Page 79 of Cold Front
I got the next one right. And the next. And each time, Eli rewarded me, his kisses wandering lower, his hands becoming bolder, until the line between studying and something far more heated blurred entirely.
By the time I answered a particularly tricky problem correctly, Eli had me flat on my back, breathless and wrecked. His mouth trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my chest, each press of his lips branding me, making my skin tingle in their wake. His fingers toyed with the waistband of my sweats, teasing, promising.
My muscles tensed, a coil of anticipation twisting tighter with every second. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. Every nerve in my body was alive, aware of Eli—his touch, his warmth, the way he was looking at me like he wanted to feast on me.
“Eli—” My voice was rough, barely more than a rasp.
He hummed, the sound vibrating against my skin as he hooked his fingers into my waistband, tugging them down with agonizing slowness. “You earned this, Niall,” he murmured, voice like silk, full of something dark and delicious.
A shudder rolled through me. I barely had time to process the words before his mouth was on me—warm, wet, and perfect.
My body jerked, pleasure hitting me like a live wire, hot and immediate. A guttural sound ripped from my throat, something I couldn’t hold back even if I wanted to. My hands flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as my brain short-circuited from the sheer sensation.
“Fuck—Eli—” My voice broke, barely coherent.
He made a pleased sound, and the vibration sent another sharp jolt of pleasure straight through me. His tongue, his mouth—God. He moved with devastating precision, like he already knew exactly what would drive me insane, like he’d mapped me out before I’d even realized I could be touched like this.
“You’re so good for me,” he murmured, pausing just long enough to press a kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Took you a few tries to get that one right, but see? You got there.”
I barely heard him, my mind too fogged, my body too consumed with pure sensation.
And then he swallowed me down again, deeper, and I nearly lost it.
My thighs trembled, my abs tightening as heat curled low in my belly. Every drag of his lips, every flick of his tongue sent lightning through me. I was coming undone, a mess of gasps and moans, of broken syllables that barely formed his name. He owned me in this moment, and fuck, I didn’t even care.
Eli’s hands gripped my hips, holding me down even as I instinctively bucked up, chasing more, chasing everything he was giving me. I was so close, the pleasure overwhelming, pushing me toward the edge so fast it was almost too much.
“Let go,” Eli whispered, voice dark, wrecked. “I got you, Niall. Just let go.”
And I did.
I shattered, pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense my vision blurred, stars exploding behind my eyelids. A sharp cry ripped from my throat as Eli didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, just stayed there, taking everything I gave him, drinking me down like he couldn’t get enough.
When the last tremors finally faded, I slumped back against the bed, completely wrecked. My chest heaved, my skin burning, my body boneless. I felt Eli’s mouth on my hip, pressing a soft, almost reverent kiss there before he finally crawled back up beside me, his face smug with satisfaction.
“Best tutoring session ever?” he asked, voice infuriatingly smug.
I let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, dragging a hand over my face. “You’re gonna kill me.”
He grinned, lazy and pleased, draping an arm over my chest. “Nah. I need you alive for the final.”
I groaned, burying my face against his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”
“But you love it,” he teased, his lips brushing against my temple.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Because yeah. I really, really did.
CHAPTER29
ELI
Warm lamplight spilled over the pages of my textbook as I sat cross-legged on my bed, highlighter poised but utterly useless in my hand. I should’ve been reading.
I wasn’t.
Instead, I watched my boyfriend across the room, hunched over my desk, completely absorbed in his Stats notes, the steady scratch of his pen the only sound between us. The soft glow of my desk lamp caught on the sharp angles of his face. His jaw was tight in focus, brows furrowed in that way that made him look both intimidating and unfairly attractive.
He’d been putting in the work, and it showed. Stats hadn’t come easy to him, but he never half-assed anything. Watching him now—determined, disciplined, completely locked in—I felt a quiet swell of pride.
