Page 138 of Across the Boards

When he touches me, when his lips trace patterns across my skin, when his hands find the places that make me arch and gasp—I don’t question whether I deserve the pleasure. I simply receive it, give it in return, lose myself in the connection between us.

His body presses me into the mattress, the weight of him perfect, grounding. I hook my leg around his hip, pulling him closer as his mouth finds that spot below my ear that makes me shiver. My hands roam his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath hot skin.

“Fuck,” he breathes when I rock against him, the hard length of him sliding against my wetness. His eyes, dark with desire, lock onto mine as he grips my wrists, pinning them above my head with one strong hand.

“Come on, Elliot,” he murmurs against my ear, his free hand working magic between my thighs. “I want to hear you.”

I bite my lip, a lifetime habit of restraint not easily broken. My hips move of their own accord, chasing the pleasure his fingers bring—circling, dipping inside, then back to that bundle of nerves that makes my toes curl.

“Don’t hold back,” he coaxes, his voice husky with desire. “Let me hear what I do to you.”

His thumb circles precisely where I need it, his other hand still holding my wrists captive. The position leaves me exposed, vulnerable to his gaze that rakes over my body like a physical touch.

“You have no idea what it does to me when you let go. When you stop thinking and just feel.”

The pressure builds, his rhythm perfect, his eyes watching me with an intensity that should be unnerving but instead pushes me higher. Sweat beads at my hairline, my breath coming faster. He slides two fingers inside me, curving them just right, hitting that spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids, I can’t help it—a half gasp, half moan escapes my throat.

But instead of submitting to his rhythm, I grip his wrist, stilling his movements. His eyes widen in surprise.

“My turn,” I whisper, pushing against his chest until he’s flat on his back.

I straddle him in one fluid motion, my thighs bracketing his hips. The hunger in his eyes intensifies as I hover above him, my hair falling around us like a curtain. I take his hands and pin them beside his head, enjoying the way he could easily break my hold but doesn’t.

“Don’t hold back,” I echo his words back to him, my voice husky with desire. “Let me hear what I do to you.”

I rock against him, letting him feel how wet I am without giving him what he really wants. His hips buck upward instinctively, seeking more contact, but I lift slightly, denying him.

I release one of his hands to reach between us, guiding him to my entrance but not sinking down. Just the tip, just enough to make him groan, his free hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise.

“Elliot,” he growls, the warning clear in his voice.

I sink down an inch, then rise again, teasing us both. His chest heaves beneath me, muscles tight with restraint.

“What was that about my sounds?” I ask, circling my hips just enough to drive him mad. “Maybe I want to hear yours.”

When I finally sink all the way down, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion, he makes a noise I’ve never heard before—half grunt, half moan, completely unrestrained. The sound shoots straight through me, and I can’t help the gasp that escapes my throat.

“God, yes,” he groans, his own control visibly fraying. His cock twitches inside me, hot and hard.

I start to move, setting a pace designed to draw more of those noises from him. I plant my hands on his chest for leverage, feeling his heart hammering beneath my palm. His hands find my hips, not guiding, just holding on like I’m the only thing keeping him anchored to this world.

The pressure builds, my rhythm perfect, my eyes watching him with an intensity that pushes me higher. I circle my hips, finding the angle that hits just right, that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. When I find it, I can’t help it—a half gasp, half moan escapes my throat.

His eyes darken, pupils blown wide as he watches me move above him. “That’s it,” he encourages, one hand sliding up to cup my breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak. “Let me see you.”

I move faster, chasing my release, loving the power of taking what I want. The noise comes again, unbidden, uncontrolled as pleasure crests through me. I tighten around him, my movements becoming erratic as the waves hit.

“You have no idea,” I gasp as I come, “what that does to me.”

He rolls us then, a quick motion that leaves me breathless, my back pressed into the mattress. He hooks my legs over his elbows, opening me wider as he drives into me with renewed purpose.

Each thrust pulls another sound from me, breathless little moans I couldn’t hold back if I tried. He shifts, changing the angle, hitting deeper. The new position draws another of those helpless sounds from deep in my throat.

Suddenly he flips me over, his movements quick and decisive. The cool sheets press against my heated skin as his hands grasp my hips, pulling them up and back. His fingers dig into the flesh there, sure to leave marks that I’ll press tomorrow, remembering this moment.

“I need to see you,” he murmurs, one hand sliding up my back to tangle in my hair. He pulls, not enough to hurt but enough to arch my back just how he wants it. The position leaves me completely open to him. I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, teasing.

And then he’s inside me, pushing deep in one smooth thrust. I gasp at the stretch, the fullness, the way this angle lets him hit places that make my vision blur. He stills for a moment, both of us adjusting to the feeling.

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