by Noir, Roxie
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to call it a night,” I say, heart still pounding so hard I’m afraid my intern can hear it from across my office.
“I was just about to walk her out,” Eli says over his shoulder.
“Cool,” Kevin says, nodding. “See you Monday!”
Then he’s gone. Eli’s laughing silently, his arms crossed over his beautiful torso. I roll my eyes at him and flip him off. He grabs my wrist and pulls me upright again.
“Okay, I care about the open door a little,” he teases. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
I shift my hips against him. A muscle in his jaw ticks, like he’s trying to control himself.
“And then?” I ask, my hands lightly against his stomach.
“Well, since I live with my mother, my brother, and my niece, I think our options are the back of my Bronco or your place, Violet,” he says.
His hands are on my ass again, pulling me in. Desire slices into me like a hot knife.
“Your choice,” Eli says, grinning.
* * *
I paw through my underwear drawer, mercilessly shoving aside bras I haven’t worn in months, panties I didn’t know I still had, and a few stray pairs of tights that aren’t with my winter things yet.
Please be in here, I think. And please be unexpired.
I shove some more. My fingers find lace, and I frown, pulling something out.
It’s a black lace bra. Basically see-through, dainty and alluring and sexy.
I stare down at it, wondering when I bought it and how long I’ve had it, because God knows I haven’t had a reason to wear black lace in quite a while.
Should I put it on? Is this a black lace bra kind of tryst, or —
Then there’s the sound of heavy tires crunching on gravel. My heart stops, then speeds up. I cram the bra back in the drawer and shove my hand to the very back, elbow-deep in unmentionables.
A Bronco door slams. My stomach twists.
Last chance to make a good decision.
I almost laugh out loud at the hilarious joke I just told myself as my fingers finally brush against foil. I yank two condoms out in victory, just as footsteps come up my front steps.
I throw them on the bed, slam the drawer shut, wonder what the hell I’m doing one last time, and leave my bedroom.
Eli’s standing on the other side of my screen door, fist raised to knock.
“That wasn’t ten minutes,” I say.
“Nope,” he says, and opens the screen door, stepping inside.
It hasn’t shut when he kisses me.
He kisses me so hard it nearly lifts me off the floor, the kiss vibrating through my whole body. I manage to swipe at the front door behind him and swing it shut.
Then I’m up against it, just like that. His mouth is still on mine and my hands are fisted in his shirt, then under it. He grabs my ass again and hoists me, still pressed against my front door, my legs going around his hips.
“Did you really think I was going to wait ten whole minutes?” he says, his mouth still half on mine.
He shifts his hips, pressing me harder against the door, the thick ridge of his cock slipping over my clit. Even though there’s God knows how many layers of fabric between us, it sends a thrill of pleasure through my body.
“I didn’t want anyone to know we were leaving together,” I murmur.
His lips work their way along my jaw, to my ear. He’s got one hand in my hair, the other on my side. My legs tighten around him of their own accord.
“You think anyone would naturally assume that because we left at the same time, we were driving to your place to fuck?” he says, his lips brushing against my ear.
“Well, weren’t we?” I say.
“Hell yes,” he says, biting my earlobe. “But no one else thinks that.”
I gasp, gritting my teeth together. I’ve got one arm around his shoulders, and I start tugging at his shirt. It needs to come off, now.
Eli obliges. The shirt lands somewhere in my kitchen and his lips land back on mine, his hands quickly undo my blouse. The moment it’s off he pulls my bra straps down over my shoulders, leaving my bra half-on and my nipples exposed and stiff.
He pinches one. I gasp again, and he rolls it between his fingers as my head goes back against the door, my eyes shut.
It feels really, really good. I bite my lip and clench his arms in my fists, trying not to make a noise because despite all this, I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
I don’t know why, other than by now it’s baked into my DNA.
Then my bra’s off, on the floor. I stand on my own again and I grab the waistband of Eli’s pants, pull him in toward me, his mouth capturing mine again.
He’s hard as a rock, his thick length insistent against me. I’m a puddle of desire, wet as hell.
I slide one hand down the length of his cock, through his pants. Eli growls, grabbing one hip and shoving me back against the door, an untamed flash lighting through his green eyes.
I do it again, but harder. Now he’s wild, one hand in my hair, his lips on my neck. He bites my collarbone and I yelp, but he just laughs, the sound rough and low as he just bites me again. This time the sensation sends a thrill through me, every hair on my body standing on end.
I grab his cock through his pants. He’s big — really big, actually — but desire rushes through me again as he keeps me pinned.
Eli yanks on my pants, undoing the button, forcing the zipper down so roughly I’m afraid he’ll break it.
“Don’t break it,” I hiss.
“It was stuck,” he says, his mouth back on mine.
“Finesse it, don’t force it,” I say.
He slides his hand underneath my panties, his fingers slipping through my folds. I’m wet as hell and I know it, and from the way his kiss suddenly gets rough, even more fiery, he does too.
“Finesse it?” he murmurs, sliding a fingers between my lower lips.
I gasp, my breath catching in my throat.
“How’s this?” he asks, sliding another finger between my lips. He pushes them both inside me shallowly, and my hand on his waistband tightens, tugging him toward me.
“Does that count as finessing?” Eli teases me, drawing his fingers back out of me, sliding them forward until they’re on either side of my clit. My whole body jerks as he squeezes it lightly. I think I moan, so he does it again, harder.
He kisses me, his tongue in his mouth. I squeeze his cock again, my fingers tight around him through the fabric. He groans and pinches my clit, white heat arcing through my body.
“That’s two questions you haven’t answered yet,” he growls, his lips still against mine. “Unless moaning counts as an answer.”
That cocky smile is there in his voice as he rubs me faster, fingers sliding back to my lips, teasing entry before moving away again.
I take a deep breath and force myself to focus for a moment.
“I’m just impressed you know where the clit is,” I say.
He pinches it between his fingers. This time I definitely moan, and Eli grins.
“That?” he asks, and does it again, then again. I’m standing on my tiptoes, pressed against my front door, because we haven’t managed to get any further into my house.
“I saw a diagram once,” he teases, his voice still low.
We kiss. He keeps strumming me, over and over again. I’m trembling from the tension, rubbing his cock through his pants, listening to his breath catch in his throat every time I do.
“You know me, I like to study things real good,” Eli goes on, his fingers still moving, now faster. “Be properly prepared just in case Violet Tulane wants to take me home.”
I can barely listen to what he’s saying. What he’s doing feels way too good, and I know that if he keeps it up I’m going to come hard and fast and without so much as taking my pants off. He kisses me, his tongue in my mouth, his fingers working me.
“Seems like it was worthwhile,” he says. “Since you’re
wet as fuck and about thirty seconds from coming, and I’ve barely gotten past your front door.”
“Forty-five,” I gasp.
He raises his eyebrows.
“Is that a challenge?” he murmurs.
His fingers move faster. I kiss him and bite his lip. I moan and I can’t stop, my body closing in on climax.
He slows, then he stops, his fingers teasing my lips one last time before he pulls his hand out of my pants completely, his lips still on mine.
“What the fuck?” I hiss, but he laughs.
“You’re pretty when you’re mad,” he says. “And I always did like pissing you off.”
I grab the waistband of his pants, jerk his hips toward mine until they meet, his erection straining against me.
“Don’t tell me that’s the point of all this,” I say, looking up at him through my eyelashes.
He kisses me hard, one thumb on my nipple again. I unbutton and unzip his pants, find his boxer-clad cock, and squeeze.
Eli laughs in my ear.
“The point of this is to see how loud I can make you come,” he says. “Pissing you off a little is just a fun bonus.”
Now I’m grabbing his cock and blushing at the same time. I reach through his boxers and stroke him, skin to skin. He’s even bigger than I realized, and as I do he groans again, pushing me harder against the door.
“I’m gonna make things real awkward with your neighbors,” he whispers. I stroke him again longer, harder, feeling like I might burst out of my skin with heat and desire, the sheer uncontrollable want I feel right now.
“You think you can?” I ask, still stroking him. His hips move in rhythm with my hand, unfettered growls coming from somewhere deep in his chest.
“I told you I studied,” Eli teases me. I squeeze his cock, precum gathering at the tip, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from making a noise. “Plenty of diagrams. Even a moving picture or two.”
He slides his hands down my body. By now he’s shoving his cock through my hands, our lips together, our tongues tangled. My pants come down and then his, and suddenly his cock is bare against my belly and we’re pressed together, skin to skin. I shiver and it’s wonderful, the combination of his warm body and the cool door at my back.
He tweaks a nipple. He moves his hand between my legs again, thumb flicking expertly past my clit, fingers just barely delving into my wetness. I moan and he withdraws.
Then he takes a moment. He presses his forehead to mine, our noses tip to tip. We’re both breathing hard, our chests expanding and falling together, his hands still exploring me.
“Violet.”
“Eli.”
He laughs. My eyes are closed but I can feel it.
“Which door is your bedroom?”
“Right behind you,” I say.
The second the words are out of my mouth I’m in the air, slung over Eli’s shoulder like I’m a bag of flour as he strides into my bedroom, ducking slightly as he goes through the doorway. He tosses me gently on the bed, and I bounce once before he’s on top of me, between my legs, his body covering mine.
I wrap my legs around him, arch my back. His cock slides against my mound and belly, and I squeeze tighter, feeling like I might explode.
I want him. Now. As much as I can’t believe that I’m naked with Eli Loveless, not to mention having a great time, here we are and I. Want. Him. Now.
There’s the sound of foil crinkling by my head, and Eli’s lips pull back. He’s leaning on one elbow, his other hand on my thigh, stroking it while it’s wrapped around him.
“Twice, huh?” he asks, grinning.
I glance over at the two condoms in his hand. Frankly, right now, they don’t seem like enough.
“If you need a second chance,” I tease.
He tears one open with his teeth, looking me in the eye the whole time. It’s the first time I’ve ever found opening a condom sexy, but right now, I’m mesmerized. He rolls it on, and I grab him in my fist, arching my back, guiding him to my slick entrance.
Eli groans, his face against my neck, the sound vibrating through my whole body. I’m aching and desperate, but he pauses for a moment with his tip right at my opening, teasing me.
Then he sinks in. My eyes slide close and I grab his hair in my fist, a noise I’ve never heard before coming from my mouth. He’s big — bigger than I realized, definitely bigger than any previous boyfriend — but he hilts himself in one long, slow stroke and it feels fucking perfect.
It feels like we were designed to fit together like this, hand in glove, heat coursing through my whole body.
“Oh, fuck,” Eli whispers when he’s buried, and pauses.
I kiss him and he kisses me back, oddly slow and sensual. I feel like he’s touching somewhere deep inside me that’s never been touched before, something that touches a live wire, a raw nerve, and I need a minute or else I might simply dissolve.
The kiss gets harder. Faster. His tongue is in my mouth and I bite his lower lip, a little harder than I mean to. I slide my hand down his neck, to his shoulder and then he catches it with his, fingers encircling my wrist, pushes it down onto the bed, his weight on me.
I tighten my legs. I roll my hips, and he might be on top of me but that makes him move inside me, and he exhales hard, squeezing my wrist even harder.
I do it again, and this time in response he plows into me. I swear his cock hits every nerve I’ve got, including some I’ve never found before. My eyes slide shut and I whimper with pleasure.
I’m definitely going to feel weird talking to my neighbors tomorrow.
We do it again, then again, still wrapped in each other, each movement harder and faster than the last, desperate and needy. I’m using his body for pleasure and he’s using mine and nothing in my entire life has ever felt better.
He’s still holding my wrist, my legs still wrapped around his waist, and with every stroke he growls, groans. He drops onto one elbow and whispers Jesus fucking Christ, Violet into my ear over and over as he crashes into me and I invite him in.
I bite his shoulder. I claw his back with my other hand and we fuck harder and harder, the whole world obliterated except for the pure physical movement of our bodies, raw and hard and rough and like nothing I’ve ever even imagined.
I climb sky-high. I’m trying to tear Eli apart just to get more of him, more of him faster and harder and deeper until I can’t stand it any more.
“Don’t stop,” I hear myself say, half whispering, half moaning. “Don’t stop don’t stop don’t —”
He kisses me savagely as he buries himself again and I moan into his mouth.
“As if I would,” he growls. I bite his lip and his fingers dig into my wrist, my thigh. I’m cracking apart at the seams, close to coming unstoppably, uncontrollably. “I said loud, Violet.”
Harder and harder, my comforter digging into my spine with every thrust.
“I fucking meant it,” he whispers.
I grit my teeth together. I’m cracking, unraveling, my whole body tense as a fist, closed around Eli. He’s relentless, taking, giving, holding me tight as I rise to meet him, keeping him.
Suddenly, the fist opens, and I fall. I think I shout. I know I tremble, shaking, the climax like a thunderclap in my body, the sound wave fast and vicious.
Seconds later, Eli falls into me. He buries his face in my neck and shouts, moans, and I wrap my legs around him harder, keeping him buried as we rock together. He jolts inside me and my body responds, aftershocks still rippling through me, the electrical impulses of nerves having their own way.
We slow. He releases my wrist, his hand slides up mine until our fingers interlock and then he closes it, intertwining our hands. I wrap my other arm around his back, holding him close, unfurling my legs from around him.
I kiss him, or maybe he kisses me. It’s lazy and unhurried, thoughtful, slow. He pulls back, runs a thumb over my lip, kisses me again. I trace a finger down his spine, feeling every notch.
Fina
lly, he rolls off, and we both crawl to the head of my bed, flop onto my pillows, exhausted. I close my eyes, his touch still singing through me. I feel like I’m melding with my bed, I’m so tired.
I sense Eli turn toward me, and after a moment, I open my eyes and look over. He’s in the same position I am: on his back, panting for breath, looking as if he might never move again.
“What?” I murmur.
He smiles. It’s teasing, taunting, a promise of something wicked glinting in his eye.
“Not bad,” he says.
I start laughing, and the glint intensifies, the smile going full-on sexy and dangerous.
“Yeah, that was okay, I guess,” I say between giggles. “If you want to try again there’s one condom left.”
Eli looks down at his dick, then up at me.
“Five minutes,” he says, and winks.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eli
I wake up to sunlight in my eyes and the sensation that I’m being dragged up from the depths of the ocean against my will, like some sort of captured giant squid.
I’ve never exactly been a morning person.
I throw one arm over my eyes. When that’s not good enough, I roll over, bury my head beneath a pillow, the sheets twisting around my hips. My elbow bumps something soft and warm.
“Ow,” it says. “That’s my face.”
I crack an eye open to see a barely-awake Violet looking at me, lying on her stomach, my elbow right in front of her nose.
I remember where I am instantly.
“Morning, sunshine,” I say, grinning.
Violet grabs my forearm with both hands and shoves it away, out of her face. I let her.
“You’re on my side,” she mutters.
“You’re on my side,” I counter, just for the hell of it.
“The whole bed is my side,” she says, still shoving. “You’re just a temporary guest.”
“This is how you treat guests?” I tease, still not moving. “How about a little southern hospitality?”
Violet raises one eyebrow, and her eyes go instantly wicked.