by SE Reign
“Elijah …” It’s a warning, a sign I’m close to climaxing.
He pushes me away. “Not yet, farasha.”
I lower my leg, shaking, the dildo in my pussy and my legs ready to melt. As much as I love the sensations of the dildos, the sleeve may be my new favorite, and I can almost feel it rubbing my g-spot so hard, I come from the friction.
He looks me over in appreciation and takes my hips, turning my back to him. His hands drop, and I hear him squeeze out lube.
“Slowly,” he says and takes my hips again. He guides my body down to his, until I feel the tip of his dick at the opening of my anus. “Relax.”
Mild alarm goes through me at the thought of the sleeve in my ass. Elijah is huge as it is, and I’m not sure what exactly I’m in for.
I relax and trust him. The head of his penis penetrates my ass, and I hiss. He pauses, waiting for my body to adjust. The discomfort lessens as I relax more, and I slide down his dick.
The nubs of the sleeve make me shudder. The added sensation to an area already so sensitive …
“Elijah,” I whisper.
He releases my hips. “Fuck, yes! There are few things as incredible as my dick in your ass.”
I rest back against him, filled by his cock, my body one step closer to orgasm.
His fingers glide to my breasts then down my body, and he slides a fingertip around my clit until I’m gasping with the effort to control my climax.
“Good girl.” His lips move against my hair in a husky growl filled with need. “Control it.”
He flips on the vibrator and moves it hard against my G-spot, and I arch, struggling hard against the pleasure that wants to explode. With one hand dedicated to my clit, the other to the dildo and his dick in my ass, I’m seconds from either a release or passing out when he adds a new layer of pleasure.
His hips bounce me up and down, enough for the nubs of the sleeve to tickle and torment my ass as his dick moves in and out of me.
“EJ!” I almost scream.
He laughs in my ear. “I love this part. Beg me, farasha. Tell me the things you’ll let me do to you to let you come.”
“Oh, god! Anything!” I exclaim. Jesus, if he doesn’t let me come … with the relentless buzz and pressure of the dildo, the hard strokes of his fingers, the way his dick plunges in and out of my ass …
I was lost to this man the first day I met him.
“Good answer,” he says in approval. “On the count of three.”
I can’t wait that long!
“One.” He bounces me harder.
“Oh, god!”
“Two.” He slows the movement of the vibrator then rests it against my G-spot, the vibrations piercing through me. “Scream for me, farasha. Three.”
I do. Intense pleasure tears me apart from the inside out, as strong as it was the day we fucked in my apartment and I passed out. This feels so much more primal than usual, the pleasure and pain raw and powerful as it sweeps over me. I pant and buck.
“Good girl. On all fours.” Elijah is straining. He removes the dildo and rolls, driving us both to the floor without leaving my body. I rest against the couch, my body shaking too hard for me to control it. He takes my hands and spreads my arms wide across the cushions, his body riding against mine as and begins thrusting. My sensitive nipples scrape against the edge of the couch, sending tiny sensations of pleasure through me.
I’m trapped by his body and lost in the orgasmic waves still wracking my body, driving me closer to the dark edge of my mind. Elijah is pumping hard and fast, slamming into me, his moans growing louder the closer he gets to his release.
His broken cry comes at last, and he collapses on top of me again, his dick buried deep in my ass as he comes inside me.
“Can’t … get enough … of you,” he pants. He moves in and out of my ass a few more times before shuddering. “So tight. So wet. So fucking sexy.” His arms wrap around me, and he withdraws from my body.
I go with him as he turns me to face him. His mouth claims mine, his kiss demanding and hungry, as if he didn’t just fuck me hard. He tastes of my pussy and the spicy dinner, his warm lips rendering me breathless again within seconds.
He kisses my jaw, his hands roaming my body. “I don’t want to let you go.”
My eyes open. Did I just hear those words from him?
He squeezes a breast then rolls the peak between his fingers, his mouth returning to mine. Elijah pushes me onto my back and lies on top of me, settling between my legs. I haven’t recovered from the first round yet, but he’s clearly not about to stop with one fuck. His hot skin slides against mine, one hand shifting my hips more squarely beneath his while his other massages my breast.
“Touch me,” he orders.
I do, running my fingers through his hair before raking my nails down his back. His cock is hard against one of my thighs, my pussy aching for him again.
“As much as I love that fucking cunt of yours …” He trails off, pauses then shifts onto his knees. “On your belly.”
I roll onto my belly. Intertwining his fingers with mine, he pins my hands above my head and rests his weight on top of me. The carpet beneath me tickles my sensitive nipples and the skin of my lower belly.
Elijah nudges my knees a part more before I feel the tip of his dick at my ass again. I mentally prepare myself for the uncomfortable initial penetration.
He enters me fast and hard, and I gasp, my body arching involuntarily. He rides me like he’s possessed, the friction of our bodies causing the carpet to tug at my swollen clit and tease the skin of my nether lips. My orgasm boils quickly, my ass quaking under the nubs of the sleeve and his quick, deep strokes.
“Now, farasha,” he commands breathlessly.
When I climax, it’s hard enough to hurt, slamming into me with such force, I start to sink into unconsciousness. He keeps pumping like a madman, and my seizing body goes limp, my ragged breathing filling my ears.
Elijah’s second cry of release is a deep-bellied bellow, and he pushes into me again before collapsing on top of me. He’s shaking, sweaty and panting while I’m struggling not to faint.
I can usually go a few rounds like this with him. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me today. I just feel exhausted.
“Natalie?” he whispers.
“Yeah.”
Withdrawing from my body, he shifts off me and rolls me onto my back, gazing down at me with a flicker of concern in his eyes.
I smile wanly at him, uncertain why I’m not quite myself.
“We have a safe word for a reason,” he reminds me, pushing hair from my face. He presses a kiss to my nose.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Just been a long day.”
He frowns, his hand absently trailing down my body to settle between my legs, where he pushes a finger into my pussy. He removes it and sticks it in his mouth with a satisfied smile, sucking my juices free.
“You shouldn’t worry about letting me go,” I say, unable to forget the words he said. “We’re going to try this out, remember?”
The warm pleasure in his gaze vanishes. Elijah’s eyes sweeps down my body slowly, as if he’s trying to memorize every detail of my body.
Then he stands and walks away.
I roll onto my side, not quite yet up to testing my legs. The firm globes of his ass and his lean thighs make me warm from the inside out with desire.
He runs his hand through his hair and pauses before the hearth with a blazing fire.
Something’s wrong. I force myself up, rest on my knees for a minute then sit on the couch. My stomach is sinking, filled with dread.
“EJ?”
He swipes his pants off the floor and puts them on jerkily before returning to the fire. I stretch forward and grab his sweater, tugging it on.
“Natalie,” he starts finally. The muscles in his jaw are ticking, and his expression is stormy. “You belong on a pedestal, under a glass dome, away from someone like me.”
This isn’t good.
<
br /> “I’ve never had anyone like you in my life nor understood the appeal. Someone who gives you the benefit of the doubt, who sees something good when you know you’re rotten to the core. I was raised in an environment even a saint couldn’t emerge from and see the world as a good place,” he says, frustration clear. “You are too … good to be here. And yes, you’re right. I break everyone who enters my life, and I will break you, too. Not purposely, but because that’s who I am.”
There’s a lump forming in my throat that’s too big for me to swallow. My body trembles from our fucking, my blood still humming and senses saturated with him. Across the room, he’s too far away to satisfy my need to be near him.
“I like being with you, Natalie. I like that you are the way you are. I don’t like that you’re involved with me. I hate knowing I’ll hurt you.” He faces me, neither remorseful nor triumphant or sad. Just … resolved. “I told myself for a while it didn’t matter. I planned on giving you this apartment when we were over. You could sell it and be set for life, you and your entire family and friends. But the more I know you, the more I realize that you won’t take it and it definitely wouldn’t make you see me in a better light if I offered.”
I glance around, seeing the apartment and his finishing touches anew. He’s serious; he may have bought the place for him, but he tailored it towards me. An obscene farewell present to this obscene façade of a relationship.
What he’s said before this admittance hits me then, and I realize he’s telling me in his own way he has feelings for me, emotions he doesn’t want but emotions nonetheless. His question about me seeing the good in him makes more sense. I suspect not many people in his life make him feel.
Except he doesn’t want to feel for anyone. He doesn’t want to change; I can read it on his face.
Where this is coming from, I don’t know. It seems rather sudden. Before dinner, we were going to give this relationship a try. Now, we’re back to where we’ve been – in a dangerous dance of emotions neither of us wants to acknowledge.
“You’re right. You can’t buy me,” I whisper then ask carefully. “Did something happen?” Was the phone call he took more than a business matter? Or does this have something to do with his sudden trip tomorrow?
“Call it a guilty conscience. I have to make a choice. Like you said, if it’s something important to me, it won’t be easy. I know you don’t think I respect you, Natalie, but I have from the first day. You’re brave, good and beautiful. You relate to people because you’re compassionate. You make a difference – a positive one – wherever you go. It would be an honor for you to become my queen.”
I listen, eyes on the floor. His words are achingly sweet, but I can’t help thinking they sound like a break-up speech, the it’s-not-me-it’s-you kind. I’m trying not to let what he’s saying affect me. It’s hard, because I’ve wanted him to say something like this from the beginning.
“I found out at dinner that my father issued a private decree,” his voice is a whisper. “If I don’t produce an heir within the year, I lose the throne.”
My eyes fly up.
“I’m pretty sure I know this answer after today, but I wanted to ask.” Elijah is gazing at me. “Would you consider it?”
I know the answer as well, but I’m more struck by the fact he did ask. The man who wouldn’t let me pick out my clothes a day ago is giving me a choice about something that means the throne to him. I’m almost proud of him – and even prouder of myself for standing up to him earlier. If I hadn’t, would he have done this or would my birth control pills just disappear?
I suspect he’s been grappling with this issue for longer than a few hours. He admitted to considering knocking me up, yet he’s had a month and hasn’t done it. Something stopped him, the same thing that made him want to take a chance on a real relationship with his American Cinderella earlier.
“No,” I whisper. “I won’t, Elijah. I can’t and won’t bring a child into this arrangement of ours.”
He nods, not surprised by my response.
“I understand that means you’ll need to replace me by someone who will.” The tremor in my voice bothers me too much. My heart feels like it’s being crushed in my chest. “I respect that. I don’t need the apartment as a bribe to keep quiet about what’s happened or anything else. Just follow through with your promise about Tenley Block. It’s all I ask of you.”
“Ask me for more,” he says in a hushed tone.
There’s a part of me that wants to refuse him, because I know the request is to sooth his hurt rather than mine. Like he says, I’m too nice to act on my anger.
“My jeans,” I say with a forced laugh. “I love the clothes.”
“You can take them all.”
I nod.
He runs his hand through his hair. “I’m going to talk to Malika first about the legality of all this. Wait until the end of my trip to move out. I’ve sworn never to have children. I don’t want this either.” A shadow crosses his features.
“Because of your past?” I venture.
He nods curtly. “My father has an illness. One I don’t plan on passing down to anyone.”
“Like cancer?”
“No. Mental disease. He hurts people.”
My heart stops. What on earth is he talking about? How can hurting people be hereditary?
“If there is a way out of this, Malika will know it,” he continues, the dark moment gone. “Might cost me my absolute kingship, but I never want children.”
“Okay,” I say with calmness I don’t feel. “Where does that leave us?” I hold my breath and wait. The edges of my delicate world are cracking.
“I’ll know when I’m back from my trip. Natalie…” He approaches me, kneels and takes my hands. “I want you to stay.”
I can’t look at him. I’m doing my best to cover how hurt I am right now. “Unless it costs you the throne.”
“I will do what I can to figure out a way around this,” he says. “I want that chance with you. Stay with me until I know for sure?”
I shouldn’t. If I have an ounce of self-respect, I’ll walk away and tell him I’ll never be a backup plan or second rung to anything. But this isn’t a normal man, not a normal relationship. He’s giving me more than I thought possible of him: he’s looking for a way to keep me and the throne, at least for now. He’s not making a choice that I suspect used to be easy for him.
If there’s no way out of his father’s decree, then I’m on the street.
But if there is, and I walk away from something that’s been pulling at me in so many different ways the past month …
“Yes,” I murmur, chin trembling. “I’ll stay, Elijah. Because you asked me to.”
“Thank you.” The spark of warmth returns to his gaze, even if his expression remains hard.
He’s right. I’m too good of a person. I’m a sucker, a fool … only now do I realize how fully I’ve failed to keep my emotions out of this situation. Unable to commit myself fully to us, neither can I walk away.
Today has left me beyond drained. I feel sick. I’m starting to hate me and the unhealthy obsession I have with this man and relationship.
“I’m going to lay down,” I say and rise.
“I’ve got to talk to Malika. I might be in late then will be leaving early.”
“Okay. I need to go clean out the fridge of my old … my apartment tomorrow morning before the charity meeting,” I respond. “I guess the smell is running people out of the building.”
“Coordinate with security.”
I nod and turn away. My legs are shaky from the hard fucking, and I can think of nothing I want more than another bath. I walk into the hallway and am halfway to the bedroom when the tears start.
What is wrong with me? I’ve always known this would happen. I should be grateful it’s now and not after two more months, when I might feel twice as much for him as I do now.
Of all the things going through my mind, I can’t get his comment about his father�
��s disease out of my mind. What did he mean by it? What horrible events did he go through as a child?
Does this explain all the car accidents listed as official deaths for at least seven members of his family? How can he think murder is hereditary?
I don’t know how I can be thinking about car accidents when my heart feels like it’s shattering.
Chapter Eight: Elijah
I look in once on Natalie and the cat before I leave for the private concourse of the JFK airport, where one of my jets is being fueled for the trip to Ohio. I can’t bring myself to walk into the bedroom. I’m too disturbed by the pain I saw in her eyes.
If I were her, I’d leave while I was away on my trip. I wouldn’t blame her if she took the clothes and ran. I fully expect her to be gone by the time I get back.
No stranger to pain, I’m unfamiliar with this kind of hurt and its intensity. It’s almost crippling, like my insides are physically being twisted and put through a sausage grinder.
Instead of staying, I head to the airport a few hours early and sleep in the king-sized bed in the back of the private jet. My dreams aren’t good – of raising a child as fucked up as I am. I wake up and shower just before six, when the plane is scheduled to take off.
My mind is restless again, the way it was before I met Natalie. My thoughts race and my emotions are in the way.
I hate that.
Even knowing she’d say no to the proposal, I can’t help feeling … disappointed. She’s serious about not wanting more to do with me than what we bargained for. Not that I blame her, but I guess I hoped … I don’t know. That maybe some part of her wanted to stay enough to do this with me.
It’s better this way. I know this. The ideal situation is that I can convince my father not to require an heir. The mere thought of children makes me almost sick. I don’t see that changing for any reason.
I’ll do whatever it takes, even if it does tear me up. Natalie said no, and I am disappointed but also relieved. I’d rather break her, free her and give her a chance to heal. It’s better than permanently ruining the part of her that gave me a sliver of hope, however small, that I, too, had a chance at something more, something beautiful.