Elah's Plaything

by Lydia Rowan

  That night, seeing him so raw, so unrestrained, had unleashed something inside her, turned that want and desire that had always been there into a scorching passion that threatened to consume her. She’d been needy, edgy, wanting another taste of his raw, dominant lovemaking. And that was what it had been. Elah’s words had been crass, intended to shock and scare her, push her away, but she’d seen through them. He’d let loose some of his tightly reined control, shown her a glimpse of the passion, of the man underneath the facade. And most of all, he’d given her hope that maybe this was a first step to building something real, that maybe the physical attraction that had arced between them since that first day could be a brick in the foundation of a relationship beyond the vengeance and hatred that had spawned their marriage.

  Now she worried that her actions had backfired. He’d been a perfect gentleman. Perfect. Not a single harsh word or snide remark; no heated glances or passionate kisses, either. No, he’d treated her with the cold reserve that one would use for a distant business colleague. She was furious. And so turned on that she was this close to begging for it.

  She put down her spoon, her appetite having left her and tried to suppress a sigh of frustration.

  “Something wrong, Charlotte?” he asked without looking up.

  “Like you care,” she whispered.

  “I couldn’t quite hear you. What did you say?” he asked, still not looking up, his tone flat like he was discussing the weather or making small talk, which he did not do.

  He’d damn well heard her, so she didn’t repeat herself.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “You’re not yourself. You seem a little…frustrated.” He looked up, his face placid but his eyes burning a black fire that had her wet and ready in an instant.

  “And why would I be frustrated, Elah?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a teasing, knowing smile that lit his entire face. “You expected one thing, you got another. You don’t like it.”

  “What does that mean?” she said, not bothering to mask the annoyance in her tone.

  He shrugged. “After your little display the other day, you expected me to be all over you. Hoped for it, didn’t you?”

  “And if I did? What’s wrong with that?”

  “I’ll admit the idea of my sweet Charlotte so desperate for me that she can’t sit still is appealing.” She stopped squirming, something she hadn’t even been aware she was doing before he’d spoken. “But like I said”—he stood and walked toward her—“I decide. I’m in control.”

  He stopped in front of her, and she couldn’t help but notice the prominent bulge of his erection through his immaculately pressed pants.

  “Look at me, Charlotte.”

  Her gaze darted to his before she’d even fully processed the command.

  “On your knees.”

  Down she went.

  “Suck my cock,” he said, his voice hard-edged and uncompromising.

  She licked her lips nervously, suddenly aware of the morning sunshine flowing into the room, aware that she was on her knees in the kitchen about to suck off a man who, when he wasn’t being kind, alternately hated or ignored her. And hating herself for being so turned on by the thought.

  The weight of his gaze was like a tangible caress, and to add to the mix of emotion coursing through her, she was afraid of what she’d see in it if she looked up. Would he be mocking, triumphant, both?

  “Charlotte.”

  At his word, she reached for his belt. Fingers trembling, she worked the buckle and leather strap.

  “Look at me,” he said, and again she found herself complying, her hand stilled in midair.

  “None of that now. You don’t get to play the shy virgin when it suits you. You wanted me. Here I am. Now suck my cock and don’t look away.”

  She reached forward again but kept looking up at him as he’d commanded. His gaze had gone hard, unreadable, and she felt the heat of embarrassment rush over her. It took everything inside her not to look away, but she wouldn’t give in, prove herself weak like he believed her to be. Before she’d fully opened his pants, she felt the heat of his skin and almost moaned. After two tries, she was able to maneuver his engorged flesh from his underwear and she cursed her inexperience. No doubt he was accustomed to beautiful women who acted with practiced confidence, not her clumsy fumbling.

  But there was nothing to be done about it, so she focused on her task. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his long length, but rather than staring at his exposed flesh as she so wanted to, she held his gaze, hoping to see something, anything, in it. She wrapped one hand around his base to hold him steady and then leaned in to close her lips around his crown. The first time, she hadn’t had much of a chance to experience him in her mouth, but now, she took the opportunity to explore, tightening her lips around the spongy flesh and swiping her tongue around his opening.

  He exhaled, and she felt a profound sense of pride that he wasn’t entirely unaffected. She opened wider, slid more of his flesh inside, welcoming his musky, male taste, enjoying the glide of her tongue across his thick shaft. Feeling bold now, she tried to take more of him, let the head of his cock hit the back of her throat. She almost gagged at the foreign sensation, but the sight of him finally betraying some emotion, jaw clenched tight as if he struggled to maintain control, calmed her. For him, she could do this.

  Working her head back and forth, eyes still on his, she swirled her tongue over his flesh, only pausing for a moment when the ache in her jaw became too much. When she paused, he caressed her cheek, brought his other hand up to do the same. And then he rocked his hips. Gently, ever so gently, barely moving millimeters when he did. Even his gentle invasion was almost too much and, mouth full of precum and her own saliva, she couldn’t resist the impulse to swallow.

  He released the tiniest moan, which he cut off immediately, but rocked his hips again, this time more urgently, and she felt herself open for him, let him slide a bit deeper on each thrust.

  A moment later, her mouth was empty. He turned his back to her as he grabbed a napkin off the table and spilled himself into it. She was oddly bereft, had been anticipating feeling his cum slide down her throat and was upset at being denied. Hard shivers racked his hulking frame and he kept his back turned to her for several long moments, the spiderweb of connection that had been spinning between them effectively severed.

  In that moment, she again became acutely aware of the pain in her knees, the hollow ache inside her that only he could fill. She stood before he could turn, trying to compose herself before she faced him again. He fumbled with his clothing and when he turned to look at her, he was the same distant, imposing figure she’d fought so hard to prove a fraud.

  He reached up, traced a finger across her lips and then gave her the softest, sweetest kiss. “Have a nice day, Charlotte.”

  Then he was gone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The drive to work was a blur as Elah replayed this morning again and again. Charlotte’s desire had poured from her in waves and called to him like a beacon, like it had for days. But something about this morning had broken his resolve, and he hadn’t been able to resist a small taste of her passion. But rather than slake his need, this morning had only made him want her more. Even now, so soon after his release, he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her again, to figure out if that explosive first encounter had been a fluke. Somehow, he knew it wouldn’t be, and that corner of his mind that he’d thought he’d left in the rubble of his childhood whispered to him now.

  And told him he was afraid.

  It seemed ridiculous; he wasn’t afraid of anything, certainly not some woman who’d grown up the pampered, spoiled offspring of his hated enemy. Or at least that was what he wanted to think. But just as a small part of him whispered he was afraid, another part accepted that truth. Rather than pampered and spoiled, she’d been loved and cherished. And in addition to being the offspring of his hated enemy, she was the woman, the only o
ne he’d met in his life, who might put his heart at risk.

  And that terrified him.

  So he tried to hold back; that was part of the reason he hadn’t touched her again until this morning. Every smile, every glance, every moment with her, he felt himself falling a little bit more. And that couldn’t happen. Not until he got his justice.

  After he parked, rather than head straight to his office as usual, he decided to walk through the promenade. This place, what it used to be, was what he needed to remember. It was so different than it had been all those years ago, but he could clearly see his father’s shop, the nursery out back, the other businesses that had surrounded it, all of it wiped away in minutes. This was what he needed to remember.

  Feeling calmer and resolved to stay focused, he headed into the office to begin his day. Amanda’s replacement was far inferior, but he tried to work with the man, give him leeway to learn what his new boss demanded. Charlotte would have been proud of his patience. The significance of that thought, the very fact that it had crossed his mind wasn’t lost on him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed it aside, refused to give it any more power.

  It had been futile. He stayed away all day, tried to squelch thoughts of her, but they had been there, haunting him like a specter. He’d replayed the image in his mind, her on her knees, her lips stretched around his cock as she took him in with the exuberance and gusto with which she approached everything. All of his previous lovers had been smooth, experienced, but her lack of skill was more than eclipsed by her enthusiasm for the task, and despite his wish to keep his distance, he couldn’t. His desire for her was too great.

  Evening passed into night and around eleven, he finally gave in to the need to see her. The house was quiet when he entered, the living room and kitchen dark save for the lights in hallway. He’d lived in this house for years, but it felt strange now, absent of life without her flitting from place to place. He felt a pang in his chest that felt too much like longing. He quickly smothered it as he loped up the stairs.

  One of the bedroom double doors was ajar, and the room was softly lit by her bedside lamp. He walked in and saw her resting on her side of the bed.

  Her side.

  The thought had sprung naturally, and he was realizing how right it felt, how right she felt, on her side of his bed. His heart stuttered as the thought settled. He could admit that he did like the sight of her there, liked waking up to her in the morning, holding her at night. But it didn’t mean anything, he reminded himself. He’d been without companionship for a long time, had never had it really, and Charlotte was so very different than anyone he’d ever known. Of course he’d be intrigued. And of course he’d enjoy making love, no—being intimate with her. It was only natural. It didn’t mean anything else.

  Discarding his tie and shirt on the floor as he walked, he stood shirtless in front of his dresser and removed his watch and emptied his pockets.

  “Charlotte, you didn’t have to wait up for me,” he said.

  “I’m sleeping, Elah. I can’t hear you,” she said, her voice muffled by the covers.

  He smiled in spite of himself and glanced into the mirror, watching as she pulled the covers from over her head and sat up. Her gaze fell to his shirt and tie on the floor, and she grimaced and jumped up, her simple cotton nightgown falling to midthigh, baring the long length of her legs, and walked to the clothing and gathered it as she headed toward the closet. As she walked by him, she watched him intently, her gaze like a touch across his abdomen.

  This morning had been unplanned, but he hadn’t been able to resist and during the hazy mix of thoughts that had bombarded him during the day, he’d felt a twinge of guilt at leaving her unsatisfied. But if the open appreciation and naked desire in her gaze was the reaction, he’d do so all the time.

  When she walked past him, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, pressing her body against his. The contact had her taut nipples pressed against his chest, and the rise and fall of her breasts had them rubbing against him subtly, sending a rush of blood to his cock, leaving him fully engorged. He flexed his hips, pushing his cock into her belly, satisfaction unfurling in his chest at the way her eyes went heavy-lidded, and she took in a sharp breath. Her gaze met his briefly before flitting away, and he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her lips. They opened for him automatically and, unable to resist, he swept his tongue in, exploring the warm cavern before he pulled back. Cupping the mounds of her ass, he gently rocked his hips against her belly again and again, enjoying the sensation and enjoying even more the pulse of desire that beat at Charlotte’s neck, the way she licked her lips.

  “Did you enjoy this morning?” he whispered in her ear before giving the lobe a swipe that had her shivering.

  “Y-yes,” she said on a stutter.

  He trailed his fingers down her hips until he reached the hem of her gown and began pulling it up. As he worked, he exposed her thick thighs, smiling at the thought of how it had felt wrapped around his hips as he thrust into her. During his ascent, he paused to touch her, running the fabric across the dip of her waist, up the sensitive undersides of her breasts.

  “Did you think of me after I left?” he asked as he pulled the fabric over her head, leaving her exposed to him, her nipples pebbled into hard buds and the scent of her arousal perfuming the air.

  “Yes,” she said again, this time her voice thick and husky.

  “What did you think?”

  She stared into his eyes, the mix of nervousness and arousal in her gaze one of the most appealing things he’d ever seen.

  “I thought about you touching me.”

  “Touching you. Like this?”

  He ran his fingers across her belly, traced up her side.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “How? Show me.”

  He extended his hand, but she didn’t take it. For a moment, he feared she wouldn’t, but then, after a beat, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pulled on his arm, lifting his hand to her mouth. A sigh escaped when she sucked the tip of his middle finger between her lips, lavished it with soft, wet licks. Then she repeated the action with his index finger, bringing both digits into her mouth, alternating between licking and sucking at the tips. When he thought he’d have to pull away from the onslaught of pleasure, she pulled down on his wrist and placed his palm on her breasts, using his fingers to massage circles around her areola and occasionally stopping to squeeze the puckered bud of her nipple between his finger and hers.

  She repeated the action with the other breast and then moved down, over the ridge of her belly, over her belly button, to her soft mound, where the dark curls were matted with evidence of her arousal. She widened her stance and then guided his hand between her legs, laying a finger atop his and using both of their digits to stroke her clit.

  “Ahh.” Charlotte moaned her pleasure and put her free hand on his shoulder, apparently needing him for support. But she didn’t stop moving, just circled and squeezed her clit until she finally moved down and traced his finger and hers through the slick moisture gathered at her core. Much as she had with her clit, she used their combined fingers to circle her opening, her moisture coating both of them until their fingers were slippery, the faint clenching of her muscles that grew stronger as she continued vibrating from his fingers, up his arm, and straight to his cock. She moaned again when she used their fingers to breach her opening, and he did the same when her walls clamped down on them.

  He wanted to push deeper into her but held back and let her control the game since she was doing such an outstanding job so far. His lungs froze when she widened her stance again and moved their hands farther, circling her back hole with their fingers, her juices allowing them to glide smoothly. His gaze flew to hers, and the nervousness that had been there just a moment before was gone, and in its place was wanton, seeking desire, the kind that radiated from this beautiful woman who knew exactly what she wanted.

  She flinched when s
he used the tip of his finger to pierce her back opening, but she pushed on, kept traveling until his finger was inside her at the second knuckle, so hot, so tight he didn’t think he could stand not having his cock inside her for another moment. This had started as his game, but somewhere along the way she’d turned the tables on him, left him almost frantic with desire.

  The pouting moan she issued when he removed his finger filled him with a rush of pride, and before she could protest, he’d walked them back to the bed. She lay before him, an enticing selection of rounds and hollows there for the taking. He swore that one day he’d take the time to explore every inch of her, but the need was too great to ignore. She watched him with intense fascination, her hands grasping the bedcovers and her thighs spread in invitation as he ripped off his remaining clothes and then climbed atop her, the precum that furiously leaked from him leaving a sticky trail as he moved down her body and notched himself at her opening.

  She pushed down as he plunged up, and the pleasure at the contact left him light-headed and sent him into a frenzy. He bore down on her, moving his hips at an unrelenting speed that had Charlotte panting and grasping at the sheets even harder. Her inner muscles gripped him tight, and after a few thrusts, she went rigid, her muscles clamping down on him almost like a vise, her climax drawing his own. The sensation crashed through him like a lightning strike, and rather than fight, he accepted the feeling, his cum shooting out of him and into her welcoming heat in jet after jet until he had nothing left.

  As his heartbeat slowed, he realized that she’d curled herself around him, her legs wrapped in his, her arms around his waist. He didn’t even question the comfort and relief he felt; he just pulled her closer and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dawn broke and with it, an idea that had been brewing in Elah’s mind all night. He glanced down at the sleeping Charlotte, the new sunshine reflecting off her beautiful skin, the rich brown begging for his touch. Not resisting, he leaned down and kissed her exposed shoulder, tracing down the soft skin of her back, stirring her from sleep.