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“Pull up your skirt.” He says, tugging on my nipples even as I bend over, his voice raspy now. I gather as much fabric as I can. Then I feel his hand come around my inner thigh, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pulls upward slowly. Too slowly. “Are you ready for me? You want me to find out? Hm?” I nod, having significant trouble staying upright against him, and embarrassed about that fact. He cups my whole center in his hand, again, not gentle at all. I feel him start to move my panties aside. “Say it.” He starts to rub my entrance with his fingers and I can’t even make out the sensations. I’ve never been touched there, not even by my own hands.
I start to shake with the stimulation and the nerves. Is this how overwhelming this is supposed to feel? How am I supposed to react? Respond? I can’t think straight. He groans in my ear. “You’re already soaking my hand. Say the words.Ahora, Eleanna!”
“Yes!” Suddenly, he thrusts what feels like his whole hand into me. It hurts a little and scares me a lot. Again, I can’t even make sense of the feelings in my own body. My shaking gets worse.
“Shit.” He whispers, then his hand is gone and he slowly, firmly turns me around to face him. He grits his teeth. “You lied to me.”
I shake my head, “I didn’t.” I didn’t say I wasn’t a virgin. I just didn’t answer him that night. But he stares at me until I finally nod. That spot in his jaw ticks and I pull up my hands to cover my chest.
“No.” He stops my hands. He stares at my chest and licks his lips. “No,wife.You barged in here, angry and gorgeous and irritating as hell and you started this. Now, you’re going to finish it.”
“What does—“
“Shh, shhh,” he says, but it’s not dismissive, surprisingly. It’s soft, calming. He grabs my right hand and moves it down to where his hand just was. He guides my own fingers over me and shows me a motion with my fingers. But I’ve never done even this, and it will show. My shoulders are up in my ears and I know I’m red as a rose. His other hand comes up to hold my face, supporting my head in his large palm.
“Eleanna, listen to me. You don’t need to be nervous or embarrassed. You are a fucking fantasy. I am going to watch you touch yourself and come in my pants like a teenager. So just relax and feel it. Does it feel good?” I think I manage to say some sort of yes. “Good. Good, Ellie. Keep doing that. Go harder and faster if you want, just don’t stop.”
His guiding fingers leave me and go to his pants. Keeping one hand on my face, the other undoes his fly and shoves his hand directly into his boxers. His eyes flip between meeting mine and watching my fingers. My eyes can’t peel away from what I know he’s doing with his own hand. I can’t see inside the fabric, but I watch the motion. He pulls on himself fast and hard, whilelooking at me.While watchingme.
“Yes, faster, Ellie. Just like that.” I look up at his face, which is a sweating mess. He is completely, unraveled. His mouth hangs open and he stares at my wet fingers. I moan without meaning to. “Fuck me.” He mutters, licking his lips. “Yes. Harder now. Close your eyes and focus.” But I can’t close my eyes, I just watch his hair falling over his face and his mouth moving, telling me what to do and my whole body starts to seize. His eyes jump up to mine and he tightens his grip around my face. “Yes, Ellie. Dammit, you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He says the words like he’s angry but I cry out as my first orgasm rips through me.
“Mark? Mark!” I grip his bicep with my free hand and can’t look away from his eyes that bore into me. He cries out his own guttural moan and goes tense. He doesn’t look away from my eyes either. I watch him watch me as I slow my fingers and the waves of pleasure finally subside. The urge to kiss him, to hug him, overtakes me. I look at his mouth, but when he sees my gaze shift, he cuts our connection.
He pulls back his hand and stands up straight. I hear the zipper of his pants.
“Don’t lie to me again. I could’ve hurt you.” As the words come out of his mouth they get colder and colder. It’s like I can hear him retreating, even as he stands right in front of me. I pull my dress straps back up my arms to cover myself as he goes on. “I’m a cold, heartless bastard, but I don’t prey on women, I don’t hurt women like that. Ever.” I feel my face flinch at the mention of other women. He catches it too. He cocks his head, considering. “Listen, if you want to be fuck buddies while we are conveniently stuck together under the same roof? Fine with me. Now, I need to shower.” He starts to take a step towards his bedroom door.
“No other women, then. While we live together.” I try to make it sound like a demand, but it comes out more as a question. And I hate that.
“Fine. I have an early morning. Goodnight.” He holds his door open and gestures for me to go through it.
He is finally showing another part of his true self with me. He’s not smiling, not joking. He’s cold and direct and honest. And he let me see under the surface.
So why does it feel like my heart is breaking apart even faster now than it was before?
CHAPTER 20
Eleanna
“I dunno wa you don sa thee,” Luna says, mouth totally full.
“Same.” Mia says.
“Of course you understood that. Can either of you chew with your mouths closed?” I scold, but I’m smiling from ear to ear. I can’t believe my two favorite people are here in my new home. In my new kitchen. Both of which they wholeheartedly approve of, even though luxury is common place to all of us. They do like Mark’s more modern style compared to the ornate homes of both our parents.
“IsaidI don’t know why you don’t sell these. Open a bakery. They’re orgasmic, Ellie.” Luna says as she grabs another flaky bacon pastry, which I haven’t named yet. They’re a buttery cross between a biscuit and a croissant, filled with both savory meat and sweet maple flavors.
“I’m glad you like them,” I reply.
“Opening a bakery would take time away from her precious babies.” Mia teases.
“What babies!” I turn and gape at her.
Luna sides with me, “Yeah, she’s not getting pregnant yet…” She jerks her head back to me. “Wait, you’re not, are you?”
“No, no, definitely not.” I start to fumble with the tray I take out of the oven. “Mia, how are things at home?”
