Gripping his hair and pulling him toward me, I capture his mouth and bite gently at his lower lip as he pants against me, giving himself over completely.
The Earth stops spinning. I thrust once, twice until my vision fades to black. Lightning travels up my body, and I come inside him.
As I soften, I ease my finger free. Brushing my cum-slick finger over his lips, I pull him back into a kiss, tasting myself in his mouth. Time slows. The world disappears. It’s just me and him and this feeling.
When he comes up for air, he’s breathing loudly. I pull him into my chest, clinging to him.
He's quiet now. Calm.
When he starts getting antsy a little while later, I let him slide onto the bed before padding to the bathroom. I clean myself up quickly, then come back with a warm washcloth.
I take my time cleaning him. His eyes are drooping, that’s the only reason he lets me linger.
Once we're done, I lie back down beside him, pulling him against me. Then press a kiss to his forehead.
“I love you,” I tell him.
“Love you too,” he murmurs against my neck.
I fall asleep with the dorkiest smile on my face.
I help Elliot clean up properly after we wake up from our nap that turned into way more than just a nap, to no one's surprise. We’ve had a sudden onslaught of cockblockers in our lives. Every chance had to be put to good use.
We end the day early after taking Mickey for a quick walk and picking up burritos on the way. As I lie in Elliot’s bed, his scent washing over me, I can’t help but want more. More time. More of him. I want everything with him.
I pull him closer to me. He mumbles something against my chest before settling down again.
“I love you so much,” I whisper against his hair.
He hums in his sleep.
I must have fallen asleep at some point because my eyes snap open from the buzz near my ears.
Elliot is sound asleep on his stomach on the other side of the bed. He has a habit of drifting away every night, as if his intimacy meter maxes out after a while, even in his sleep.
I turn to check who is annoying enough to text so early in the morning. Swiping my phone on, I’m surprised to see the sheer number of messages in the Bureau group chat.
Matt: Are we meeting soon?
Sloan: We obviously need to.
Bree: Two deaths in two weeks. That has to be a new record.
Sloan: We need to keep everything aside and focus on this.
I have no idea what they’re talking about, but it has to be urgent if Matt is up and active at seven on his day off. Scrolling up, I try to figure out what's gotten them chirping like a flock of birds at the crack of dawn.
My hand stops at the words that make my body go cold.
Meena: We found another werewolf an hour ago. Died sometime last night. The body has been transported to our morgue.
Chapter Eleven
Crimes, Coincidences, and Compulsive Cravings
Elliot
“Why are you smiling?Stop it.It’s creepy,” Sam says as I navigate the car through the light traffic.
