17. Elle

17

ELLE

I sit cross-legged on my bed in the dark, my eyes fixed on my window.

I decided not to waste time pretending to be asleep. After the other night, he’ll know I’ll be faking it anyway, and I want to cut to the chase.

My heart flutters in my chest as I eagerly wait for him to appear, desperate to know if he felt anything close to what I did when he touched me the other night.

I fell asleep before I had the chance to reciprocate, and when I woke up he was gone.

Though, the lingering effects of his tongue were still very much present.

After getting home from dinner with Lucia last night, I sat up for him for hours, but he never showed. I figured he didn’t want to seem pushy or make me feel uncomfortable.

Or maybe he’s embarrassed that it happened…

Is that why he hasn’t been back?

The thought makes my stomach knot.

“Maybe he’s just shy.” I smooth out my hair, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach .

It’s probably a little sad that I made sure my hair looked nice and changed out of my ratty old college tee into a matching silk cami and shorts set just in case tonight is the night my mystery man finally decides to turn on the lights.

But I don’t care.

I’m a grown woman, and I’m free to indulge in a little late-night fun with a stranger if I want to.

That is, if the stranger bothers to turn up.

My eyelids are growing heavy with tiredness as the clock ticks past midnight.

I had the day off from the hospital today and despite having a lie-in, I still managed to fill my day with errands as well as a last-minute session with Dr. Mills, which has left me pretty exhausted.

I’m just about to call it quits and climb under the covers when I catch sight of a shadow moving outside my window.

He ’s back.

I hold my breath as the shadow moves closer to my window.

He ’s nothing more than a dark outline as he begins to climb over the ledge.

“Hi.”

He freezes as he realizes that I’m waiting up for him.

“It’s late,” he says in that deep tone of his that has my blood heating.

“I didn’t realize I had to have such a strict bedtime.”

When he makes no attempt to climb into my room, I start growing anxious that he might bolt.

“Are you not staying?”

Dr. Mills would have a field day if she knew the thoughts spiraling around my head right now.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes. ”

I nibble on my lower lip as he climbs the rest of the way through the window, but he makes no move to join me on the bed. Instead, he stays over by the wall, completely masked in shadow.

I wish I could see his face, if only to read his expression.

Is he feeling awkward about what happened the other night? Are his eyes filled with regret or lust?

I’m about to ask when he speaks up.

“How did your therapy session go?”

“I…Uh…” I shouldn’t be so surprised that he knows I visited Dr. Mills this afternoon, but his question still catches me off guard. “It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“We didn’t discuss our…situation, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I fiddle with the hem of my cami.

“I’m not.”

“Oh, okay, then.”

“But I would like you to tell me how it went.”

My skin prickles as my body comes alive with need, imagining him speaking like that in my ear as he touches me.

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the dull throbbing that is building between my thighs.

“I will, if you tell me something about yourself first.”

His answering sigh has my stomach fluttering.

I don’t want to push him away, not now that I've finally got him here. But I need more.

“I don’t like broccoli.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“Fine. I don’t like cheese either.”

“No, I’m not playing this game. You know intimate details about me, about my life, and I know absolutely nothing about you. ”

“It’s for your own good?—”

“You’re saying I can’t know anything? Come on, tell me one thing about you that no one else knows. And I swear if you say you don’t like pizza or something, we’re going to have a problem.”

“That’s where you draw the line?” His voice’s laced with amusement.

“What can I say, I’m half Italian,. But I’m guessing you already knew that.”

“Your surname was a pretty obvious clue.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“You already know more about me than most people.”

“What, that you’re skilled with your tongue?”

His answering laugh sends a shiver down my spine. It’s hesitant, as if he’s surprised by it.

My chest tightens at the thought.

“Tell me something real .”

His shadow moves as he leans back against the wall, shrouded in darkness, and I resist the urge to lean over and switch on my lamp, only because I know if I did, he would leave and never come back.

The thought of never getting to talk to him again makes me feel uneasy.

He’s oddly the one constant in my life right now that brings me comfort. Knowing he’s always near if I were to need him brings me a sense of peace I’ve not felt in a very long time.

“I’ve…” He takes a breath, and I hold my own as I wait for him to continue.

His voice, while deep and rough, is soothing.

“I’ve only ever been in love once.”

His words hang heavy in the darkness between us .

That was the last thing I was expecting him to say, and I’m curious to know why he felt the need to tell me that.

Is it because he’s referring to me?

Does he love me?

He can’t love me. He doesn’t know me.

Then again, I have no idea how much he knows about me…

I should be freaking the fuck out at this. I should be calling the police or at the very least Lucia, or even Mikhail.

I should be doing a lot of things, but from the way my skin flushes and a dull ache starts to build between my thighs, it’s clear that his words are having the opposite effect on my body.

“Turn the light on,” I whisper, shifting so that I’m kneeling on the bed. “I want to see your face.”

“No.”

I’m taken aback by his abrupt answer. I thought we were starting to make some progress, that he was beginning to trust me.

“Why?” I don’t bother hiding my irritation. “Do you have something to hide?”

“Everyone has something to hide.”

“Not me.”

“Really?”

“Nope. I’m an open book.”

“So, your cousin knows you’re letting a strange man get you off in your bedroom in the middle of the night?”

A choked sound escapes me, and he chuckles under his breath.

“I thought so.”

I huff. “That’s different.”

“Is it? Tell me, Elle, why are you keeping our conversations a secret?”

“I’m not ashamed of you if that’s what you’re worried about…” I rub my hands up and down my bare thighs.

“I’m not worried. I’m just… curious .”

“I haven’t told my cousin about what happened between us because she already thinks that my behavior around you is so out of character.”

“In what way?”

“For starters, the fact that I let you get me off the other night isn’t exactly something I’ve done before. Besides, I…think about you, a lot… In ways that I shouldn’t.”

“Like what?”

“You ask an awful lot of questions.” My cheeks warm.

“Indulge me, Elle.” His voice is low and raspy.

My nipples pebble, and I grow slick between my thighs at the sound of my name on his lips.

Well, fuck.

“I think about all the things I want you to do to me,” I whisper. “Like the other night… It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

“What do you want me to do to you, Elle?”

My eyes flutter closed as I try to fight back a moan.

I’m desperate to reach between my thighs, to help relieve the ache building between them, but I want him to be the one to do it.

“I want you to fuck me…”

“Trust me, I’ve thought about it.” His voice is thick with arousal, and I sink my teeth into my lower lip to keep myself quiet as my clit throbs.

“Watching you undress at the window drove me fucking crazy. I came so fucking hard.”

A whimper escapes me at the thought of him getting off to my naked body.

“And then tasting you the other night…” He makes a choked sound that has my restraint snapping.

I reach up to cup my breasts, gently rubbing my aching nipples.

“Having you come on my tongue was incredible.”

“You’re welcome to do it again if you like.” I knead my swollen breasts.

I’m not sure if I’m being so bold because he can’t see me, or if it’s because I feel so naturally comfortable around him.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why? We both want this.”

“You shouldn’t want me.”

My hands fall to my thighs, and I let out a breath, hoping that I’m not going to come to regret what I’m about to say.

“But I do want you, in whatever way you’ll let me. So please, touch me.”

I’m breathless with need, and his answering silence has a quiet whimper escaping my lips.

“I need you to cover your eyes.”

Something lands softly on the bed, and I reach out to find a blindfold.

“If you really want my touch, this is how I need it to be.”

I don’t bother to fight him on it.

I tie the blindfold over my eyes and return my hands to my thighs, waiting for him to make the next move.

There’s a rustle of clothing, and I bite my lip as something hits the floor.

Is he naked?

The bed dips beneath his weight, and jeans brush against my thigh.

That answers that question .

“Did you put this on just for me?” He tugs on the thin straps of my cami.

I gasp at his calloused fingers against my skin.

“I thought it might be a little too forward if I was waiting naked for you on my bed.”

“Perhaps… Though, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before…”

His hair tickles my neck as he leans in to press his lips against my collarbone.

I gasp, arching against his touch as I reach out to grip his shoulders.

Which are bare.

My fingers trail over his warm skin, reveling in the hard muscle I find.

The blindfold is making me hyper aware of not only his touch but mine too, and he stills, letting me explore his torso with my fingers.

He shudders when I run my hands over his broad chest and up his neck, feeling the skin change in texture. It reminds me of the skin on his hands, as if there’s scarring there too.

My eyes sting with tears as I softly trace my fingers over the skin.

He’s deathly still as I touch him, and when I lean forward and press my lips to his neck, his whole body shudders.

“Elle,” he rasps as my tongue flicks out and licks him.

I want him to know that the scars don’t repulse me. Nothing about him does.

My hands move up his neck until I’m cupping his face, my thumbs rubbing against the stubble on his jaw.

“Kiss me,” I whisper.

He leans in, and my breath catches as his lips graze my own .

He’s hesitant to start with but when my tongue teases his lower lip, he makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, and then his fingers are in my hair, and he’s forcing his tongue into my mouth.

I eagerly let his tongue explore my mouth like it did my pussy, moaning at the taste of him as his tongue slides against mine.

“I need you,” I gasp against his lips.

“Take off your clothes and lie back for me, Elle.”