Page 82 of One Week
His words have rendered me completely speechless.
“I can take you against the wall,” he breathes into my ear. “No one can see us here. It’s what you want, right?! A good wall fuck.”
God, I want to. I really want to. Gabriella Moore would never, not in a million years. But I would. I definitely would.
He takes the Daim bar from me, and sets it on the ground next to my feet. I’m still frozen. He falls to his knees and works my fly. I can’t believe this is happening. He peels my jeans over my ass, along with my cotton panties. I let out a moan and arch my back. My head is pressed against the wall, and I stare up, right into the darkness of the night. He slides my jeans down my legs, and removes a single shoe, and peels off a single leg.
Damn, I should have worn a dress or a skirt.
He grabs the underside of my thigh and lifts one leg as he presses his hot mouth on my pussy. I almost die right there. But he doesn’t stay there long. He’s playing. He’s teasing.
He stands and towers over me again. I claw at his jaw, lowering his mouth to mine. I want all of him. I can’t get enough of his kiss. I feel the first drop of rain on my forehead as I reach for his fly. I fiddle with the button, but my hand is shaking for some reason. My pulse races as I dig into his boxers and wrap my hand around him — he’s so hot, and I can’t wait to feel his warmth inside me.
Another drop of rain. And another.
He digs a condom out of his pocket. My heart is still pounding — I’m not sure if it’s being out here in public that has set it into overdrive. John and I have never done this — sex outside, in public.
I fucking love it.
Before long, it starts pouring. The rain is cold and comes down heavy, but Eli and I couldn’t care less. His kiss tastes even sweeter in the rain. He grabs my ass tightly as he sinks into me — he’s rough and hard, but I love every second. “God… I love fucking you,” he breathes against my ear. “You can’t go back. I need to fuck you like this every day, Gabriella.”
Yes.I know exactly what he means.
He pounds harder into me. My thighs are locked around his hips, and I try to pull away from the wall because it hurts. But this feels so damn good.
“I want to hear you come,” he growls. “I want you to be loud.”
I don’t want to be loud… not here. But I feel my climax coming so hard, and I just want to get lost in it. I close my eyes when it finally hits me, and I scream into the night, into the heavy downpour.
It’s awkward post-sex. There’s no sweet holding or pillow talk — we’re in a filthy dark alley, and it’s cold and pouring. I bend down and pick up my giant chocolate bar — it’s drenched. I know that every time I look at that chocolate bar from then on, I’ll think about the wild wall sex. The kids better eat it fast, but it’s 2 kg of chocolate — I’ll definitely need to help.
We run the whole way, and as soon as we get home, I exhale, glad to be inside, and sheltered from the cold rain. Floyd is thrilled to see us, and jumps up on the both of us. We dash to the bedroom and quickly strip out of our wet clothes. I’m so wet, I’m dripping. Eli comes back with just a towel around his hips. I gawk at the lovely lines of his torso and shoulders, and that dark trail leading to his navel. He dries my hair with a huge bath towel, and wraps me up in it — I feel like a little kid. He holds me tightly in his arms. I circle my arms around his waist, and he leans down and presses his lips against mine.
We make love. Again! This time around, it’s slow and sweet. I can’t remember the last time John and I had sex twice in a row like that, or even twice in the same day. I suppose I’m making up for lost time.
We drift off to sleep, lying in bed, Floyd at our feet. “What we’re doing…” Eli says. “It’s not fucking.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
WE SHARE A LAZY MORNING. Fuzzy slippers. Coffee. Crosswords. Banter. “Do you ever work?” I tease.
He smiles wide. “I work all the time,” he tells me. “Sixty hours a week sometimes.”
“You took the week off for me?”
He grins. “That’s the great thing about being your own boss. I can rearrange my schedule and take time off when I need to.”
My feet rest on his thighs and he’s toying with the ears of my doggie slippers. “Do you ever go on vacation?” I ask.
“Never.”
“All work and no play makes Eli a dull boy.”
He turns to me and smirks. “Oh, so you’re calling me dull now?”
“Oh, you’re anything but dull.”
I wish he were. Then maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. I know saying goodbye is going to be tough. It hurts just thinking about it.
