Page 13 of Ours to Keep

“Fuck, I'm close,” Elliot says.

I grind my arse down onto his hips, circling my own and taking him as deep as physically possible.

“I need to come,” his voice is a plea as he exhales on a ragged breath.

“Do it. Fill me the fuck up,” I grunt, leaning at an angle that has him pressing against my prostate. It's maddening in the best possible way. “Show me how much you love being deep inside me. Do it, coat me with your cum.”

His hands move to my hips, his blunt nails digging into my skin as he thrusts up with wild abandon. His back arches off the mattress, trying to get even deeper, and my walls clench and squeeze around his cock, urging him on.

My focus is on Elliot’s face, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he ruts into me, losing himself to the sensations, a guttural moan escaping him.

I grab hold of my shaft and pump like a savage beast, his deep thrusts hitting me perfectly.

Elliot's mouth opens on a roar of undiluted pleasure as he begins to pulse deep inside me, filling me with his cum.

“Fuck, River. I’m yours, so fucking yours,” he groans,his hold on my hips tight enough to leave bruises.

“Mine,” I grit out in response.

His hand joins mine, fucking my shaft. As my arse continues to milk the last of his orgasm, feral gruntsand snarls fall from my lips. He twists his hand aroundthe head of my cock, tweaking my piercings, andthat’s when I completelylose it.

A surge of heat races down my spine as I come—hard.

“Fuckkkkk.” Thick ropes of hot cum squirt over our hands, covering his stomach and chest. Aftershocks cause him to jerk inside me. I stay there for a moment until he begins to soften and raise myself up as he pulls himself free. I roll onto my side, mybreathing ragged before I pull his body into mine, our sweaty and cum-slick skin sticking together.

Pressing my lips to his, I whisper, “I love you.”

His rise into a blissed-out smile. “I love you, too,” he replies, words I’ll never get tired of hearing and then I devour him with my mouth.

Chapter Eight

TOMMY

Lily has barely spoken, except with me, and even that’s been few and far between. Not knowing if Mia is safe is eating away at her as she withdraws more into herself. There’s not much I can do to make her feel better. I know that. I just hope my presence is helping, even in some small way.

“Lily, are you hungry?” I ask.

Her lacklustre grey orbs meet mine as she subtly shakes her head. The bruises marring her skin have grown darker, making themselves known. She’s barely looked at herself in the mirror, not even when she’s used the bathroom. She lowers her gaze, her shoulders slumped, leaving me no choice but to try another approach. “You know they won’t discharge you until they’re confident you’re eating and drinking plenty of fluids.” It’s a blatant lie, and I feel bad. The truth is, she could discharge herself, and there’s fuck all any of us could even do about it.

A noise beside me has me turning my attention towards her phone as it vibrateson the small cabinet beside her bed. The screen flashes an incoming call from a French area code, but no caller ID.

Grabbing it, I swipe the screen and answer.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Hello,” a soft, familiar voice replies. “It’s Mia. Is Lily there?” she asks, her tone excitable.

I pull the phone away from my ear and press the speaker before pulling out my own phone.

“Lils,” she says again.

“Mia,” Lily breathes out a relieved exhale. “Oh my God. I’ve been so worried about you. Where are you? Are you okay?” she asks in a rush.

I type out the number and send it to the group chat to let the guys know Mia is currently on the phone with Lily.

A message appears almost immediately.

Elliot: Try to keep her on the phone as long as possible. I need to start a trace.

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