Page 14 of Silver Foxed

Elijah doesn’t flinch at my touch. Instead, he holds eye contact like he does every time we speak. But this time, it’s different, darker. Even in the dim light, I can see the desire in his eyes. There’s no denying he wants me, too.

“Alex,” he says headily, “this is a bad idea.” But nothing in his tone or body language says this is bad at all.

“What if I like bad ideas?” I ask teasingly, gently sliding my hand up his thigh. I only stop when my fingers meet the outline of his very prominent erection.

Elijah curses under his breath, but he still doesn’t pull away. Instead, his body slips down the hot tub wall so my palm now rests over the very large bulge beneath his swim trunks. I internally pat myself on the back for correctly guessing that this man, in fact, does have a big dick to go with his BDE.

“Alex,” he sighs, his voice almost pained.

I cup him then gently squeeze until he groans. “How long has it been since someone’s touched you, Elijah?”

He swallows, a long moment passing before he says, “A long time.”

I gently grip him again so his eyes roll in the back of his head. “How long?”

“Two years,” chokes out.

I try to keep the shock off my face. A man like him hasn’t had anyone touch him in two years? I find it hard to believe, but I don’t think he’s lying. He has no reason to.

I stroke my hand up his clothing-covered cock, brushing my thumb over the thick crown of it. “Can I make you feel good, Elijah?” I rub my own thighs together at the thought of being the first one to touch him in so long, to take him in my mouth and watch this serious, beautiful man come apart for me. To have him grab my hair and use me how he wants.

The filthy images continue to pile on as I wait for an answer. I move closer to his body, the pressure from my hand on his cock increasing as I slide the tops of my wet breasts against his arm.

“Please,” I purr into his ear, rubbing my nose along the shell of it. His cock jumps beneath my hand, and I bite down on his earlobe. It may be excessive, but I feel like a woman driven by pure aching need for him. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

“I’m going to hell,” he groans, “but god help me, yes.” His blown-out pupils connect with mine as he says it. “Take care of me, Alex.”

That’s all I need to close the distance between us, my lips sealing over his in a burning kiss. If he’s going to hell, then I’m going to hell with him.

Chapter eight

Elijah

Alex’s lips are soft and pliant like the rest of her and even sweeter than I imagined. I cup her cheek with my hand, sliding it down her neck so I can pull her closer. She moans at the contact, her mouth opening so my tongue can slip in.

As I lick into her mouth for the first time, I’m transported to a different plane altogether. I may be going to hell, but she tastes like heaven. As our tongues tangle in a new dance, I become ravenous, wanting to consume her. Taste every note of her like she did that wine.

“Elijah.” She whimpers against my lips as my hand grips the base of her neck while I press my thumb into her rapidly beating pulse point. “I want to make you feel good.”

“You are making me feel good,” I say, kissing her now swollen lips, not wanting to go another second without her taste.

She moans, and the hand she has on my cock applies more pressure as she rubs those incredible tits on me. My god, I missed this—being with a woman, having another person’s hands touching me, pleasing me.

Alex trails her fingers along the waistband of my swim trunks, her nail brushing against my lower abs, causing them to contract.

“Sit up on the edge,” she says, pulling away.

I arch an eyebrow at her. She puts her lips into a demure pout that I’m certain would make me do anything she asked of me.

“Please,” she says, her fingers slipping beneath to brush over the hair leading to my cock. Feeling conflicted about not pleasing her first but also needing to please her by doing as she asks, I extricate myself from her and sit on the edge. Alex doesn’t waste any time, moving in front of me and gripping the top of my shorts.

“Lift up,” she says. When I do, she tugs at my wet bottoms, pulling them down enough that my hard length bobs free, slapping against my wet abs.

“My, my, my,” her dulcet voice coos, “what a pretty cock you have.” As if my penis likes being told it’s pretty, it twitches under her praise. Has anyone ever told me my cock is pretty before? No. But apparently, I like hearing it from her lips.

Kneeling on the seat before me now, she runs her fingers up my calves under the water, slowly dragging them up, up, up. Not only do I like the sensation of her hands on me, but I enjoy the way the bubbling jets move the water around her breasts, making the flushed skin bounce as she teases me.

“Pull your top down for me, Alex,” I command, letting my desire for her take over. I’m not thinking about anything else but us right now, about what she’s offered me. I’m going to make it count—everything else be damned.

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