28. Luke

It should have been a crime for Elijah to smile like that.

He'd been distractingly handsome before in a stern and stoic way. But now smiles appeared on his face with an ease that shocked me, transforming his beauty from stern to breathtaking.

Knowing that I was the reason was enough to have my heart leaping from my chest. It was beating so loudly I was sure he'd hear it in this small, quiet bedroom with only the light from the hallway filtering in. I had him pinned to the bed now, my thighs straddling his hips, and his dark eyes roamed my face like he was memorizing every detail.

"Hmmm," I said, stroking a finger down the center of his chest. "Maybe there's one way I can be good."

I followed the path of my finger, sliding my face through his soft chest hair, rubbing my cheek against it. I licked lightly at his nipple and watched him seize up and curse, his hand flying to the back of my head.

"Yeah, right there," he groaned.

Captivated, I did it again. There was nothing more addictive than this—bringing a man like Elijah Knight to his fucking knees. Feeling his muscles shiver with every kiss, every touch, every circle of my tongue. I dragged a palm down his stomach as my mouth moved lower. He was so big, so strong, but the hands cradling my head were gentle.

I eyed the bruise blossoming on his rib cage and brushed my lips across it. "Does it hurt, sweetheart?"

"A little."

Another kiss, this one over his heart. "Do you want me to stop? Take a break?"

"No, never…Luke, please."

So I took his cock between my lips, and his breath grew rough, ragged. One hand fisted in my hair, the other in the sheets. Like the other night, the taste of him, the smell of him, had me hard in an instant.

"That's it," he grunted. "You're so good at this."

I relaxed my throat and took him deeper, holding him there as a string of colorful curses fell from his mouth. I took my time on the way up and met his eyes, saw the wild arousal there, the affection, the desperation. A second later he yanked my head up and said, "Get on your stomach."

I sucked in a breath and did as I was told, crawling alongside him on the bed. He watched me with a predatory gleam, rubbing a hand across his mouth. I pillowed my cheek on my hands and said, "You promised to share your dirty thoughts about me."

He reached for my ass. Palmed it roughly, hefted each cheek. I purred and rocked against the bed. He gave me a slap and my hips shot up immediately, begging for more, and his answering chuckle was dark and dangerous.

"I have some thoughts about you," he ground out. Spanked me again. "A lot of thoughts. Too many. But I don't know what you like."

"Then ask me."

He dipped his fingers along my crease and circled my hole. "I want my mouth here. And then I'll fuck you through this goddamn bed."

"Yes, please," I said, dropping my face into the blanket. "I'll lose it, Elijah."

The mattress dipped as he moved down my body. Then I felt his teeth nipping at the back of my thigh. "Is that a promise?"

"Please," I begged again. And was treated to another slap. My breath hitched, every muscle tight in heady anticipation. His hot breath skated across my tender skin. His hands pushed my thighs open and spread my ass cheeks. I couldn't see his face, but I heard his rumbled groan. When his mouth landed on me, I cried out into the pillow.

His tongue circled and circled before wiggling inside me, setting off every single nerve ending. I couldn't even talk, could only cry and moan at the invasion. I tried to hump the bed but Elijah wouldn't let me. His arm kept my lower body still while his tongue and fingers stretched me, worked me open, hit every sensitive spot until I was close to sobbing.

"ElijahElijahElijah,"I cried.

He snarled and spanked me. "You are so fucking sexy like this, Luke."

Then he wiggled his tongue again and the edges of my vision went dim. I kept saying please, kept saying more, though I was unaware of conscious thought. Only Elijah's hungry moans as he buried his face in my ass and made me see every one of the stars. When his head finally lifted, he left a finger teasing my entrance, keeping me ready.

His mouth roamed up my spine, reached the back of my neck. He cautiously lowered himself on top of me and his weight pressed me down into the mattress. It was decadent, it was delicious. He was so warm. He slid his cock between my ass cheeks while licking my ear.

All I could do was whine and cry. And his voice was so rough I knew he was barely hanging on.

"Can I fuck you now?" he asked softly.

"God, yes, please," I begged.

He nipped at my neck and then I felt him move off me. I turned my head and watched him rip open the condom wrapper and slide it on. Watched him oil his hand with lube and work it up and down his cock, all while staring at me like the meal he was about to devour. My hips rocked back until I was on my hands and knees—cock heavy, aching, my fingers curling around the metal headboard. Then he was behind me, the tops of his thighs lining up against the back of mine. Hips strong. Powerful. Cock nudging at the spot where I felt the emptiest.

My heart beat so fast I was legitimately worried it might stop working.

His hands curved around my ass, massaging. He nudged my knees a little wider. I felt a lubed-up finger dip inside me and stretch and stroke. My face dropped to the mattress as I cried out, pushing back against him. I was balanced on a razor-thin wire. Pure sensation, all euphoria, a growing wave cresting and cresting.

"Yes?" he said again.

I nodded furiously and bucked into his hand. "Yes, yes."

The tip of his cock breached me and I felt the first bite of pain. I breathed hard through my nose and shuddered under Elijah's palm, stroking soothingly up my spine.

"I wanted you from the first moment we met," he whispered into the darkness. He slid in another inch and I started to relax. Then another few inches, lighting me up like fireworks bursting in the sky.

"Oh my god," I moaned. "Me too, me too. I wanted you so much."

He rocked out gently. Rocked back in. My thoughts evaporated in the rush of pleasure. I chanced a glance over my shoulder and bit my lip. Sweat shone on Elijah's broad chest as he yanked my hips back onto his cock.

I growled out "You're so big" and was treated to a flash of arrogance in his eyes.

"You like my cock, Lucas?" he asked.

I dropped my head back into the covers and grunted. "Shut the fuck up—you know I do."

He smacked my ass and I laughed. Moaned. Tore at the sheets until I was sure I'd shred them. He was moving steadily now—bruised ribs be damned—and I was barely hanging on. Not when his cock stretched me so fully it felt like I was floating through space. Not when I could hear the slap of his legs thrusting into me. His husky breathing, every gruff curse and sigh. I let myself get taken away on it all, every indulgent sound and detail. Elijah reached around my hip and grabbed my cock in a tight grip.

"So perfect," he panted. "I'll never get enough of this, Luke." His hand worked my cock as he fucked me faster. "Never get enough of you. I can't stop now that I have you."

I bit my lip so hard I broke the skin. Pushed back on his cock until he grunted his approval. "Elijah, I'm gonna…"

"You're goddamn right you are," he swore. "Don't hold back."

I didn't. Couldn't. Wouldn't have been able to if someone had offered me a million dollars right here to stay quiet. Sensation tore through me relentlessly. I bucked and writhed and chanted his name, over and over, finally coming in his fist. My knees collapsed, but I found the strength to turn my head and catch sight of the image I wanted to burn into my memory.

Elijah, kneeling forward and driving against me, gripping my hips with white knuckles and a look of drunken ecstasy on his face. He tipped his head back on a long, anguished groan as he climaxed. Dragged a hand down his face then pinned me with a look that had me wanting to squirm. It was a look of pure devastation, like I was personally responsible for his unraveling.

I'm completely undone by you.

The fear crept in past my bone-deep satisfaction—and I knew why. This was no longer a flirtation with my cute bodyguard. Not some fun crush or distracting fantasy. My feelings for Elijah steamrolled me into the damn ground. There was no going back. It hadn't been an option for me since that first kiss at Senator Wallace's mansion.

I was falling for Elijah—and that gave him all the power to hurt me. To examine every flaw and mistake, then toss me aside. The words crowded at the back of my throat…but what was I gonna say? That was the most intense sexual experience of my life, so thank you, but also please don't hurt me ever?

Asking him to keep that promise was neither fair to him nor realistic.

Elijah stood up slowly from the bed…then pressed his forehead to the wall, catching his breath. When he left, I could see his legs trembling, and my worries threatened to wash me away. Memories of my father cleaved their way in—his impassive expression every time he let Preston but not me eat dinner, pointing at my report card to demonstrate my lack of value. Preston's imperious tone—I so love hearing all the ways you've squandered your responsibilities. My mother's smile, weaker and weaker at the end.

From the bathroom I heard running water, the soft gurgling of mouthwash. Then Elijah returned with a washcloth and a giant throw blanket. Brow furrowed, he used the warm cloth to clean my stomach before draping the blanket over my naked limbs. I had already started to shiver.

He climbed in under the blanket and turned on his side. He must have sensed my wariness, because he tugged me close until we lay chest to chest, with his leg hooked casually over my own. His arm looped around until his palm could press into the center of my back.

His nose nudged mine. His lips hovered, like he was just as uncertain as I was, in the cool, dark aftermath of such an incendiary experience. We inhaled. Exhaled.

I brushed my lips over his and thought about skydiving again. How the sensations of fear and love were so delicately intertwined. If Elijah was standing next to me with a parachute on and a lifetime's amount of fear, I'd tell him to embrace it and jump anyway.

The options were either jump or return to earth without ever experiencing the freedom of flight.

I kissed Elijah. Wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him close. His fingers brushed my hair away, curled around my ear. He smelled like peppermint and the crisp air outside, sweat and the ocean, smoky fire and starlight.

"I like you so much it scares me," I whispered against his mouth.

He reared back, a crease between his brows. "I thought it was just me."

That had me laughing softly in the darkness. "No, sweetheart. It's not just you. We're officially in trouble now."

One side of his mouth hitched up, flashing his adorable dimple. "I knew you were trouble from the start, actually."

"That's my whole vibe. You could have asked on Day One if I was gonna tempt you into a night of tawdry passion in a cabin we sorta-kinda broke into?—"

He snorted. "You mean definitely broke into."

"Semantics." I kissed him again. "Anyway…I would have said of course."

He tangled his fingers in my hair. Stole a kiss he had no business giving after fucking me into the next universe. His body was warm and relaxed pressed to mine, and we were cozy under the blanket. Outside, the storm still raged, unabated, and I winced, picturing the car sinking deeper into the ocean.

That's tomorrow's problem, I reminded myself, and kissed Elijah harder. When we broke apart, he dragged his thumb along my lower lip until I bit it. Another shadow of a smile flickered across his face, sending my heart spinning.

"Tonight, it's…" he started, then paused. "It's been a little while, for me, since I've been with someone. I'm out of practice. Was it okay?"

It was the same worry he'd had the first night. The same light blush on his cheeks, the same vulnerability. It made me want to find whoever dumped this man and say thank you but also you're a fucking fool.

I cupped his face. "Two things. First, I'm not sure my body is prepared for whenever you're in practice. Because I no longer know my name or what year it is after two of the best orgasms of my life, and that is one hundred percent because of you."

He gave me a quick peck with eyes full of gratitude.

"And secondly, everything you do to me is more than okay. In practice, out of practice. We could have fumbled our way through the most awkward sexual experience ever, and I would have had fun with you. Because I like you just the way you are."

Elijah ducked his head. "Luke…"

"Has an ex ever told you differently? If so, I'd like to punch them in the face."

He pressed a palm over my heart. "Your threats of violence are quite romantic."

"Oh yeah?" I laughed. "You're the first person I've ever been with who's made me feel that strongly."

He rolled his lips together, studying me. "My exes are fine, really. They were nice, and well-intentioned, and their only crime was wanting a partner who paid attention to them. Something I didn't do well."

"Workaholic," I said, repeating him from earlier.

He nodded. "I work too much. I'm too serious. I never…never lighten up." His fingers flexed against my skin. "It hasn't been easy, letting others in. You're…a force of nature, Luke. I've never felt more out of control then when I'm with you."

I let my fingers trace a path along his cheekbones, the sharp line of his jaw. "Good way or bad way?"

"A new way," he whispered. "It's why I'm so nervous."

I let those words settle over me as I traced the white lines of his scarring. The day I'd had that gargoyle nightmare, he'd told me this scar was from a car accident. One he still dreamed about.

I stroked it gently and said, "Was your dad driving the car when you got this?"

He flinched. I pulled back, startled, but then he grabbed my hand and pressed it to the scar again. Nuzzled into it. "Sorry. I don't talk about it a lot."

"You don't have to tell me anything."

"I want to." Elijah kissed my fingers. "He had a new woman in his life. A coworker he was sleeping with, and they were late to pick me up that day from school. Christopher was at soccer practice, so it was only me. Mostly I was just so mad at him when they finally arrived, two hours late. I had to wait in the principal's office. It…it was embarrassing. So I was ignoring them for most of the ride home. Plus, it made me uncomfortable, the way he'd flirt when I was there, when I could hear what he was saying."

I hooked my leg through his, pulling him closer.

"She was younger than him and he was going all out," he continued. "I should have known he wasn't paying attention, should have said something. But I didn't. And I remember looking up and seeing him smile at her, trying to get her to laugh at one of his jokes. His eyes weren't even on the road, so he blew through a stop sign and a car T-boned us, hitting the back passenger side."

I sucked in a breath. "Where you were sitting?"

"Yeah." He reached for the scar, tangled our fingers together. "It was turning to see the car barreling toward me that still gives me nightmares. There was no stopping it. No hiding. It struck me going forty-five miles an hour. I remember the metallic sound it made when it collided with us, but that's about it. I woke up in the hospital with a concussion and broken ribs. Dislocated collarbone and a smashed elbow."

He flinched at the memory. "The window had shattered in my face on impact—that's where the scars come from. My mom and Christopher were there. I remember her face being white as a sheet. And that was the beginning of the end of their relationship. She didn't know the extent of it all. Her job was the one that paid all the bills, and she worked nights, slept during the day, was so exhausted she began to look like a zombie. Whatever my dad told her, she believed. Besides, we were so young and he was our dad and the violence he enacted, it wasn't clear-cut. It was thoughtlessness…carelessness…manipulation. A hair-trigger temper he made sure to hide when the right people were in the room."

I stroked my fingers through his hair. "That kind of deprivation is another kind of violence. Easy to conceal. Harder to understand, especially for two kids."

His gaze sharpened. "I carry so much guilt with me. I should have told her what he was doing behind her back. I was old enough to know better."

"He was old enough to know better," I said firmly. "You were a child."

Elijah studied me closely. "Making your kids sleep outside when they got bad grades is also violence."

"It is," I murmured.

"Does Preston remember it fully? What your father did to you both?"

I rolled over onto my back and blew out a breath. "Who the hell knows. We don't talk about it. Until recently, we rarely spoke. I think our brains protect us from this stuff, so if he doesn't fully remember, I don't blame him. We were young; it was confusing. Mom died, our world ended, then Dad shuffled us around like pieces on a chessboard. We only wanted love. His love."

I turned to look at Elijah. "When he bestowed his fucked-up love on Preston, I'm sure it felt good, you know? I'm sure it felt safe."

Elijah stroked circles through my chest hair. "What makes you feel safe now?"

My smile was easy. "You, Elijah Knight. My handsome shield."

He pulled me toward him until I was curled against his body with my head pillowed on his chest. His heart was strong and steady against my ear, lulling me into relaxation as soundly as the rain outside. He brushed his lips along the crown of my head, so tenderly that tears threatened.

"Go to sleep, my liege," he whispered. "We're safe here."

And so I did.