Mira

I give him the time he clearly needs to find the words. We simply sit here together, comforted by each other's company.

"You… because…"

The flames in the hearth almost conceal the flush that has spread across his face, but I can see the terror in his eyes. I brush my lips over his.

"Because what?"

His heart beats even harder, almost alarmingly so.

"Because I like you. It scares the hell out of me because you make me feel so many things… And I know I'm going to disappoint you. I can't make you any promises, but sometimes I think maybe I could… If I really tried. If I found a way to make things right."

His words warm my heart. I doubt I'll ever get anything closer to a declaration of love from him. It's a hopeful sign.

A sign that he isn't with me only for the occasional hookup and a friend who treats him like a normal guy. And a sign that he really would be willing to do what it takes to change.

I kneel in front of him to kiss his lips. I'd intended simply to comfort him, but he doesn't let me pull away. As he deepens our kiss, he wraps one hand around my ponytail and tugs while gripping my hip with the other. I moan and give him better access to my mouth. When our tongues meet, my heart races.

Elliot's lips never leave mine as he carefully maneuvers me until my back presses into the soft rug. He kisses me as if he wants to mark me with his tongue. As if he wants to make sure I remember him forever. I could never forget him, not in a hundred years or a million embraces. There's something special between us that always leaves me wanting more, no matter the consequences.

When he begins exploring my body with his fingertips, it drives me wild. I move from his lips to his neck, where I take my time sucking his skin.

He pulls back with a groan of pleasure. His gaze hungry, he lifts the hem of my sweatshirt.

"Hmm. This is unexpected."

His rough voice rises above my panting breath.

"Lena packed it in my suitcase," I explain, my cheeks burning.

"Why wound my ego? I thought you chose it just for me!"

He traces one of the donuts decorating my bra with his finger. I'm sure it hasn't seen the light of day since high school. Upside: it makes my breasts look great. Downside: it makes me look ridiculous. I hope Elliot wants me badly enough not to take the time to read "Donut you want me1?" printed across my ass. I'm not sure I could survive that kind of humiliation.

"Are you planning to stare at me all night, or are you going to do something?"

His gaze remains fixed on my chest.

"I'm enjoying the view."

"I'd enjoy mine more if your head were between my legs."

His lips crash into mine. He rolls us until I'm on top of him, then lets me catch my breath. One hand unfastens my bra while the other hurriedly pulls off my sweatshirt. In the blink of an eye, I'm half naked and waiting for him.

He sits up, keeping me against him. When the part of my body aching for him presses against his erection, we moan in unison. His greedy hands roam over me, leaving goose bumps wherever they linger.

When my back meets the floor again, my head spins. I can't help it: I giggle.

"If you're laughing, we have a problem."

"I can't help it! Where did you learn to move like that?"

Another little laugh escapes me, but Elliot quickly figures out how to silence me by lowering his head to my breasts.

Without warning, he takes my nipple into his mouth, sending a spark of pleasure through me. His tongue circles the hardened tip. He teases me until I squirm and moan beneath him. I can do nothing but cling to his hair.

Elliot is a man who excels at paying attention to detail. With his mouth occupied, he gently strokes my other nipple with his fingers. It's nothing more than a brush, but the sensation sets my whole body ablaze.

I let out a frustrated groan, and Elliot's mouth pulls away with a pop. The firelight dances across his face, giving him a golden glow.

"Patience is a virtue."

"Yes, and so is chastity, but as you can see, I don't practice it."

His mouth curves into a smirk.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman. Foreplay is important."

"You fucked me in a car only two weeks ago. I don't know if you still qualify as a 'gentleman.'"

He laughs. It's a rich, deep sound, low enough to make my toes curl all by itself.

"Stay there."

When Elliot rises, I notice the impressive bulge behind his fly. He undoes the button and partially lowers the zipper as he heads toward the kitchen. I hear drawers opening and closing, then he returns and drops a few condoms onto the rug.

When he pulls his T-shirt over his head, I stare openmouthed. I want to trace his prominent muscles with the tip of my tongue and memorize their contours. His jeans land on the floor next, leaving him in nothing but a pair of skin-tight boxer briefs. My mouth waters at the shape of his cock through the fabric.

I crawl toward him and run my palm over the bulge. He tips his head back as his fingers find the roots of my hair. I free his erection and stroke its length with the tip of my tongue. Elliot rewards me with a moan and a small spark of pain across my scalp.

"Show me how much you want me."

Something in his voice strikes me straight in the heart. After everything he shared with me, those words feel important. As if part of him expects me to see him as lesser because he has spent his life being undervalued.

I make a silent promise to worship him the way he deserves. To prove that nothing he says will make me run. I care about this man no one else knows. I think I may even love him.

My cheeks burning, I take him into my mouth, inch by inch. He pushes himself deeper, and my clit throbs in response. He controls my body just as he controls a boardroom: with absolute confidence tempered by a restraint I find intoxicating.

And fuck, I love it so much.

As he thrusts deeper, Elliot digs his nails into my scalp. Though muffled, my moan catches his attention. He strokes my cheek with his fingertips.

"I don't know which I like more. Seeing you smile without holding back or seeing you like this, your swollen lips around my cock."

He likes my smile!