Page 35 of Hideaway Whirlwind
“Elliott.” Her hands are in my hair as I kiss my way down her body, rubbing my forehead back and forth along the firm swell of her lower abdomen. “I have to.”
“No, you don’t.” I lie on my stomach and part her thighs to fit my shoulders so I can inhale her scent and kiss her pussy. “Stay with me.” I push my tongue inside her before licking up to massage her clit while she grips my hair, pulling me closer until she’s all but smothering me, comforting me. I love it.
The animalistic need to fully claim her consumes me when she cries out with her orgasm after I fuck her with two fingers while sucking her clit. She yelps when I flip her over onto her hands and knees. I know I’m going too fast, unable to control myself, when I curl my body over hers, hands on the mattress beside her head, and push inside her to the hilt in one thrust.
“Stay with me, Mama,” I beg, then sink my teeth into the crook of her shoulder. “Stay, stay, stay,” I chant like a spell as I stroke in and out of her, our thighs clapping together like thunder, the room filled with the sounds of our pleasure andthe cloying scent of my desperation. “Stay with me,” I repeat when I go hurtling off the edge and cum inside the woman I want by my side for the rest of my life, as short as that will be.
“I can’t,” she whispers with a croak, her body shaking with the aftershocks of rushed pleasure beneath me, her pussy pulsing around my spent cock.
I swallow, dropping my head beside hers on the mattress and nuzzling her cheek. “Why, Birdie? Why?”
Chapter 16
Teagan
Elliott reluctantly pulls out of me and rolls off, gathering me close so we’re lying on our sides, chest to chest. “Why can’t you stay?” He presses a kiss to my forehead, caressing my hip, my thigh, my waist.
I tip my head back and lay my hand on his cheek, lightly playing with his beard for the last time. He’s so handsome. So wonderful. So confused. “This was only ever temporary. I was always going to leave once the freeze was over,” I say quietly. “You knew that.”
“It doesn’t have to be temporary,” this big, brutal man says with a hitch in his voice, kissing the tip of my nose when I dip my chin. “We could be a family.” He slips his hand between us to lay his palm flat against my stomach. “It already feels like we are.”
My heart thumps hard at that—what a dream it would be. And that is precisely why I have to say, “No. No, I can’t do this again.” I push his hand away and roll onto my back out of his hold, swallowing the shrill note that creeps into my voice. When Elliott reaches for me, I finish rolling offthe bed, squeezing my thighs together and searching the dark for my clothes.
“Do what?” Elliott is out of bed, standing between me and the door.
It’s a straight shot of adrenaline into my veins when he crowds me against the mattress, taking the T-shirt I’d found and balling it up to throw it across the room, preventing me from getting dressed.
“Move out of my way,” I demand with an icy tone.
Wounded, Elliott takes a small step back, his face a mask of sorrow in the moonlight. “Birdie, please.”
“No!” I snap, breaking inside, hating how upset I am thathe’supset, and that it’s all my fault. I rush to pull on my clothes and leave so he can’t drag me into bed again…not that I would necessarily hate it, which is all the more reason to leave.
Elliott hurries to get dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants so he can follow on my heels out of the bedroom, as he’s been doing ever since Davis came and went. Instead of going to the spare bedroom, where he would follow me inside and might wake the kids, I head for the living room.
“Please answer my question.”
I spin and hold my hand out to stop him. “I won’t fall for another man’s lies and let him trap me again! I won’t do it!”
“I’m not lying. This isn’t a trap. It’s us. We’re good together.”
“We’re not together,” I say with a shake of my head, crossing my arms, straining to lift my mental shield back up.
His mouth drops open several times before he says, “I don’t understand. You came to me every night. Every night, Birdie.”
“To thank you, that’s it,” I say, though it doesn’t completely ring true.
It’s as if Elliott hits an invisible wall, rocking back on his bare feet. “To thank me? Withsex?” he stresses, horror draining the sex-induced warm flush from his cheeks. “You never wanted me. It was just…some kind of payment?”
“Yes. You knew that.”Didn’t he?Didn’t I?
Elliott shakes his head fast, backing away. “No. No, I didn’t. I never would have let youthank melike that.”
My stomach hollows as I start second-guessing myself, not as confident in my assertions when I say, “But you…the way you look at me when I put the kids to bed each night…”
“What look?” he asks, bewildered.
“Expectant.” I motion to the hallway. “You waited up for me every night.”
