Elias (GRIT Sector 1)

by Rebecca Sherwin

  "For entirely different reasons."

  "What do you expect? That you can run off into the sunset with the Ashford?" When I didn't answer him he continued, "It is what it is, and you know what has to be done. This is a sure fire way of ensuring Trixie's mission is accomplished."

  I slumped into the chair, sitting up straight when Ambrose cleared his throat to remind me where I was. He'd offered me a weapon; it wasn't anything I could use to inflict physical pain, but I had no doubt it would be welcomed over the mental pain it was guaranteed to cause.

  "Why this? We can't we give her more time?"

  "She's had six weeks. How much more time do you think she needs?"

  "She's strong-"

  "No. She's weak. If she were strong—if she were the woman you claim she is, the job would be done and she would be in training."

  That was the problem. Trixie refused to kill the man who murdered her parents because as long as she had her innocence, she had something to cling on to. She had some hope that this was just a dream. I didn't want her to kill him, no matter how much I pushed and threatened, because once she had it would be time for the next step. She would undergo the training regime I'd been through, and I refused to believe it was the life a woman—my woman—should live. She shouldn't be taught how to wield a gun. She shouldn't graze her knuckles through combat and use her bare hands to choke a man. She shouldn't be educated in how to shut off the thing that made me love her above all else...her mind.

  "Elias." Ambrose's voice was cold when he stood up, preparing to dismiss me. "If you don't do what must be done, I'll be forced to take responsibility...and I won't fail."

  He slid the weapon across the desk and tapped it with his fingertips. Shaking my head, I turned and walked away.

  My entire life I'd believed we were doing the right thing. I'd believed that we did the wrong things for the right reasons, but what if we'd lost our way? What if we were doing the wrong things for the wrong reasons? I had to find a way back before it was too late. I had to make Trixie queen and we had to figure this out together.

  GRIT thrived when there was crime on the streets. How else would we live the life we did, in riches when we'd once been in rags? Crime, controlling it and ensuring it continued, was the only way we'd ensure our survival. We had evolved, from noblemen to criminals, and it was time to find a way back to the vigilantes who were heroes of the city, with a strong woman on the throne.

  "Shouldn't we be getting back?" I asked as we walked along the canal. "The sun is beginning to set."

  We'd spent the day touring the city. We'd been to St Paul's Cathedral, we'd taken a ride on the London Eye to see the city at its finest; we'd eaten and drank, and walked and talked, and slipped into a comfort that almost made me forget the world we lived in.

  "I can call a car whenever you're ready."

  "I'd like to go home now."

  "Home?"

  "To the estate." When William didn't reply, I confirmed. "Blackwood Estate."

  Blackwood Estate was my home. Elias was my home and no matter how far the emotional distance between us, I needed the physical closeness to feel safe and where I belonged.

  "As you wish, Miss Ashford."

  William took his phone out of his pocket and called for the car to come and pick us up.

  Elias had lent us Percy and it was a relief to see a familiar face when I'd been surrounded by strangers all day. He tipped his hat in greeting and opened my door, allowing me to slide into the back as William rounded to the other side. When Percy was in the driver's seat, he pulled away from the kerb and we drive away from the canal, where the sun dipped low behind the high rises and ancient architecture.

  A journey that normally took thirty minutes seemed to take forever as we headed east, into the darkness, inviting it to swallow us.

  "Percy..."

  The driver raised his hand to silence William before he could say anymore, and the car crawled to a stop. It was dark—too dark. We were exposed and they'd found us.

  "William," I whispered, looking around the car for signs of life outside in the dark. "William, what's going on?"

  "Shh…"

  When his hand cupped my knee, I froze. When the engine died, I gasped. When William squeezed and Percy switched the headlights off, I thought of Elias. William shouldn't have had his hands on me; it shouldn't have bothered me so much that he did. It shouldn't have made me recoil and want to run, but he shouldn't have touched me. I missed Elias. Whatever was going on between us, and whatever was about to happen here, I wished I was with him and not here. In the dark. With two strangers. And no protection.

  "William."

  "Stay quiet, Trixie."

  I did, swallowing my fear and hoping Percy was overreacting.

  But that was before. Before I could regret being out at night. Before I could worry about how we would get home. Before I could despair over never seeing Elias again.

  Before they got to us.

  The handle clicked and I turned to see a masked man wrench my door open, as another tore William's open and a third reached in for Percy. The car was left idle in the road as we were yanked from it, two large hands in my hair, my hips burning as the seatbelt came away with the force of whoever was taking me. I cried out before a hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged further away from the car. I saw William struggling against two men, and Percy was backing up to the wall with two more stalking him. Where had they come from? Why had Percy stopped? Why couldn't William protect me if he was part of this force who dominated the underground?

  Why the fuck, if my family were so mighty and our ancestors granted us the power to stop this, couldn't we stop it?

  I fought against hands that held me in a death-grip. I kicked out and reached behind me for leverage. I screamed. As long as there was air in my lungs I would fight this. My eyes widened when William received a blow to the stomach and I glanced at Percy, praying they'd spare the old man. They hadn't touched him yet, and I vowed to fight to protect him too. This felt personal. The rage that William suffered, the taunting Percy underwent, and the power of the force that held me, told me we weren't random victims. We'd been targeted. Percy had allowed it. How could he think we'd be safe when he killed the engine if he already knew they'd found us? The car shrunk the further away I was pulled, and the commotion on the other side of the car became obscured and difficult to follow. I held on tight, refusing to back down. If they killed me, I'd make damn sure they'd remember me until GRIT found them. If they found them. I was beginning to think we weren't all that powerful at all.

  I bit down on the hand that stopped me from releasing the wail that wanted to tear from me with what I had left in my lungs. He growled, sending goosebumps of fear to cascade over my body, but his hand slid to my throat and constricted my breath.

  "Please," I begged, hoping feminine pleas would save me. "Please, let them go."

  My captor said nothing, spinning me round roughly and shoving me against the wall. I felt a hard body, shaking with anger and whatever fuelled the underground's resentment against me and I continued to struggle. I writhed against the wall until the brickwork scratched my skin. I fought back until I began to perspire and fight for breath. I spluttered past the chokehold that muted me and I drew in a strangled breath.

  "Please," I said one final time as the world began to cave in around me with black spots in my vision.

  "Not so strong now, are we, Ashford?" The voice said.

  A voice I knew well. A voice who had growled my name in pleasure and whispered it in shared pain. A voice that had asked me to kill a man every time we'd seen each other for the past however many weeks.

  "Elias."

  "Hush, little princess," he whispered. "Don't you cry."

  "Are you going to sing me a fucking lullaby?" I choked.

  The goosebumps turned to boulders when Elias chuckled and ran his free hand up my thigh.

  "Quite the Tallulah, aren't you, Ashford?"

  "Fuck you." When he relea
sed his hold on my neck, I coughed. "What does that mean?"

  "I bet you'd like that. Should I call Tate over to join us?"

  Tallulah. The harlot who had taken three men and conceived a child who was not Eli Blackwood's.

  "You're crazy."

  "I'm not the one out at night, riding in cars with dangerous men."

  "What's this about?"

  He dragged me sideways then, scraping me against the wall until I felt the skin on my cheek graze.

  There was no wall to the side of us and Elias dragged me into the next street. I stumbled under his brisk pace, struggling to keep up as he pulled me to the next destination. He stopped suddenly, shoving my back against another wall before his mouth crashed to mine and his hand hiked my leg up to his waist. I moaned against his lips, swallowing his anger and primitive lust that forced its way into my lungs. I pushed against his chest, trying to earn some breathing space, but he was intent on stealing my breath away.

  "I didn't do anything," I said when he finally freed me and swiped my swollen lips with his thumb. His erection ground into me and I crashed my head back against the wall.

  "Doesn't mean you weren't thinking about it."

  "Is that what this is?" I asked, the venom pouring from my voice laced with resent. "A surprise attack and a jealousy fuck?"

  "I don't do jealousy, Ashford."

  "Could have fooled me."

  "Was that your plan, harlot? Try to make me jealous, fail in your attempts and try to claim innocence when I call you out?"

  "No." I stood my ground and shoved at him again. "There's nothing to be jealous of. William was following your orders."

  Elias leaned in, his teeth nipping my ear before he growled.

  "William kidnapped you. He didn't have my permission to take you."

  "He doesn't need it. I went willingly. I'm not a possession."

  "That's where you're wrong, Ashford," he spat, pulling my leg tight around him as he stole my breath with a roll of his hips. "You're mine. You're my possession." His tongue trailed leisurely along my jaw, paralysing my attempts to push him away. "Do you know what happens to thieves, Trixie?"

  I swallowed hard. "They're punished."

  "Right. Good girl," he said with a slap to my cheek. "They're tortured, their maimed bodies cast out onto the street to teach others a lesson. Perhaps I should punish William for taking you from me..." His hand dipped beneath my summer dress, sliding my underwear to the side to tease me with the pad of his finger. "Perhaps I should use him to show every man in this fucking city that you. Are. Mine."

  "No."

  "Fond of him, are we?" he hummed. "Is that why you're so wet?"

  As if proving his point, he drove his finger into me torturously slowly. I moaned.

  "I'm wet for you," I groaned. "Don't play me."

  "Oh, but I like to play you, Ashford." A second finger joined the first. My core tightened. My legs quivered. My heart hammered in my chest. "Cheating spouses are subjected to the same punishment as thieves."

  "You're going to torture me?"

  "Oh yes. I'm going to play you like a fucking piano. When I'm done with you, you'll have no idea where you are, what year you're living in, or what your fucking name is."

  I cried out as his warm, smooth voice travelled to my core, coating his fingers with slick heat. He didn't need to fuck me into oblivion. He could make me come from his words, his voice so authoritarian and dominant, at a timbre that resonated through my entire being like he owned it. I was his possession. I would willingly offer myself to him and beg him to make me forget.

  Elias slipped his fingers out of me and sucked on them, my eyes transfixed on his. The black diamonds of his eyes concealed his lies, and for a minute I would let myself fall under his spell. I would step into his trap. I would let him right the world again with those fucking eyes that hid centuries of secrets I was yet to uncover. He grabbed the back of my neck and shoved me into the doorway next to us, pinning me to the glass door with his hips as he punched a code into the keypad. The speaker buzzed, the lock clicked open and Elias bundled me inside with his lips on my lips, his hands gripping mine, his hips backing me up until we reached another door.

  I shoved her into the apartment, the empty blackness inside swallowing us whole and giving us somewhere to call home for the night. Trixie tugged her hands out of my grasp and fisted them in my hair as she let me guide her through the entrance and to the living room. She didn't have a choice. I was taking her tonight. I would take her again and again, until she forgot William Tate even existed. She was right; she'd read me like a damn book and she knew I was jealous. She knew I'd wanted to do all the things he stole from me today and she knew I was wounded. Livid. Seething. So jealous the green meshed with the red from the anger of his betrayal until it clouded my vision, made me sick with confusion and fuelled my desire to fuck her. And I would. Her knees hit the arm of the sofa and a cloud of dust whooshed up when I tossed her onto it and covered her body with mine.

  "Where are we?" she asked, the spell of lust making her eyes sparkle and her voice drop to a cock-stirring rasp.

  "My place."

  "This isn't your place." She shook her head. "Where are we?"

  "My place."

  Why did she want to talk now? I just wanted her to shut up and let me take her. Now wasn't the time for explanations, conversations, and questions she wouldn't like the answers to.

  "You're impossible."

  "So you keep saying."

  I stepped between her legs, yanked her hips so her crotch collided with mine, and slid her dress up her legs. The cotton covering her modesty was thin, warm and wet, and met my erection proudly, coaxing it to prepare for showtime.

  "You're wearing jeans," she breathed.

  "Is that a crime?"

  I leaned over her, resting my hands either side of her head and glaring down into her eyes.

  "No. I just thought you'd be in uniform."

  "Uniform?" I cocked a brow. She'd noticed.

  "You wear black all the time." Her hips raised to stroke my cock and I snagged my bottom lip between my teeth. "Take the mask off, Elias."

  I shook my head.

  "You ever heard the saying that the clothes you choose to wear match your soul? And no, I'm keeping it on."

  "Ah, you think you've got a black soul." She laughed like it was a joke. Like I was a joke. I cut her giggles short by cupping her pussy, palming her clit with the heel of my hand and using her underwear for friction. "Stop it." I shook my head again, pressing deeper, stroking harder. "You think that mask protects you from me?"

  "Why would I need protecting from you?" I retorted.

  Bitch. Beautiful, impossible bitch. I knew she could read me as if my mind were scrawled on the pages of her soul. I didn't want her to know me; I didn't want her to know why I hid myself from her, and what it was I kept a secret.

  "Because I know you, Elias Blackwood. I was made for you and I know you as well as you know me."

  "I don't know you. I know your body." Using both hands I ripped her underwear away, watching it fall to the dusty floor. "Your soul is of no relevance. I love getting you off and I know exactly how to do it."

  My mind travelled back to the barn, the day Trixie Ashford has lost control and gushed for me. I remembered the way her legs quivered, her core trembled, her clit pulsed against my palm and her eyes rolled back as she let go. As if on instinct, I slipped two fingers into her, hooked them against her swollen G-spot and met her eyes with mine as fear flashed in the galaxy she possessed. She shook her head. I licked my lips and nodded. I applied pressure, I dragged her hips up and I shoved her back into the arm. Trixie's breaths came in short pants, her moans were hoarse and strangled. Her hands gripped my forearm and dug her nails into the flesh. I watched in the darkness as sweat began to collect on her brow and sparkle in the moonlight. One hand dipped lower and she pulled my zip down with a harsh growl and my cock needed no invitation to spring free. She grabbed me in a death grip and I h
issed through my teeth, the urgency to make her come mounting until I was ordering her to let go.

  "No."

  "Come, Trixie. Squirt for me, baby."

  She continued to refuse, but unlike murder, she had no control here. She would come. She would spray me with her delicious juice and I'd swallow every drop. I could feel it building; I could feel her walls tighten around me as her cries became more frantic and her legs took on a juddering spasm. Her pussy became wetter, the sound of sopping flesh accompanying her desperate pleas as she tugged on my cock with suffocating pressure. My free hand took hers, forcing it to her lower stomach to apply pressure.

  "Eli..."

  I didn't know if the overwhelming pleasure had cut off the other half of my name, or if she'd escaped to the past with me where this had happened multiple times. I didn't care. My cock wept for her to say it again. For her to scream it like it was the only name she'd ever heard. And then came the flood. She sprang free, forcing my fingers from her as hot liquid sprayed from her pussy and I dropped to my knees, squeezing her hips to control her writhing as I covered her with my mouth and sucked. I drank from her like Jesus had turned water into Trixie's intoxicating cum. She shuddered and shivered, she flexed and relaxed, she gripped my head and tried to push and pull at once. I kept her on edge, kept her orgasm coming, tearing through her until she begged me to stop. Multiple orgasm was a skill Trixie had to learn, and what better time to teach her than now? I kept my mouth on her, sucking on her clit and lapping at her swollen lips, easing two fingers inside her, in and out in a fluid, unrelenting rhythm.

  "God, I can't." She shook uncontrollably. She sucked in one sharp breath after another, her body fighting the reaction I'd force her to embrace. "Stop!"

  Without warning another orgasm ripped through her and she arched her back, reaching her feet to the ground to propel herself off. I caught her and we bundled backwards in a wet, frantic tangle. She shifted to straddle me, her hands in my hair, her mouth crashing to mine as her chest heaved and she sucked my bottom lip into her mouth.