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And then he loses it. Uncaring of everything around him, he grabs both my hips and pushes all the way.
“Fuck!” I scream. “Elliot…”
I don’t understand what hurts and what makes me feel like I’m in heaven anymore. I just take it. I let him use me and drag out my pleasure from his violence.
When his fingers force their way between the table and my hips, when they press against my clit, I can’t hold it.
“Scream it, my love. Say who owns you. I want the whole of the North Shore to know Jade Alva takes my dick like the good slut she is.”
“Elliot,” I moan. “Elliot…Elliot…Elliot!” I know my scream resonates inside the entire house.
He explodes inside me the same way I do around him.
Elliot Pearson scares me. For all the things he does, and all the things he is.
He scares me because his hands are warm, yet his heart is cold, but mainly because he makes my own heart beat to an unhealthy rhythm. The kind I never want to feel around someone like him.
When he pulls out, he lays on top of me. I can’t breathe, my ribs killing me, but the post-orgasm high makes me unable to voice anything.
It’s his phone ringing that interrupts our silence.
He groans a complaint and casually answers, “Boss.”
It’s Kay. There’s nothing that can take me out of my blissful state like the reminder that Kayla King is just one call away.
When I try to push myself off the table, Elliot flattens me back with a hand between my shoulders. I stay there, boneless under his palm while he talks to her with his bright voice.
The tone is jovial, but because he’s not facing her, he doesn’t bother with a fake smile and a beaming face. That’s the real Elliot right in front of me, speaking fake cheery words. His voice is the act he puts on, his blank expression and empty eyes, the man he really is.
A shiver runs down my spine. I’m playing a dangerous game with a dangerous man. It’s unfortunate he’s the only one planning on keeping me alive. Unfortunate that I need him to survive in this town.
He hangs up and smiles down at me. Is that real? That smile?
Brushing strands off my sweaty forehead, he leaves a kiss there. Isthatreal?
He traces my damp cheek with his thumb, following the same trail my tears did. Grazing the scar at the corner of my eye, he presses another kiss there. He drags his nose against my neck, inhaling my scent, whispering how proud of me he is.
And with a flat voice that sounds more like him than anything else he’s ever intoned, he murmurs, “I missed you, my love. All my life, I missed you.”
Is that…real?
When he straightens up again, I feel like I’m coming back from a trip on ecstasy. What just happened?
My ass cheeks burn, my pussy aches beautifully. My brain is too foggy to process anything.
And Elliot is back to being himself. Or his fake self. Whatever he is in his everyday life.
“I have to meet Kay. Clean up this mess, eat breakfast, and work on the van.” He pins me with a stare. “That’s it, Jade. Nothing else until I’m back.”
I nod, and he lets go of me. He helps me up and kisses my cheek before leaving the kitchen.
I hear the front door close and stay still, staring at the stove for I don’t know how long. What the hell just happened? Why does it feel so good and wrong at the same time?
I’m still in my head when I kneel on the floor with a dustpan and brush. I don’t hear him walk into the kitchen, only see two black boots enter my line of vision and crush the shards of plates left on the floor.
“Tell me, Mi Cielo, what did he do to you?”
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