Page 8 of Breaking Him

He paled. “Sorry…”

I shook my head. “No. I liked it. Don’t apologize.”

“You did?” His gruff question had my heart squeezing. It also had liquid heat sliding down the crack of my ass, had me throbbing so hard and deep inside it was like my sex had its own heartbeat.

I released a shaky breath. “Can’t you feel how wet I am, Eli? That’s for you. You make me so hot I ache.”

His wild stare dropped between my thighs again, and he tore through the other side of my underwear before I could drag in another breath. Then he growled and pressed his thumb between my swollen lips, sliding up to my clit, then down to tease my slick entrance. I collapsed against the couch cushions, arching so hard my back hurt. It didn’t matter, though; the only thing I was aware of was the ache between my thighs, the burning need to come, to have one of those thick fingers shove deep inside me. I whimpered again, begging, “Please. Please, Elijah.”

A tormented sound burst from him, his rough palm covering me, applying much-needed pressure. My tightly shut eyes drifted open as I tried to grind down on his palm.

He leaned over me, eyes dark with lust and wide with concern, with a helplessness that tore me apart. “Tell me,” he rasped. “Tell me what to do to make it better, darlin’.”

Chapter Four

His deep, smoky voice slid through me, adding to the out-of-control feeling coiled tight in my belly. He was killing me—the way he moved, his harsh breathing, it all just sent me higher. I was nothing but sweet, delicious agony, and every twitch, every subtle movement of that wide palm resting against my sensitive flesh, made it hurt so much more. Made it so much better.

I’d never experienced hunger like this, or this extreme intensity. What Elijah had me feeling caused a pleasure-pain that was almost too much to take. I panted, trying to catch my breath. He was still staring down at me, eyes dark, intent, concerned. He ground his palm against me again and I cried out, lifting my hips as best I could so I could grind back. My skin was fevered, slick, tight, my whole body throbbing, aching.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he demanded roughly.

I furiously shook my head and reached down, wrapping my fingers around his wrist, holding him there, scared he’d go away. I’d die if he stopped. “I’m close, Eli,” I managed to gasp out, then stared him in the eyes. “Push your finger inside me…you know…you know what I need…” A wave of indescribable heat pounded through me, cutting off my words. I squeezed my eyes shut, undulating against the cushions. No longer human. A thing, a creature. Sex and need, nothing else, nothing more. The only thoughts in my head now were of Eli, of how badly I needed him to get me off.

He tugged the bottom of my shirt, and my eyes shot open. He gripped the material in his fingers and dragged it up, pulling it off completely with one hand. His gaze dropped to my chest, and without a word, he slid those fingers under the front of my bra and tore it off like he had my panties. My breasts bounced free and my hard nipples pebbled further, tightened almost unbearably when the air hit them—when Eli’s heated stare landed on them.

Then I couldn’t think anymore, could only concentrate on breathing and not hyperventilating when he spread me open with his fingers and pushed one inside. At the same time his other hand engulfed one of my breasts, squeezing and tugging.

“Oh God. That feels so good.” My eyes drifted closed, and I was washed away on a wave of pleasure. I rolled my hips against his hand, encouraging him to go deeper, move faster—to fuck me with his fingers until I screamed.

“Open your eyes,” he gritted.

They felt weighted down, but I forced them open. His voice held a rough command that I found impossible to ignore. His dark chocolate stare trapped mine, and I held my breath, biting my lip as he slid out of me, then pushed back in, this time adding a second finger. He stretched me with his fingers, shoving deeper, moving faster.

“Shit,” I said on a gasp. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” My eyes were still so heavy, but the way he watched me demanded I not look away, that all my focus stay on him. It was intimate, making my belly squirm, and I was powerless to do anything but give him what he was asking from me.

His gaze turned more intense, more focused, then he slid his thumb over my clit, the broad callused pad pressing into the oversensitive bundle of nerves. I bucked and moaned, near out of my damn mind.

“Talk to me, Abigail. Tell me if it feels good.” His voice was gruff, urgent, with an undercurrent of concern.

“Yes!” I dug my nails into his skin, close to begging.

His breath came out on a shaky exhale, then he leaned over me, using some of his weight to hold me down, and finger-fucked me deep and fast.

He didn’t take his eyes off me once, watching my reactions to his touch, to what he was doing to me. He slid his thumb over my clit again, and I shuddered, a sob bursting past my lips. Something flashed through his gaze then, something I couldn’t name, couldn’t process, before he dipped his head and sucked one of my hard, aching nipples into his mouth, surrounding it in wet heat, and tugged with his lips.

I screamed, my orgasm slamming into me so hard it felt like an out-of-body experience. My inner muscles clamped down on his fingers repeatedly, and I moaned and writhed and whimpered through every spasm, lost to sensation.

When I finally came back to myself, Elijah’s harsh breaths filled my ears. He was moving, quick, jerky. I opened my eyes, and another moan slid past my lips. He was hovering over me, fist planted in the cushion by my head, shirt off, jeans undone—cock in hand.

The vein in his neck pulsed heavy and hard, strain lining his rugged features. He gasped when our eyes met, widening like he’d been hit by a dose of reality. Like he’d been knocked out of the haze of lust we’d both been submerged in.

“I’m sorry…” He made a sound, deep and raw. “But I have to…”

I shook my head. “Don’t…don’t ever apologize for taking what you need. Not from me.” Then I did something I’d never done before, never cared to, but now the idea had me burning up all over again. Reaching down, I grabbed his hips. “Come here.” I scooted down as he shuffled up. His cock was unbearably hard, thick and veined, the tip slick. I wanted it inside me more than anything, but I didn’t know if Eli was ready for that. So instead I gripped his dick, slicking pre-come down his ridged length, lubing him up as best as I could, and guided him to my chest. His cock was heavy and hot, resting between my tits, and I grabbed the aching mounds and squeezed them tight around his iron-hard length.

He hissed. “What are you…?” I squeezed harder. “Ah…shit.” His hips snapped forward.

“That’s it, Eli…move,” I encouraged.