but gentle enough to keep the desperation at bay—for now.

  “That it is, Miss Ashford,” he hummed, circling my clit so slowly I thought I’d pass out. “You’re not feeling playful this morning?”

  “Vulnerable,” I confessed, gripping his shoulder when he applied a delicious pressure that threatened to buckle my knees. “And tired.”

  “Well…” he slipped his hand out and I resisted the urge to scream at him to just get me off, “then I shan’t keep you. Come on.”

  He took my hand, the hand that had just been in my knickers slipping into his pocket. I wasn’t sure he’d want to explain the violent smell of sex if we bumped into anyone on the way. Wait…

  “Where are my knickers?” I asked, turning around and trying to pull away as Elias led me along one of the paths of the maze.

  “I’ve decided to keep them as a souvenir.”

  “What? Why?”

  Elias paused, refusing to look at me, although I watched him. I watched his mouth twitch with the urge to smile in triumph.

  “Because I can.”

  Bastard.

  I felt almost human again after a shower and changing into clean clothes. I could still feel Elias between my legs; I could remember the way he moved inside me, how he held me with confidence that hadn’t turned into his relentless aggression. I remembered how he had opened the window into his soul as he looked into my eyes and thought he was safe to do so. He thought I wouldn’t notice. He thought I wouldn’t care to look, as long as I was getting my kicks. That wasn’t true. But the thought was unsettling. Had he been trained so rigorously, to the point where he didn’t believe his—our—family cared about him? I tried not to think about him trying to live up to a family name, yet ashamed of what he could add to it. I had a feeling he didn’t trust in GRIT as much as he claimed to.

  “What?” he asked, bringing me out of my daydream.

  I looked across the breakfast table at him, and pursed my lips. We were ten feet apart, he at one end and me at the other. The staff had provided breakfast, but I wasn’t hungry. I’d watched Elias put together his breakfast—muesli with berries, and two slices of toast—and I’d watched him read over the Business Times although I didn’t think he was really reading it; merely avoiding conversation with me after last night. And this morning. He’d touched me this morning, after we’d both fallen asleep on the floor of the maze and he had more than enough time while I was still sleeping to decide not to touch me again.

  “Nothing.” I shrugged and looked down at my toast, choosing to forgo food and enjoy a cup of coffee instead. “What are we doing today?”

  �
��I thought I’d continue your education.”

  “Really?”

  I wouldn’t admit it, but I’d hoped we’d spend the day in bed being real people. We could afford twenty-four hours, couldn’t we?

  “Yes. It’s why you’re here and I’ve got things to do when this is over.”

  “This?”

  “Yes. Your time on the estate.”

  I nodded and looked down at my coffee. I had butterflies in my stomach that were more like a stampede of rejection, and they made me feel sick. I couldn’t stomach food, and I couldn’t face drinking my coffee. Not when Elias was being cold and had reverted back to the man who made it clear he didn’t want me here. I was in the way. I was distracting him and he had better things to do than teach me about things he’d learnt as a child. I wished I’d been shown the same courtesy.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure he’d heard me; I didn’t think the weakness in my voice would have travelled to the other end of the table.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Where did the Elias from last night go?”

  He said nothing, sitting straight and staring directly at me with no emotion in his eyes. I thought we’d connected. I thought we’d made progress but we were right back to where we were when we first met, and my only defence was to shut him out like he had me.

  But that was before the door opened and a female stepped in, dressed in a washed-out blue dress with her hair tucked up in a lace bonnet. She bypassed Elias, not making eye contact, and stopped next to me, again avoiding eye contact.

  “Miss Ashford,” she said, keeping her gaze fixed on the opposite wall.

  “Yes?”

  She cleared her throat; it was then that I noticed the silver tray in her hand as she lowered it to offer me whatever was on the surface.

  “What’s this?”

  She didn’t answer my question, simply edging the tray a little closer, passing on the instruction she had obviously taken from the man sitting opposite me, hiding behind his newspaper again. I took the tablet and glass of water, and the maid disappeared far quicker than she had appeared, leaving the door of the dining hall to close slowly behind her.

  “Elias.”

  “It’s called Levonelle.”

  “The morning after pill?”

  He dipped his newspaper to nod his answer and then raised it again.

  “Are you kidding?”

  “You said you can read my personas…is this one likely to joke?”

  No. He wasn’t. He wanted me to take this pill. We’d had sex less than twelve hours ago and he was pushing this little white pill at me like I was some sort of floosy.

  “Elias, you cannot force me to take this.”

  “It only takes the once, Miss Ashford,” he said, folding the paper and setting it on the empty plate. “Take it or I will force you to take it.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  He sighed, his fingers twitching as he locked his hands together on top of the newspaper.

  “Now is not the time to challenge me. Take the tablet and we can get on with today’s lesson.”

  Sneaky bastard. Cowardly, arsehole bastard.

  “Bribery doesn’t suit you, Mr Blackwood.”

  “Naivety doesn’t suit you. Get on with it.”

  I shook my head and placed the tablet on my tongue. I didn’t do it because His Royal Highness had asked me to; I did it because a child was the last thing I needed and he was right to arrange it. He’d just done it the wrong way and a part of me hated him for going behind my back and ordering his fucking maid to do it.

  “It’s funny,” I said, sliding my chair back and standing without asking permission. “You’re man enough to fuck your cousin, but you can't be adult enough to discuss emergency contraception.” I tossed back the water, despite it making my stomach roil. I needed a little dramatic assistance. “I really thought you were more mature than that.”

  Elias raised one eyebrow and a crooked smirk danced across his lips, but he said nothing. Instead he stood from his chair and approached me with calculated steps. I winced when he grabbed my jaw and squeezed.

  “Open.” I clamped my teeth together and I knew he could feel it against his fingers. He squeezed until it hurt and my eyes stung with tears I refused to shed at his hands. “Open your fucking mouth, Trixie.”

  I did open my mouth—to chastise him for his language like he did me, but he shoved a finger in my mouth and held it open, dipping to inspect it. When he let me go, I stretched my jaw out.

  “You’re killing me.”

  “No. You’d know if I was. Now that you’ve been a good girl—with far more trouble than it should have taken—I’ll reward you with a lesson.”

  “Finally.”

  “Your mouth will get you in serious trouble one day.”

  “I hope so.”

  He may have been pretending he didn’t want me, that he regretted what had happened last night to the point where he refused to talk about it, but I’d tease him. I’d make our night together impossible to forget because I knew one of his personas had wanted it. One of his many personalities had been as desperate for it as I was, and had felt every single thing I did when our bodies were connected.

  “Go and get a warm jacket and put on a pair of shoes.”

  “Why?”

  Elias walked to the door of the dining hall and glanced over his shoulder at me, his dark eyes glistening with the sadistic pleasure I’d last seen when…

  “We’re returning to the dungeon.”

  I hated myself for what I’d done. It was a sin in itself to come—it was a rule; protect the family at all times, and I could only do that by disposing of all evidence of ejaculation. I was not supposed to lose control and shoot my load into a woman—especially an Ashford. The effects could be devastating and as much as I wanted to explain it to Trixie and make the decision together to stop conception from occurring, I had to take control. I had to force her into it. I didn’t have a choice.

  I’d watched her break in the dining hall. I’d watched her fall apart and try desperately to keep the pieces together until she was afforded some time alone. It was why I made her go and change for a trip to the dungeon again. I couldn’t promise that she wouldn’t end up naked again, but maybe if she added another layer and looked ready to embrace the Sector, I’d be able to resist taking her. I’d be able to keep my sinful thoughts at bay and respect her the way I should.

  “Ready?” I asked, when she stepped into the lobby, pulling her thick knitted cardigan around her.

  She had boots on too—the kind I wore when I had a heavy duty task to carry out below the foundations of Blackwood House.

  Trixie nodded. She didn’t want to talk to me. I’d screwed up again; I needed her to be with me and right now a million miles between us wouldn’t be enough to ease her mind.

  “I’ll make this as easy on you as you need.”

  “Just get it over with. May I take some personal time later?” she asked, resentment thick in her voice. “Maybe you’ll afford me an afternoon of compassionate leave.”

  I nodded. “As you wish.”

  “Then let’s get on with it.”

  I nodded again, took hold of her elbow and turned her to face me. She avoided eye contact, the whites of her eyes reddening as she remembered me holding her differently last night. I remembered it too and I ached to tell her that. But she needed this Elias to take her to the dungeon because she needed last night’s persona to lick her wounds when she was free.

  “Can I trust you, Trixie?” I asked, already regretting asking. I shouldn’t have put the question to her. She could deceive me and I had no doubt that she would. “Can I trust you to see the path to the dungeon and know you won't walk it alone?”

  She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what my answer is. You’ll do whatever you want anyway.”

  “Don’t be like this.”

  “Just put the blindfold on.”

  “Really?”


  She nodded. “Yes. That way you’ll have no reason to doubt me, no excuse to punish me, and no urge to follow me around the house afraid I’ll break your trust.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes to hide my reaction. She’d told me last night that she was in; that she was curious and hopeful, and that deep down she believed she was doing the right thing. Her choice to be blindfolded wasn’t for my benefit. She wanted to be able to pretend it didn’t exist if she couldn’t take herself back there.

  “Very well,” I said, taking the blindfold from my pocket. “Turn around.”

  She turned on her heel, not bothering to fight or ask to do it herself like she had yesterday. Maybe I was making a mistake. Maybe we should try again tomorrow. Maybe this was all a mistake and I could find a way to smuggle her out and get her to safety.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes,” she answered, locking her hands behind her back. “The quicker I can do this, the quicker I can get away from you.”

  “Okay, Miss Ashford. If that’s how you want to play.” I turned to find her handler. “Christen?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  Trixie stiffened when she heard the second male voice, her imagination running away with her as she waited blindly to find out what was going.

  “Please summon Mr Tate. Miss Ashford will need company and she has refused mine.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I didn’t want to do that. It killed me to have to give Trixie to Tate, knowing I didn’t trust his motives or feelings towards her. But she would need someone and I would take her and Tate together as my punishment for what I was about to do. Trixie opened her mouth to argue and I couldn’t ignore the thrill of excitement when I thought she would. But she didn’t. She closed her mouth again and nodded once. I chose to say nothing, refusing to stoke the flame or drive the wedge further between us. Last night was a mistake…or maybe this morning was a mistake. I didn’t know, but something had gone horribly wrong and I feared doing this would stop us from finding a way back.