Changing Everything (Forgiving Lies #2.5)(39)
She laughed shakily. “I can’t believe we just did that out here.”
“I told you, Pay, no one’s here.”
She tried to give me a stern look, but couldn’t hold it. “And I told you, someone could’ve shown up.”
“And they would’ve gotten one hell of a view.”
“You’re horrible.” She laughed.
“I meant the ocean.” I smirked when she elbowed my stomach. I ran my fingers over her sensitive bud, and my blood heated when her legs fell open and her eyes automatically shut, and a breathy whimper left her. “You think I’m going to let anyone else see you like that? This, these faces you make, and those sounds that come from you are for me, Paisley. No one else.”
“No one,” she agreed.
October 3, 2013
Paisley
MY EYES BLINKED open to a dark room, and I sat up quickly as I looked around for Eli. I was in his room, in his bed, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t even remember getting back in Eli’s truck to drive home from the lookout point. Looking at the nightstand, I started leaning over to grab for his cell phone lying there when the sound of the running water registered in my mind, and my body relaxed.
Checking to see that it was a little after two in the morning, I scrambled out of his bed and into the bathroom. My eyes widened, and my stomach heated and curled in the most incredible way when I saw him standing under the spray of the shower with his hands running over his hair and the suds dripping down his body.
I knew I should go back to the bedroom, try to go back to sleep, or at least just wait for him to come in there—but even as I acknowledged those thoughts, I was slowly taking off my clothes and leaving them near the door.
Eli jerked back when I opened the door. “Jesus—Pay.. . . what are you doing?” he asked as his eyes ran over my body.
“Can I join you?”
He swallowed roughly, and his eyes darted up to my face and back my body. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped an octave. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I know you don’t think so, but I don’t really care what you think right now.”
Ignoring the way his voice conveyed his warning when he said my name, I stepped in under the hot spray, and finally allowed myself to look away from his face. Even with the nights over the last week and a half when he’d slept in his boxer briefs, I couldn’t have been prepared for Eli like this. He was beautiful, masculine, and as I’d thought so many times before, built like a god. My fingers twitched as my eyes followed the lines from his chest, down his stomach, to that muscled V on his hips, to his erection.
I stepped forward and let my fingers run over his body, and my hands became bolder when a low groan sounded in his chest the lower I got; but just before I got to his muscled V, he grabbed my hands.
“If I let you go any lower, I’m not going to stop you from continuing, and you need to stop.”
“Why, Eli?”
“I’ve told you, these two weeks are about only you.”
“This is what I want,” I argued.
Molding his mouth to mine, he growled “Not tonight” around the kiss as he pressed me against the wall.
“Not fair,” I whimpered when his hand teased me and spread my legs. “Eli—”
“Your weeks, Paisley,” he reminded me as he lowered himself to his knees, and lifted one of my legs over his shoulder.
“But you’re just— Oh God,” I moaned, and I wanted to punch him for knowing how to get his way.
My fingers gripped at the slippery, wet tile uselessly as his tongue reduced me to moans and needy sounds for the second time in just a couple hours. With only being on one leg, it was all I could do to stay standing as my body instantly responded to him.
The steam in the room, the constant spray from the shower, Eli’s wet shoulders between my thighs, his fingers spreading me wider, and his tongue’s assault had the tight knot in my stomach building faster than it ever had before.
The hand holding on to my back started lowering, and it wasn’t until his finger was pushing against me that I even realized what he was doing.
“Please,” I panted, and Eli chuckled darkly—the sound sending small shockwaves through my body.
His fingers continued until they took the place of his tongue, dipping inside me a few times before he trailed them back, circling around the place I was craving him—and yet didn’t want him.
Just as slowly as the first time, Eli pushed one finger inside me as his tongue went back to licking and sucking me.
I cried out, and again wanted to get away from the intrusion, but at the same time my next plea for him to go deeper was on the tip of my tongue.
It no longer felt like there was a knot in my stomach. It felt like there was white-hot lava, and my entire body was vibrating in anticipation of what was coming—and just as it got closer, he would back off, making me groan in frustration until I was whimpering again.
It was the sweetest suffering I’d ever been through.
I came with a loud cry, and wasn’t sure if I was still standing or had collapsed onto the floor. I wasn’t sure of anything other than the pleasure and heat that were coursing through my body. I couldn’t get enough of it . . . couldn’t get enough of him.
My face scrunched together and a whimper bubbled up from my chest when he removed his finger. He gently set my foot back on the tile of the shower floor before standing to face me; the entire time he kept one hand on my waist like he was afraid I would fall. Which actually felt like a very real possibility right now.