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“It’s okay.” Eli’s large hand smoothed down my hair. Tears were streaming down my face, and I felt as though I’d disassociated from what was going on. My body quaked uncontrollably, tears streamed down my face, but my mind felt foggy—likely as I came out of my dream.
“I’m sorry.” I inhaled the scent of Eli’s cologne, allowing it to wash over me. The scent from my dream wasn’t Eli’s. He always smelled clean, like sandalwood and soap. I buried my nose into his neck, allowing my tears to gather on his skin. He didn’t seem to mind as he ran a hand up and down my back, soothing me with calm words.
I didn’t know how long we were wrapped in one another’s arms, but I felt my heart start to calm, and my mind start to clear. I pulled back slightly, not that Eli allowed me to get too far, and I wiped a hand across my face.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated sheepishly. “I don’t know what that was.”
Eli frowned. “You don’t need to apologize.” He kept an arm around me as he ran another across his face. “You were screaming in your sleep.” He hesitated, and I knew there was more. “For your mother.”
I cringed. During the first weeks after the attack, I’d screamed out for Angel. His dead eyes, and the hole in his head had haunted me. Over the months, the dreams shifted, and the focus became on my mother and her body.
My therapist said that this would happen. They weren’t sure if it was the trauma, my mind trying to piece together the events of the night, or some combo of the two.
“Then you went limp.” Eli’s breathing was slightly harsh, and I noticed he was sucking in large gulps of air as he tried to gain control. There was a hint of fear in his eyes. “I thought you were fucking dead.” His tone was gruff.
My hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Eli hadn’t shaved since this morning, and I could feel the small rough hairs on his cheek and chin. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Eli leaned down so that his forehead was pressed against my own. Our breaths mingled. “Don’t apologize,” he said. Both of his hands were now tangled in my hair. His fingers rubbed themselves against my scalp, the feeling was comforting.
I knew Eli was going to have questions. Ones I was not sure I wanted to answer at that moment. Eli wasn’t wrong when he commented how I did not trust anyone, and why neither of us could afford to.
“Kiss me,” I ordered.
Eli moved slightly away from me, surprise in his eyes. “Carla…”
I swung myself slightly, so that I was straddling Eli’s lap. Not that it was difficult. He had pressed me against his side, but right now, I wanted to be closer.
“We shouldn’t do this.” Eli’s eyes were aflame as I shifted myself so that my core was pressed against his cock. We hadn’t slept together since the library, but I was ready for him. I needed him.
Being with Eli was one of the few times the trauma of my past was in the rear view and I could focus. Even though he took my breath away, sex with him was one of the few times I could breathe.
“You are saying that, but I don’t think your cock got the memo.” Eli was hard against me, and I ground myself harder on his cock, allowing the delicious feeling of him rubbing against my silk panties to drive away the demons that haunted me.
But Eli wasn’t going to be deterred. His large hands held me still, and I released a frustrated sigh. “I’m serious, Carla,” he growled. His eyes were dangerously dark. “You scared the fuck out of me.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing my body flush against him. My nipples were hard through the silk of my nightgown. Normally, I wasn’t someone who’d wear such frilly things, but Sophia had purchased them during our outing, and I’d started to enjoy the feeling of the silk on my skin.
And I knew Eli enjoyed them as well.
“Please,” I begged, desperate to get out of my head. I pressed my lips softly against his. “I need you.”
My words cracked him, and with a growl Eli leaned down and kissed me properly. His lips were soft and yielding against mine, but his tongue devoured me as though he were trying to taste every last bit. I wasn’t an inactive participant. My body writhed against his own. It felt like every nerve in my body was on fire.
Eli ripped my camisole from my body, exposing me to his hot gaze. “Fuck, you are gorgeous.” He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his tongue against the stiff bud made me cry out.
Eli smirked against my skin. I knew he liked when I cried out. The louder he made me, the more eager his ministrations became.
“Do you like that?” He pulled away from my skin, and I could see red marks starting to form on my breast. That was another thing Eli liked—marking me. He always did it in places where no one could see, but he did it none the same.
“Yes.” I tangled my hands in his hair, trying to pull him back to me.
But Eli was not going to be controlled. His fingers skimmed to my inner thigh. “You are drenched.” He pressed his fingers against my panties. “Practically soaked, and I’ve barely touched you yet.”
I was panting as he ran a finger against my slit through my panties. My mind was hazy, but this time, it was from the orgasm that was starting to build in the pit of my stomach.
“Do you want to cum?” Eli growled. He slid his finger inside of me, causing me to moan loudly. The single digit wasn’t enough to do anything more than stimulate my already wrought nerves.
I nodded.
