Page 39 of Brutal Titan

Victoria

Stepping out of the shower, the conversation with Elliot is still front and center in my mind; his words on repeat since he walked away. He blames himself for what happened to his mom. It took everything I had not to tell him to go see her, talk to her, ask her the questions—she might not have answers for them, but he needs to speak them aloud because it’s obvious they are troubling him deeper than he’s willing to admit. Is he really okay, or is he wearing a mask too?

It’s the question that plagues me as I pull on a T-shirt and pair of cotton pajama shorts. I doubt I’ll get a straight answer even if I ask. He’d shut off as soon as he thought I was pitying him. I just don’t know what to say to him because words won’t help. Climbing into bed, I lie there for a while, considering if I should go find him, but figure it’d be pointless. Once his mind is made up, that’s it. When Elliot wants something, it’s his way or no way, and he will accomplish his goal by any means necessary even if it’s something as simple as wanting to have a conversation. When morning comes, I’ll do the same. My stomach churns as I make the decision to confess about visiting his mom, and I can’t help but think it would be worthwhile for him to do so as well, at least I hope so.

I’ve finally dozed off but am awoken by the bed shifting next to me. My eyes dart open as I pull the comforter up and scoot back in the bed as my eyes adjust to the darkness. Elliot. He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, his face in his hands.

It has to be hours later, but I’m unsure, only knowing it’s still dark outside. Sitting up, I watch as he remains motionless.

“Elliot,” I whisper. Hands dropping, he turns to look at me with tired eyes, like he’d been sleeping or that he really needs to. And my guess is he’d already tried to get some rest because he’s shirtless, wearing only pajama pants, and his familiar freshly showered, comforting scent lingers in the air. Though he looks anything but refreshed. “What’s wrong?”

“I just want to sleep. Just one night without reliving it.” Exhaustion is evident as he rubs his hand across his face, cussing under his breath.

“I’m sor—”

“No. Don’t say it.” Turning, he moves into the bed, sliding under the comforter next to me. Wrapping his arms around me, he buries his face in my hair, letting out a depleted breath as he whispers, “Just stay with me. Please.”

I don’t say anything, instead I snake my arms around him until he finally relaxes. His breath warm against my neck, he squeezes me closer. His hand caresses down my side, stopping on my thigh as his fingers grasp my bare skin before moving back up, gripping my hip. Shifting back, he looks to me with a desperate need. I know it all too well and recognize the unspoken question in his eyes. I want it just as much as he does, and it has nothing to do with pity. Leaning forward, my mouth meets his as he gently kisses me. Slightly pulling back, he whispers against my lips, "Tell me to stop.”

Deepening the kiss, my mouth crashes against his, and I make it clear that I have no intention of stopping. I need him to touch me, feel me, show me that he desires me as much as I do him.

His hand slips beneath the soft cotton fabric of my shorts as his palm cups my ass. I shift on top of him, straddling him as he reaches for the hem of my T-shirt. Tugging it over my head, it’s tossed aside as he leans forward to return his lips to mine before trailing down my neck. His hand cups my breast, his tongue licks a path down to tease my nipple, sucking it into his mouth as I rock against him, my head falling back. He shouldn’t feel this right, this good, and the thought that he’s just getting started is both frightening and thrilling as I relish in every blissful second of his mouth on my body.

Wrapping his arm around my back, he rotates, shifting to lay me back on the bed. For a split second, I worry he’s pulling away but the hungry look in his eye confirms that neither of us can resist the force drawing us together. And I’m not sure I’d want to stop even if I could. My legs instantly clasp around his hips, his mouth on mine as he rocks forward. My palms glide down his back, sliding into the waistband of his pajamas, shoving the material down as he shifts, kicking them off until they fall to the floor. Reaching down, I grip his hard cock, stroking as he groans, unraveling beneath my touch. I enjoy every second of him losing control, giving in to what we’ve both fought relentlessly to resist.

Hooking his finger on the waistband of my shorts, he tugs them down, along with my panties, in one brisk move. Discarding them to the floor, his eyes darken, taking in my exposed body. Shifting back, a fierce yearning is plain in his eyes as he lowers his mouth, trailing over my stomach, his tongue tasting my skin as he continues down. Groaning with anticipation as he teases, Elliot strokes the soft skin of my inner thigh with his tongue before shifting up with a seductive chuckle. He knows exactly what he’s doing, driving me insane with anticipation that I’ve already waited forever to feel. Finally, he delivers—covering my slit with his mouth, he licks, sucking and teasing while his fingers slide inside me. Beyond control, my back arches off the bed. Having imagined how it would feel to have his mouth on my body cannot compare to how it actually feels, and I don’t want it to end. Ever. I clutch his hair, holding his head in place against my sex as I rock against his mouth. On a groan, his tongue mercilessly continues, expertly bringing me to a blinding orgasm. Riding the powerful, fulfilling wave, I’m certain only he could elicit such a response from my body. His fingers slow before sliding out altogether as he softly licks a path around my pussy before shifting, moving up, kissing along the way as I lie there, still recovering. He hovers over me, our bodies not touching and I hate feeling the absence of his warm skin against mine. Clutching his sides, I shift beneath him, pulling him to me. His body molds to mine, his powerful arms cage me in, making me feel safe. Comfortable under him, my desire stirs. I long to feel him inside me, and it’s something that I never thought would happen, yet I know it should only happen with him.

His cock teases my entrance, fueling my need for him. All of him. His eyes study mine as my breath hitches, knowing he could flip the off switch at any moment. This moment would be the worst, I wouldn’t survive. Uncertainty on his face, he tenses but slowly lowers his lips to mine. And it’s all the reassurance I need to know he isn’t stopping, just proceeding slowly on something that we both have longed for. Kissing me softly, his arms move under me, hands clutching my shoulders as his kiss deepens. Lifting my hips offers him all the encouragement he needs, and he thrusts forward, his cock filling me as I cling to his shoulders consumed with an overwhelming sensation as he remains inside me. Dropping his head to bury his face against my neck, he breathes my name, which only serves to intensify my desire. He remains rigid for a moment before slowly pulling out, then thrusting forward. A moan escapes my lips but is quickly caught by his mouth covering mine. My hips meet his as he moves inside me, rhythmically finding our pace until he goes rigid, spilling inside me as I hold tight, not wanting to let go.

“Fuck,” he groans, slightly relaxing his weight on me for a few minutes before shifting back to meet my gaze. I search his expression, and he seems to be doing the same. There’s a mixture of contentment and concern on his face, and I’m afraid of what he’ll latch onto until he lowers his lips to mine and whispers, “You feel like home.”

Clenching my eyes shut, I soak in his words, knowing with each one he’s sinking deeper into my heart. I’m not sure how that’s even possible because it dawns on me that he’s already fully embedded in it.

He tenderly kisses me, relishing in the remaining moments of bliss before slowly pulling out and shifting to the side. He falls to the mattress beside me, his arm lifting and moving over me while brushing a path with his fingertips up my stomach, skimming between my breasts as he keeps his eyes locked on mine.

We’re both unsure of what consequences will come from what just happened, but the only thing I want is to do it again, even if we shouldn’t. But I can’t bring myself to say it to him. Whether it’s spoken aloud or not, it’s the truth. But maybe if I hold on to some part of my heart, I can keep it intact if everything falls apart, as I fear it might.

Sliding off the bed, his hand catches my arm. I look over my shoulder as he asks, “Are you leaving?”

“No,” I whisper as his hand releases me. “Just going to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

His serious expression eases slightly before I look away, stepping inside the bathroom and closing the door behind me. Though I quickly clean up, I hesitate to walk back out into the room. Avoiding his eyes, I search for my clothes, feeling too exposed in front of him. Walking over to me, he hands me my T-shirt. I pull it over my head and, locating my shorts, I tug them on to cover myself before sliding back under the covers.

He leans over, feathering a kiss over my lips. “I’ll be right back.” He grabs his pajamas off the floor before stepping into the bathroom.

My mind is lost in thought when I feel the bed shift next to me before his arm drapes over my side and his chest presses against my back.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers, sensing my unease, but I’m not convinced.

Rotating, I turn to face him as he lies on his back, wrapping his arms around my body. Holding me snuggly against him, my head rests on his chest, my arm clinging to his side, I close my eyes but remain awake until his breathing finally steadies. When he’s finally fallen asleep, I hope the nightmares will stay away from him for a few hours. Nuzzling against his chest, my arm tightens around his waist, relishing the feeling because I already know come morning, reality will crash down around us. Brutally.