AllFreeNovel
Share Us
SHAWN
My head falls backward, my back arches and Elvis’s fingers grip my hips. He slams me down. Digging my nails into his chest, I let him have control. I’ve already come, but he’s moving me the way he wants, and it’s so damn sexy that I can feel myself climbing toward another release.
It’s so much, too much, almost, and I can’t help but whimper as I climb higher and higher toward another release. I want to come. I can feel it, my body on the edge, and I don’t know how it’s possible. I’ve already come, yet I want it again.
I need it like I need my next breath.
I grip his chest tighter, my nails no doubt on the verge of drawing blood, but if it bothers him, he doesn’t say anything. He uses my body to jack himself, and I’ve never felt sexier than in this moment. I don’t understand it, but I’m trying not to get lost in my head. I want to feel.
I want to feel him.
I want to feel us.
Then one of his hands leaves my hip and slides up the center of my chest, his fingers curling around the front of my throat.
“Fuck me, Shawn,” he growls.
And I do.
My hips roll. I take over the motion and rhythm he’s set. Then his other hand slides across my hip and I feel his fingers between us, and that’s when his thumb presses against my clit. He doesn’t move it, just holds it still while I fuck him, shamelessly rubbing my clit against his finger as I bring myself closer and closer to the edge.
When I’m so close that I can taste it, he flips me onto my back, his hands leaving the front of my throat and my clit as he takes that moment to fuck me—hard.
His hips move, he thrusts, and his pelvis grinds against my clit once, twice, three times, and I come.
Hard.
So hard that my vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. My body jerks. It bucks as the orgasm pulses throughout my entire body. If Elvis notices that I’m completely losing my shit, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stays buried inside of me and lowers his head to touch his lips to mine, and then he begins to move in and out of me… lazily, beautifully.
Wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his hips, I hold him to me. When he stops moving, he stays planted inside of me, lifting his head, his blue eyes looking into mine. It feels like he’s gazing into my soul.
“Yes, I was jealous,” I confess. “But I want you to unwind with me.” Then I decide to get vulnerable with him, although I feel as if I’ve been pretty open in the short time I’ve known him already. “I don’t want to be my mother,” I whisper.
He doesn’t say anything, but he does frown slightly and arch a brow as he waits for me to explain my words a bit more. So I decide that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’ll hurt nobody by telling him the truth, not even myself. Because if I’m rejected, I know it will be a “him” problem, not “me.”
“I don’t want to be completely obsessed with a man, crawl for him, only to be treated like shit and look like an idiot. I respect myself more than that.”
I’m not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it is not joy. Instead, he rears back and pulls out of me, forcing my arms and legs to unwrap from his body. He lies beside me, and I feel his eyes on my profile, but I don’t look at him.
“You don’t know me well enough yet, but trust me when I tell you I’m not going to treat you like shit, and when you crawl for me, it will end with you coming.”
Slowly, I turn my head so I can look into his eyes. He’s staring at me, that blue gaze of his instantly consuming me in ways I don’t think are healthy. Reaching out, I extend my fingers and slide the tips of them down his clipped-short, bearded face.
“You’ll hurt me, Elvis,” I whisper. “You’re a man who lives a certain kind of way, and I want someone who will be faithful, monogamous. I don’t think that’s who you are, and I’m not going to change you. I don’t want to.”
He frowns, his lips pressing together in a thin line, and those pretty blue eyes of his turn almost black. He leans forward, wrapping his hand around my wrist, his fingers flexing and squeezing hard as he does.
“I’m going to hurt you, sweetness. That’s fuckin’ life. This goes good with us, you’ll get what you need, and so will I. There will be no steamrolling someone’s wants and desires. We’re together, and neither of us is more important than the other.”
God.
I absolutely love the sound of that.
He shifts so that he’s on top of me, and he slams my arm above my head, pushing it into the pillow. Elvis lowers his head until his lips touch mine, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. He lifts his head slightly, his eyes searching mine again, and then his lips curve up into a grin.
“You’re mine, sweetness. There’s no out on this. My woman, my old lady, my fuckin’ cunt.”
I should hate the sound of that.
