Page 45 of Taming Elijah


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***

The light faded and the stars came out but Sheridan did not move. She felt peace unlike any she had ever known, and also fear. Fear that it would all disappear like the sinking sun, but never rise again. She did not like the battle of emotions. She shifted, seeking Elijah’s warmth and came up blank. She rolled from the bed and drew on his flannel shirt and poncho. The air was growing cooler. She walked over to the cabin window and parted the curtain, the fog had grown thicker. They were in for more rain. She ran lightly down the stairs and paused as she observed the silence of the cabin.

Fear surged through her. Had he returned to town alone to face them?

Without thinking she wrenched the door opened and stepped outside in the bracing cold. The clearing was empty, but over the panicky thunder of her heart she heard a chopping sound. She rushed around the side of the cabin all the way to the back and drew up sharply. It was hard for her to decide whether Elijah stripped to the waist chopping wood, or the beauty of the land was the most splendid sight. At the back of the cabin, dark green grass speared for yards before it stopped at the foot of the thick misty forest, sprinkled with shards of receding sun. The smell of aspen and evergreens permeated her nose, and the gurgle of water reached her ears. She walked toward it and pushed through some thickets of evergreens and froze. What she beheld was paradise. Water ran lazily from a rock and settled into a clear running stream.

The sweet melodies of birds as they sang rippled through her. The exotic beauty of the place did not detract from its wild savagery. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed awed.

He continued chopping the wood with an easy strength and masculine grace. She blatantly admired the power in his shoulders, the twisting ripple of his muscles with each downward stroke of the axe.

“There is a storm coming. You are not dressed for out here.”

She nodded but made no move to leave. The raw untamed power of his body intrigued her. “Elijah...”

“Go inside, Sheridan.” He all but growled as the wood he splintered broke apart more violently.

“I was wondering if I kissed you there, like how you kissed me, if it would feel as good for you.” She made no effort to disguise the curious hunger in her voice.

“God damn it!” he dropped the axe and slapped a palm against his forehead as if in pain.

Sheridan rushed forward. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

She gasped as he drew her to him and claimed her lips. He took her mouth in a swift, fierce kiss that ended before she could respond. “Are you wet?” he asked hungrily.

The sleek power of his body beneath her hands and the raw look of desire on his face had anticipation skittering along her nerves. “Yes,” she moaned, kneading his shoulder.

Wasting no time to test the truth of her words, he lifted her, wrapped her legs around his hips, shifted her, and stabbed deep. When had he unbuckled his pants? Shock hazed her mind when she splintered instantly. “Elijah.” His name came like a sob and she clamped down on his thick length, ripples of fire burning away the cold.

With measured steps he walked to the cabin, with her impaled upon him so deliciously. He kept kissing her, drowning her in waves of need and anticipation.

What had brought this on? Her words about taking him in her mouth?

They slammed into the cabin and she tensed on him, expecting him to take her by the door. She moaned when he continued climbing the stairs. Each roll of his hips as he lifted his foot had him rubbing against a place deep in her that caused the pleasure to sharpen.

She wrenched her mouth from his to breathe raggedly, but he only gave her a few seconds before claiming her lips again. He tumbled her onto the bed, his buttocks flexing beneath her heels, and pushing deeper.

Her mind hazed. Her hands ran over the muscles of his back, distantly noting he sweated despite the cold. He took her with a tender ferocity, bringing her to pinnacles of pleasure over and over. Her mind screamed that she loved him, but she showed him with her body instead, giving him all that he demanded and more, fervently praying that his need for her meant that he hungered for her in the way she craved him.

Afterwards, she had never felt more at peace as she drifted off to sleep, secure that for now she need not fear. She sighed letting the world fade, relaxing deeply into Elijah’s warmth.

***

“Ah God, Emma no. Please God no. Nathan?”

The tortured demand drew Sheridan from sleep. The arms she had fallen asleep in no longer held her. She twisted, trying to make out Elijah’s face in the faint moonlight that flittered in through the cracks in the curtains. He seemed serene. Had she imagined the words?

She sat up careful not to disturb him and inspected the room. Not that she really thought someone else was with them, but it paid to be careful. She shifted one of her feet, dropping it on the wooden floor and winced. They had been insatiable in how they loved each other. It was as if a dam of pent-up neediness and desires had been released. Elijah had taken her so many times, and she had been just as voracious in her demands. She’d been adamant in learning to love him with her mouth and giving him pleasure. The only time he hadn’t loved her was while they prepared food, when she had slipped in and out of sleep, or when he disappeared for minutes scouting around the cabin to ensure no one approached.

She shifted again and winced, realizing they may have been too adamant.

Heat rushed to her cheeks. She knew what it had been. She’d felt the overpowering need to bind Elijah to her, and if she could only do that through mutual loving it would be enough for now. She loved him and the hope that he might feel the same had been beating inside of her since he came for her in town. Every time she thought to ask him, the words froze on her tongue and uncertainty paralyzed her. The only certainty she knew was that Elijah had not been indifferent to her. The way he had been when she decided that giving him her body was not the way to winning his heart. But she found it hard to believe that the passion they burned with was not a unique thing between them. A passion whose embers could grow into the flames of love making it impossible for him not to want to marry her. He might not love her now, but he wanted her. And for now his want, would have to be enough.

His breathing hitched behind her and she paused in the act of slipping off the bed. She turned, searching his face. There was a pause in his breathing, and then the most horrible sound she had ever heard from a human being escaped his throat. The fine hairs on her arms stood up and her nape tingled.

He twisted, the quilt tangling in his legs. “She slashed his throat. God please let me be dreaming.” His voice broke on his last wo

rds.

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