I hoist her up into the corner, my cock painfully hard again, and grind against her.
“Ares.” Her voice is as coated with arousal as the panties in my pocket. “People might get on the elevator.”
Gripping her against me, I spin around to face the key pad so I can unlock the elevator. “Private elevator for the penthouse.” I grab my wallet and smack it off the pad on the wall behind her back, hoping the damn thing connects and I don’t have to put her down to find the specific card. “It’s just us.”
She looks over my shoulder. “Camera.”
I don’t turn to look at where she’s inclining her chin at the red blinking light in the corner. I know where every camera in the building is. And they aren’t for show. “I can have security pull the tape in the morning.” I cup her pussy, grinding the heel of my hand against her.
She moans, tipping her head back to reveal a new line of bruises I’ve bitten and sucked along her neck. With each floor the elevator car passes, I work her into a new wave of frenzy. My fingers are slick between her folds, and the more I caress her clit the louder she gets.
She bends forward, clamping my arm against her like she might fall over, wavering on her feet.
“I’ve got you,tesoro.” But I don’t stop fingering her, slow and measured strokes juxtaposed against her sharp and quick breaths.
When the elevator car eventually comes to a stop, I half carry, half drag her into my foyer. I was going to wait until we got to the bed, but I can’t. I’m agonizingly hard again, pressure building throughout my whole being. I need to get inside her, to hear her moan and writhe under me as I bring her to the edge and we both fall over together.
The motion sensor lights in my living area buzz to life, and she gasps. “It’s so… bright.” Something flickers in her eyes—an insecurity I haven’t seen before, and it gives me pause.
We’re momentarily interrupted as Bacon shuffles out to investigate. He sniffs us both, snorts, and goes back the same direction he came from. I bet Puck sent him to scope out whether or not we had food.
“What is it,cariño?”
Eloise shakes her head. “Are we going to the bedroom? I’m sure the lights aren’t as bright.” She squints, holding her hand up to protect her eyes, but it’s an exaggeration. She’s spooked about something, the bright lights, but why?
Her purse has somehow made it onto her torso on the journey up to my apartment, looped over her head and dangling next to her stomach. I open it, grab a wipe from the packet, and start the process of cleaning the smudged paint from her face, delaying our progress to the bedroom. I need to know what demons she’s fighting so I know how to help her slay them.
Her hand touches mine. “I can do that.” She smiles, but it’s not a light-up-her-eyes kind of smile that I’m used to from my sparkly-eyed beauty. “Definitely don’t want to get paint on your sheets.” Nervous energy pours from her body, anxious and scared. I’m about thirty seconds from having my girl bolt back down the elevator shaft and out into the street.
“Fuck the sheets.” I grunt and keep wiping at the paint, long slow strokes slowly revealing her skin underneath. “I want to see your pretty face.”
Flinching at my words, she gasps again, though this time it sounds strangled, like it got caught somewhere in her throat on the way out.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Eloise.”
Her anxiety is heavy in the air, thick and unyielding. It emanates from her in rolling waves, and I don’t know what I’ve said or done to make her uncomfortable.
Her eyes well with tears, and her jaw is trembling so hard I’m not sure she’ll be able to keep it attached to her face. I wrap her into a tight hug, holding her against me, unsure of how we went from fucking in the parking garage to tears, but I’m holding onto a tiny thread of hope this isn’t something I’ve done. Except it usually fucking is. Does she already regret sleeping with me?
“Can we keep the lights turned off?” Her muffled voice is so quiet against my body it barely registers.
I don’t know where this is going, but I have a feeling I’m not going to like it. “Are they hurting your head?”
She pauses, then shakes her head. I pull back from her and crouch down. Dotting kisses on both tear-stained cheeks before licking her salty tears off my lips.
“Please talk to me, Eloise. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”
I pull out my phone and push a button, dimming the harsh lights around us to a warm glow, but I don’t make it dark. I need my girl to know that the light isn’t her enemy, it’s not something to fear or shy away from and that while she might feel comfortable hiding in the shadows, we can’t live in the dark forever.
“I haven’t been…” She sniffs, buries her head deeper into my shoulder, and I’m not sure if it’s down to embarrassment or sadness. “My ex…” Her body quivers, and mine freezes. If her ex so much as accidentally caught her hair in his fucking zipper, he’s a dead man.
“He never… we never…” She sucks in a breath and straightens before looking me in the eye. She pulls herself together right in front of me and it hurts that she thinks she has to. She has no idea how fucking brave she is, how strong and capable. “We never did it face to face. He didn’t want to look at my scars.”
Something in my chest snaps. Fury zips through my body like someone lit a fuse and flames are racing to the fuel, ready to blow. But as much as I want to go and find that fucker ex of hers and make him beg for me not to tear him into tiny pieces and feed him to my fucking pig, I draw in a slow breath through my nose.
This isn’t about me, this is about my beautiful, sweet, self-conscious girl, and there are things I need to do for her.
I cover her mouth with my finger before crouching a little and throwing her over my shoulder. She squeals, wiggles her legs, giggling and smacking at my ass while demanding I let her walk, but I don’t stop until I reach my room.
