AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What the fuck?
“All due respect, Eli.” I stiffen. Quite frankly, the ‘due respect’ part was me buying time. He doesn’t get to say any of this shit. “It’s not yours to take. It’s mine to give.”
“Then give it to me, baby.”
I shake my head. It’s too much, too soon.
It’s exhaustion and coming twice.
It’s knowing how desperate I was for him…
…and how brutally he rejected me.
It’s sex twice this week, but seventeen years of unrequited desire.
No.
Fuck that.
Fuck him.
“I can’t do that, Eli. I can’t give you what you want.”
He spins me around and takes my mouth, his hands going to my hips, lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist.
When his hot cock probes at my entrance, I do what I know I shouldn’t—I sink down on his hot length, taking him, swallowing him in body, stretching around him as he fills me so deeply. I torture my mind wanting what I can’t have, what I’ll never have.
I torture my body by allowing pure fucking ecstasy to brand me from the inside out, knowing it could never be this good with anyone else.
I roll my hips, holding that perfect pale green gaze and clench around his cock, seeing the bliss roll across his features.
“This. This is what I want.” He bounces me on his cock, pushing me up against the tile wall. I hiss when he does and slice my eyes to slits because the tile’s hard at my back. “You’re what I want, Bright.”
I check out, ignoring his words. I ignore how they gut me and heal me at the same time. I ignore the way his eyes caress over my face. I ignore this act that could make me feel anything. And I take his cock, take my pleasure, allow it to singe me in a way I’m branded forever by Elias Finchley, doomed to be ruined forever for any other man.
“Baby?” He stops moving, and I’m fully impaled on his thick cock. “Brighton?”
“Don’t stop.” I try to lift off him to move, but he holds me down on him.
He searches my eyes. “Baby, what is it?”
“Nothing. Eli, you need to move. I need to move. I want to come again. I need to come again.”
“No.” The look on his face stops me dead in my tracks. “Bright, why are you crying?”
Fuck my life.
EIGHT
OIL WRESTLING AN EEL
ELIAS
“I’m not crying.”
“I’m looking at you, Brighton.”
“You’re mistaken. It must be the shower.” She’s lying through her teeth and staring me in the face as she does it.
