21. Ellis

CHAPTER 21

ELLIS

Gabe's massive body is hot against mine, and the grip his arms have around my middle is inescapable. My bed is smaller than his, but he's insisted on sleeping in here for the past few weeks, sneaking in after Elliot goes to bed. I'm just happy he's sleeping again at all, and I admit to sleeping better too, despite being restrained by a huge, snuggly furnace.

Usually I wake up alone, so wrung out that I never notice Gabe's alarm that he sets for four in the morning. It gives him enough time to beat off in the shower and get dressed before Elliot's alarm goes off, and then he can be smug about being ready for their morning run first.

I tense for a moment before remembering that Elliot left to spend a couple of nights at his girlfriend's house. It's Spring Break, but the baseball team doesn't get the same time off that the rest of the school does. They had a seven-inning shutout during their game yesterday. Elliot left almost right after, and following the team lunch to celebrate an undefeated season so far, Gabe and I came back to the apartment and took advantage of the privacy. Gabe managed to fit his giant body in the shower with me and washed every inch of my body before pinning my hands against the shower wall and tongue fucking my as s until I came. Then we studied, mostly, trying to get ahead on the classwork that Gabe has finally caught up on. Afterwards we laid on the couch and pretended to watch a movie, knowing there's no way we could pay attention. I tried, but the tension between us was too thick. I gave in to his touch, and Gabe ended up jacking me off under the blanket while dry humping my ass until we both came in our pants and needed to shower again.

Despite climbing into my bed every night, sucking orgasms from my body like he needs the nutrients, and falling asleep wrapped around me, Gabe still won't let me touch or kiss him. I think it's his way of keeping his distance, so there's less to feel guilty about. It's not what I intended when I coaxed him into touching me again. I thought once he was comfortable enough, once he knew how much I still wanted him, that he'd come around.

Slowly and carefully, I turn around in his hold so I'm facing him. His body seems to instinctively curve around mine, making concessions wherever needed to fit me against him. With my head pressed to his chest, I weave our legs together. He stirs, pulling me closer. His morning wood presses against mine, and we both groan. His eyes flutter open before he gives me a sleepy grin.

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing, baby," he says, his voice gravelly and sexy.

I push my hips into him again, and he shudders before rolling me beneath him. The bed creaks under his weight, and I sink into the mattress, writhing against him. It's hard to be disappointed when the weight of him feels so right. I pout when he lifts himself up on his arms and knees, nosing at my collarbone. He rolls his hips into mine, the cotton of his boxer briefs against my bare skin.

"You have something for me this morning, beautiful?" he murmurs into my neck before pressing a kiss against my pulse .

"Why won't you let me touch you?" I rasp as his lips and tongue trail down my body, pausing to lick and tug on my nipple ring. My fingers rake into his hair, twisting into the short locks as he makes his way down my body. The light skim of his lips over my hip bones tickles, and he tortures me for far too long.

"Look at this pretty little cock, so wet and ready for me." His broad shoulders push between my legs to tease my cock. Pre-cum leaks from my slit, pearls of it dripping down my shaft. Gabe's tongue captures some of the droplets, licking from my base to my tip. His big hands grip the back of my thighs, and he pushes them up so my knees are nearly touching my chest.

"And this perfect pink hole, just begging for my tongue. I'm going to eat you for breakfast, baby, and chase it down with all that sweet cream you give me."

It's not until after I've come so hard I forget my own name that I realize how well he's weaponized his distraction techniques. When I get my bearings again, I pull his hair by the roots until he looks up at me. He still doesn't answer, and I can't help but feel disappointed. I'd hoped that opening the door would get him more comfortable again, that it would make him want me. The way he looks at me and can't keep his hands off me suggests that I'm right, not to mention the near permanent erection he has around me. But maybe I'm wrong?

I sit up and pull back. He lets me, and I can't decide if I appreciate the respect for my space, or if I'm disappointed that he doesn't yank me back down under him and take what he wants from me. Like he used to, before the blindfold came off.

We get up, and Gabe sends me to the shower first. I narrow my eyes at him, annoyed that he's not coming in with me. As I wash the remnants of the night before from my body, I concoct a plan.

I'm going to break him .

The smells of bacon and something sweet fill the air when I finally leave the bathroom, shaved and scrubbed to perfection. He cooked? We have a small kitchenette, with a two-burner stove, a microwave, and a toaster oven that I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to have, but we don't really cook much outside of reheating pre-cooked meals we buy from the dining hall and the occasional grilled sandwich. Scrambled eggs are probably the only thing we've ever cooked on the stove.

"What's all this?" I ask, watching him put French toast on a plate. He even tops it with cut strawberries and sprinkles it with powdered sugar. He had to have planned this ahead to have these ingredients available.

Don't swoon. Don't swoon. Play it cool.

Gabe looks up, his pleased grin falling as his mouth drops open. I keep a pleasant smile on my face, sauntering around the counter to pop a sugar covered strawberry into my mouth.

He steps back to get a good look at me, eyes roaming all the way down my body. They rake over my exposed midriff and the tiny satin shorts that were a gag gift from the Pride Alliance secret Santa party. Antoni gave me the crop top the next day, because the black-on-black design with satiny kiss marks matches them perfectly. His eyes linger on the bulge of my cock, which is only half hard by sheer willpower. I bend to rest my arms on the end of the counter, stealing another strawberry. If a little powdered sugar ends up on my lips, it's entirely coincidental. I fight to pretend I don't notice the way his pupils dilate as his gaze zeros in on my mouth.

"Oh, you're just being cruel now," he mumbles, voice low and rumbly in a way that makes my skin tingle.

Play. It. Cool .

My tongue swipes over the sugar, and I swear I can feel the heat radiating off him. He wants me. But he's not going to have me unless I can have him, too. I'm determined.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, my mouth quirking up on one side. "Do we have orange juice?

Turning away from him, I open the fridge and bend at the waist to look inside. Just as I reach for the carton, warm hands land on either side of my hips. I look over my shoulder, ignoring the urge to push my ass back into the obvious erection straining Gabe's sleep pants. "We're low. Can you add it to the list?"

His gaze is fixed on my ass, thumbs rubbing over the silky material. "Where did these come from?"

"Um…" I pretend to think. "Christmas gift from Antoni."

I feel his grip tighten as I stand, and I fight the evil grin that wants to escape. Gabe doesn't release his grip on my hips, only pulls me into his body, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. "And why is Antoni buying you underwear?"

I raise an eyebrow over my shoulder. "They're shorts. For going out clubbing."

"You don't go clubbing. And these are not shorts for wearing in public. They're fucking panties, for Christ's sake."

It's hard not to laugh at how exasperated he is. I don't disagree with him and very flatly let everyone know I would absolutely not be wearing them in public, but right now, I'm thinking I might chance trying to leave the house in them just to get under Gabe's skin.

"I'm going next weekend, actually." I feel his frown, and I'm sure it's because we always do something together, the three of us, for mine and Elliot's birthday. But we've made no plans, and I'm sure Elliot would rather go hang out with his jock friends anyway. I promised Ivy and the other s I'd go with them, and it was as good a weekend as any. "Besides," I say, wiggling out of his grip. "Just because you don't like them doesn't mean somebody else won't."

He fucking growls. Growls!

Gabe snatches my arm, spinning me around and pinning me between him and the counter. He looms over me, looking like he wants to eat me alive. He's pissed and hard at the same time, and I shiver.

After what happened the last time he lost control, you'd think I wouldn't be into this. But I quickly lose the willpower to pretend I'm anything other than putty in his hands, dropping my head back to look up at him. He ducks his head, his mouth hovering inches from mine. So close…

"I didn't say I don't like them," he rumbles. His hooded eyes flit between my mouth and my eyes. "You missed some," he whispers, before licking my bottom lip.

I push to my toes, capturing his tongue before he can pull back, sucking it into my mouth. The sweet taste of sugar and Gabe's choked moan floods my mouth. When I release his tongue, it doesn't retreat. Gabe covers my mouth with his, and our tongues tangle wildly. I feel the kiss all the way down to my soles of my feet. A spasm of need and pleasure straightens my spine as my arms circle around the back of his neck. His hands leave the counter at my sides where he was pinning me in and dip to the backs of my thighs. He lifts me with ease, and my legs wrap around his waist.

My head is empty, aside from the rushing blood. I'm dizzy with it, lost to the suction of our mouths. We're living on the air we pass between each other, grappling for more. I'm not even aware when my hand pushes between us, only that the moment my hand comes in contact with the soft, hot skin of his shaft, he makes a sound between a groan and a bark. He pushes me away, but not before my fingertips catch a burst of wetness.

In the blink of an eye, he's several feet away from me. I'm reeling, steadying myself with a hand on the counter, unaware of just when my feet hit the ground. The front of the tiny satin shorts is gaping with the way my erection is tenting the tight fabric, a wet spot building in the front of them. It's a struggle to keep my gaze at eye level, imploring him.

Why is he fighting this so hard?

Well, fuck if I'm going to beg him.

"Look, Gabe. This has been fun, this penance game we've been playing. But it's not working out the way I thought it would."

"I'm—"

"Afraid," I finish for him. "Yeah, I get that. There are parts of it that I'm afraid of, too. One example being how one sided this has become. How weak and pathetic it makes me feel."

I hold my hand up before he can say anything else, remembering the wetness on my fingertips that's now cold and sticky.

"I'm not afraid of you, of being physically hurt by you. It was an honest mistake that I truly believe won't happen again." I look down at my fingers, rubbing the fluid between my fingertips. "I'll be your dirty little secret. I'll hide this thing for as long as it takes for you to be sure. And if it's not what you want, then I'll back off and pretend I'm not in love with you, like I've been doing for years. But I'm not going to be someone you play with out of pity."

"I'm not. That's not what—" he drops his voice. "I like what we're doing. I like taking care of you… making you feel good."

"And I don't hate being your pillow princess, but I don't want any of it if I can't have you equally." I let the silence stretch for a few moments, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn't. "I'd never pressure yo u to do something you don't want to do, just like I know you'd never make me do anything I didn't want. There are no hard feelings, or anything like that. I'll take anything you want to give me, and believe me, I want it all." To drive my point forward, I lick each of my fingers, one by one, savoring the flavor of him while maintaining eye contact. It's an intentional power move. "But please don't touch me in any way that I can't reciprocate because of misplaced guilt or fear."

Needing an out and wanting to give him space to think, I reach for a plate. "Thanks for breakfast," I say, awkwardly pressing a kiss to the side of his face as I walk past him to eat in my room.