Page 61 of Ruling Scar
But there’s a dog bed in his living room and hordes of plants everywhere. Dad would find that fascinating, considering he likes gardening too.
“You did a good job,” I compliment.
“Thanks, Leonora.” He sounds tired.
I close my eyes and try to sleep.
“Elijah?” I whisper.
He hums under his breath.
“Thanks for helping me.” I still believe he’s got a hidden agenda up his sleeve, but it’s appreciated nonetheless.
“Always.”
For some reason, I take the one word as a promise.
I wake up before my alarm, surprised at how well I slept. I shouldn’t feel so refreshed but the moment I closed my eyes, I went straight into a deep slumber.
I’m not groggy or confused. I slept on my side, facing Elijah and I stretch out my legs, the covers moving slightly.
Elijah turned onto his side during the night and I study his sleeping face. He’s calm and peaceful but even in sleep I sense dark demons hidden under his skin. In the past, I’d be apt to assume they were of his own making.
Now as his chest rises and falls softly, I can’t help but feel a sadness clinging to him.
The apartment is cozy but I wonder if it’s ever lonely.
He turns further onto his side, the blankets stretching between us. His arm slides out from under the duvet shifting them further.
And giving me a clear view of all of him.
I shamelessly stare at him, my cheek against the pillow, my eyes wide. His muscles are taut, his abs defined. And his cock. . .
My fingers curl into the blankets as I study him. There was one ill-advised hookup in college, but it never went further than a groping. Sure, I’ve seen pictures, but the truth is I’m horribly sexless.
I try not to be bothered by the fact. I’m a firm believer nobody should be shamed for the age they do or don’t lose their virginity.
But it’s another nagging reminder that I haven’t lived like others. I lack experiences because I’m too scared to live my life.
My hand reaches out on its own, my breath stilling. My fingers skim the sheets and then his skin as I wrap them around his awakening cock.
What are you doing, Lennie?
My thumb rubs up and down, my fingertips gently pressing.
Elijah stirs, breathing deeply. “Did you change your mind on somnophilia?”
Somebody shoot me now.
I retreat into the blankets, but Elijah’s next words hit me like molten lava.
“No, Leonora,” he rasps in a sleepy voice. “Finish what you started.”
I don’t know how and I’m afraid my red cheeks give it away.
“Wrap your hand around my cock again,” he orders.
My belly squirms.
