Chapter 103

Agnes

The cab driver practically dumped us off in front of the estate, hardly giving Elijah time to hand him a wad of cash before he was speeding away. My cheeks were flushed, my skirt rumpled around my thighs and my lipstick smeared.

We’d hardly been the pristine picture of an elegant Alpha and Luna in the back of that cab; rather, the moment I had looked into Elijah’s eyes and saw the heavy desire lingering in their depths, I’d practically thrown myself at him.

I couldn’t help it. I felt overcome with desire for Elijah, my chest heaving and my skin coated in a fine layer of sweat from dancing. All logic had flown out the cab window when I looked up through my lashes and saw him staring at me, at my lips, at my breasts.

I had to kiss him. It was as if a primal force inside of me wasn’t giving me an option to kiss Elijah again, to close the distance between us, but rather a command.

And I had obeyed.

We’d fumbled with each other the entire way back to the estate, a tangle of lips and teeth and hands. Now we stood at the end of the driveway, laughing breathlessly as the cab sped off into the night with a screech of tires.

I never expected it to go that far. And now that we were in the cool night air, I thought that would have been the extent of it—yet another stolen moment, dragging one another too close to the edge until the real world came crashing back.

But when I turned Elijah was looking at me again with that intense look in his eyes.

And then his mouth was crashing into mine once more. I lost my balance and would have fallen from the impact had his arm not snaked around my waist and tugged me flush against him.

Before I could even begin to comprehend what was happening, his tongue was almost forcibly parting my lips for purchase. It swept into my mouth like a hurricane, dragging across my teeth, my gums, the roof of my mouth.

I moaned into him, unable to contain the small sound of pleasure.

My moan only seemed to fuel him more, and suddenly he was scooping me up into his arms, wrapping my legs around his torso, and carrying me up to the house—all while keeping his lips firmly pressed to mine.

We didn’t give ourselves a moment to breathe, let alone think as Elijah fumbled for the keys and unlocked the door. Our mouths remained locked, tongues battling for dominance, swirling around one another..

Somewhere through the haze of pleasure, I heard the slam of the front door, the creaking of the stairs, and then the creak of my bedroom door. The next thing I knew, he was setting me down, still enraptured by my mouth, and his hands began to push at my clothes.

Pulling back just enough for air, I helped him remove my clothes, first pulling my shirt over my head and then letting my skirt fall around my ankles. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes sweeping across my bra and pantyhose, then down to the red heels I still wore on my feet.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as he drank me in. Then, dropping to his knees in front of me, he grabbed my hips and pulled me closer.

I gasped, surprised, as he tore into my pantyhose like butter—revealing my blank panties underneath. Before I could react, his fingers were pressing against the soft flesh hidden behind that lace, moving in slow, wide circles. He dragged his thumb clean up the center, and even through my panties, his finger came away glistening.

“Do you always get this wet for me?” he murmured, glancing up at me through heavily lidded eyes.

My breath caught, and I couldn’t answer. I could only nod. It was true, though; every time our lips met, every time we exchanged stolen glances or forbidden touches, my thighs turned to water.

Elijah let out a sound that was closer to a huff of disbelief than anything else, but he didn’t speak again. Then, suddenly, he moved forward and kissed me there—right where I was the wettest.

I bit my lip, my fingers instinctively curling into his hair as his kiss lingered against my most sensitive spot. His tongue darted out, briefly lapping across my inner thighs, first one side then the other.

My legs nearly gave out beneath me as he tugged my panties aside and kissed me again with an open mouth. If it weren’t for his free arm hugging the backs of my trembling knees, I might have actually collapsed that time—especially when his mouth suckled at my clit, tongue swirling around it over and over.

“E-Elijah,” I breathed as his tongue then moved down, straight down the center of my pussy, then slipped it inside.

Inside.

This was a bad idea. I knew it would only make matters even more complicated if I let this continue, but I couldn’t stop him. Not when his tongue was dipping and swirling inside of me, filling me more than I’d expected. And especially not when he slipped in first one finger, then two when he felt my muscles relax around him.

He feasted on me like that, right there on the floor, holding me upright with one arm. I dug my fingers into his scalp, yanking at his hair, which only elicited low, guttural moans from him that rumbled into my pelvis. “Agnes,” he murmured into me, the word sending a shudder of pleasure through my body.

I came on him before I even had a chance to think, my body trembling in violent waves. Only then did Elijah stand, grinning, and scoop me up again. His mouth crashed against mine once more as he carried me to the bed, tasting like me.

Slowly, too slowly, he peeled away my torn pantyhose and soaked panties. Then my bra, baring me completely before him—fully nude while he was still dressed.

I propped myself up on one elbow, desperately reaching for his belt. But he swatted my hand away with a drunken, lopsided grin. Then, with a cheeky look in his eyes, he picked up my discarded heels and slid them back onto my feet.

My cheeks heated under his gaze. I was wearing nothing before, and yet now, with the heels, I felt even more naked.

With painstaking slowness, almost to the point of causing me to whimper with frustration, Elijah then moved off the bed and removed his clothes. First the belt, then the tie, then the shirt—his suit jacket was nowhere to be found, likely forgotten in the club—and then the shoes and trousers.

Only once he was hovering between my thighs once more, wearing nothing but his boxers, did he let me undress him.

Biting my lip, I slipped my fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers. His cock, far larger and harder than I’d anticipated, popped out the moment I tugged them down. My face must have turned beet red, because Elijah’s face split into an even wider grin.

Neither of us spoke as he slipped himself between my thighs, the considerable head of his cock rubbing clean up the center of my pussy. Not that we needed to, of course. And maybe it was better that way, to let this stay primal, physical. Because I feared if we spoke, we might realize just what we were doing.

The first inch of him was like heaven and hell at the same time. He was so large that I had to give myself time to adjust. Soon enough, before he’d even pushed all the way in, I felt so full that even my cheeks were tingling with the sensation.

When he finally filled me all the way, I felt like I might explode—but in the most delicious of ways.

Elijah hunched himself over me, propping himself on his elbows on either side of my head. His hands gently swept my mussed hair out of my face, but there was an aching fire in his eyes that made me throb even more with anticipation.

He was restraining himself.

“How do you like it?” he murmured, his lips grazing my neck as he spoke. I shivered. “Do you like it rough? Gentle? In between?”

I swallowed hard and whispered thickly, “Rough.”

Elijah’s eyes lit up, partially with surprise but also with excitement. I’d never told him before just how rough I liked it, how I’d often pictured the two of us moving together beneath the moonlight. He was big, maybe a little too big, but I didn’t care. I wanted to feel his body slam against mine, slick skin slipping together.

And with another low growl, Elijah delivered. He started slow at first, teasing strokes all the way to the tip of his cock. Then, once I was begging for more, throbbing beneath him, he went faster. Harder.

My back arched away from the bed, fingernails digging into his shoulders, tugging on his hair as he worked himself into me. My name on his lips was like angels singing, or maybe devils—or maybe both.

When we’d both nearly reached our peak, I coyly flipped over onto my belly, arching my hips up so that he hit my most sensitive spots. He dug his fingers into my hips and ass, moaning my name, then released inside of me not long after with a shudder and a groan that vibrated into my spine as he hunched over and clamped his teeth around my neck.

After that, we both collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and sated. He pulled out of me, warm seed running down my leg, leaving me throbbing and somehow wanting for more.

I half expected him to leave after that. In fact, when I limped into the bathroom to clean myself and came back out a few moments later, I thought he might be gone—that the brief respite from our frustrations was over.

But he was still there, waiting for me, the white sheets draped across his hips. He looked like a painting laying there in the shaft of moonlight.

Without a word, he held his arm out for me, inviting me to him. I blushed and crawled into bed with him, and he tugged me against his side.

We fell asleep like that, tangled up together with only the sheets to keep us warm. And neither of us moved all night.