Page 36 of Crossing the Top Line

Elijah laughs deep in his throat, and I catch a flash of his icy-blue eyes before we’re moving. He throws me down onto the cushions, his hips forcing my thighs to part to accommodate his bulk. I try for his shirt again, but he snatches my hands with one of his massive ones and stretches them above my head.

“I’ve only just begun to taste you, Tori. Now be a good girl and keep your hands up here,” he says, a purr on the edge of his words.

My core clenches around nothing, but I lift my chin. “Or what?” I challenge.

He pauses and looks down at me, considering. Instead of answering, he lowers his lips to mine, kissing me slowly and thoroughly, like he did in the car. I must have a few wires crossed, because the softness disarms me more than any of the domineering alpha shit he’s tried in the last few minutes. When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far, our noses brushing as he looks into my eyes.

“Pick a number between one and five,” he says simply.

I blink, confused, but willing to play along. “Three,” I reply hesitantly.

“I’m not the punishing type, Victoria. But I promise that if you do as I ask, I’ll make sure you get at least three orgasms before I’m done with you.”

My jaw falls open, and for the first time in an exceptionally long time, I’m at a total loss for words. I’ve only ever done one-night stands since coming to New Orleans. Trauma aside, my job takes up too much of my time and energy for me to even consider trying to find anyone worthy of committing to. But even going back as far as my college days, I can count on one hand the number of times a guy has made me come once in a night, and he’s promising multiples.

“I’ll hold you to that,” I say at last before settling back into the cushions and keeping my arms where he placed them even when he pulls away.

“If you remember anything beyond my name by that point, then I’m not doing my job correctly,” Elijah says with a laugh.

He kisses me soundly, silencing me for the moment. His mouth trails down my chin, my throat, my sternum, laving kisses the entire length of my torso until he gets to the hem of my pants. I grip the pillow below my hands, breathing in sharply as he pops the button of my slacks with his teeth. He doesn’t waste any more time, stripping me bare with one quick movement, the cool air of my living room hitting the damp curls at the apex of my thighs. Eli’s hands wrap around my thighs, forcing them toward my chest as he lowers his mouth to my core.

I’d expected more teasing, more one liners and banter, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. His tongue finds my clit like a magnet, swirling around it, moaning as he licks away my dripping cream. Back arching, I let my eyes slide closed, trying to stay out of my head and just be present in my body. My moans are soft, and I dig my hands into the pillow. I want to touch him, to stay grounded in the pleasure he’s working so hard to give me, but I want to play this game of his.

Eli lets my legs fall over his shoulders, and I squeeze my eyes closed, whimpering. He’s good, but it’s not enough. My mind is still flitting between the noise of my ice maker, the rumble of a passing car outside, the scratch of the cushions against my bare skin. The pleasure is building, but it’s more of a leaky faucet than a firehose.

“Tell me what you need,darling,” he murmurs against my entrance, kissing and licking.

I relax my back against the couch, swallowing around my dry mouth. “More, I need more,” I manage through my gasps.

“Use your words, Victoria. What do you need more of?”

I whine in frustration. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to decide. I want to feel, and I just want to—

With a gasp, my eyes fly open as he pushes a thick finger inside of my pussy, curling the digit and dragging it along my upper wall with purpose.

“Oh, God,” I moan.

“God’s not going to give you any orgasms tonight. I will, but you’re going to talk to me. Tell me what feels good, what you want more of. Now…” he pauses, pulling his hand free and making me whimper from the hollowness left behind. “Use. Your. Words.”

Something in the primal part of my mind purrs with delight at the rough alpha growl on the edges of his words. It’s almost too easy to forget Eli’s designation, but right now, when he’s between my thighs, radiating heat like a furnace and staring me down, there’s no doubt in my mind. This isn’t about him not knowing what I want, but about making me obey. I let out a frustrated scream through my teeth, and I try to dig my heels into his back, trying to force his mouth back to my clit. But I probably would have had more success trying to kick a tree over.

“Your finger. Fuck me with your finger,” I whisper, my face flushing with embarrassment.

“Good girl,” he purrs, obliging immediately.

I sigh as he starts off slow, working more and more of his finger into my channel with each pass until his palm brushes my clit with every thrust.

“Curl it like you were before,” I try, words a little shaky.

There’s no praise this time, only the reward of his finger curling, the delicious drag of the pad over my sweet spot each time.

“Harder, faster, more. I need…your mouth on my…oh holy shit, yes, just like that,” I pant, my hips moving to fuck myself down onto his hand as he lowers his head and licks my clit with hard, faster flicks.

“Another, please, more,” I moan, heels digging into Eli’s back for an entirely different reason now.

The sweet burn and stretch of a second finger joining the first makes me shudder, my eyes sliding closed. I’m chanting his name mindlessly, only interrupted with the occasional plea to God, but I’m too far gone.

“Tell me how that feels,” Eli moans when he comes up for air. “Don’t stop talking.”

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