Page 220 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

The certainty in his voice breaks something inside me. I don't see Detective Elias Reed anymore. I see a man carrying far too many ghosts. His fingers remain against my skin. Steady. Grounding. The ache in my ribs fades beneath the warmth blooming somewhere much deeper. Touching Elias has never felt ordinary. It never will. Every brush of skin feels like recognition as though some forgotten part of my soul has finally found its way home. Time slows. The cottage grows impossibly quiet. Only our breathing exists. Only the space between us. His hand slips away as he finally reaches into the medical bag.

"Let me make it better for you baby. Give me your face."

I lean forward ignoring the sting of pain in my ribs. He pulls out antiseptic and fresh gauze. The pain reduces, trickling down from my mind as a sudden lust boils in my stomach, rising from the temperature of my body, making my thighs tighten and my core ache. He starts cleaning my wounds. Starting from my face wiping away the blood then blowing the sterile swab residue clean bandaging my scars.

Slowly he works his way down until he is by torso, leaning further down he forces my legs open to make space for his broad shoulders. The warmth of his skin touching my inner thighs makes me shiver. He keeps checking, looking around touching my ribs, the cuts as if he doesn’t know how intimate this is as if my nipples aren't pebbles trying to greet him wanting his touch.

I gasp as he moves closer, the towel has moved between my legs hiding my most intimate part from his view. I look down at his face. He looks as if he is still concentrating on the bruises. His mouth hovers right over the middle of my stomach, less than an inch from one of the scars as he takes the alcohol swab to disinfect and blows on the wound next. Feeling the bandage being placed I almost sigh in relief. Falling backwards on the bed knowing he will stand up now that he has cleaned and bandaged all my wounds, but when I don’t feel him move I push up on my elbows. Hearing him whisper.

“Fuck it.”

Sucking in a sharp breath I feel his lips touch me, the wet feeling of his tongue swirling against my skin. Looking down at his dark hair, watching him. He shakes his head

“I’m sorry Seraphina,” he mutters, and every movement of his lip’s echoes deep in my center.

“Fuck it, I can’t anymore Seraphina Calloway. You are mine and I can’t spend another second without making sure you know it. You watch me, you said you exist for me.”

Blissful agony spreads throughout my bones, so overwhelming that I don’t even notice his sneaky fingers pulling the towel. It’s only when the cool air of his room brushes against my slicked folds that I notice I’m bared naked in front of him. Completely exposed. Vulnerable.

“What does that make you?” I ask on a gasp, glancing down just in time to watch his head move farther south. I shiver from déjà vu, remembering having this exact fantasy a few days ago just after he kissed me after feeling his lips on mine.

“I’m the man you exist for.” His bottom lip drags past my belly button, making my stomach quiver.

“Your smile, your laugh, your scent. You had me at your mercy since I saw you dragging that big sparkly fucking pink bag around.”

He bows his head, placing a tender kiss on my inner thigh, his hands gripping the backs of my legs, stroking them with gentle, sweeping loops as if he is afraid, I’d split beneath his touch. My heart soars with my body. Every fiber of my being is burning beneath his warm touch. The tightness that takes over my chest and core is almost unbearable. I feel as if I could explode, and he’s barely done anything.

The hands of a protector tap the top of my knees, demanding entrance hands that have protected when he could’ve hurt. My thighs part further, giving him access. Scarred and hard, it could only be these hands I need.

“Sweet, so very sweet for me, baby” he hums.

My erratic breathing pumps my chest up and down at a rapid pace. I want his mouth on my lips on my skin on my pussy, aching for him in a way that can only be described as a total fever.

“Elias,” I whimper. “Please, I need…” I whimper.

“You need?”

My eyes meet his, catching the piercing, fixed stare he gives me.

“Your lips, everything. Anything. Just… please.”

The first swipe of his tongue against my folds drags a heavy moan from deep inside of me. Bolts of lightning buzz across my lower half, and nothing has ever made me feel more alive. He licks up and down, dragging through my folds, tasting me with a guttural groan that vibrates my core.

“Am I the reason your desperate pussy tastes so good? Does she want to be sweet for me?”

My eyes roll back as I nod, my hips arching off the bed to chase the friction of his wet mouth. When his tongue swirls around my clit, pulling the sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth, I jerk into him.

Elias’s body is warm, but his mouth is incredibly hot, pouring liquid heat straight into my pussy, filling my insides with a fire unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. He takes his time, savouring every inch, discovering every spot that makes me weak.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as he begins to pay special attention to my clit, swirling his warm tongue in tight circles, rapid motions . So close. So. Close.

“Elias.” I sucked in a shaky breath, his finger pressing against my entrance, teasing me for only a second before sinking straight into my tight walls.

Something inside of me clicks like the flash of a camera, this beautiful, terrifying flash that is taking this awful thing that was done to me and is rewriting what this evening means to me.

So that later, when I think back to what happened tonight or I look at the scars on my stomach, I won't remember those horrid men or that concrete warehouse. I’ll remember Elias on his knees in front of me, his mouth devouring me and his fingers exploring my body.

I stare down, watching as he slides another finger inside of me. My whimpers slip from my lips with absolutely no restraint, not caring that I’m pushing my hips into his hand because I’m so completely needy. I’ll be needy. I’ll be desperate. I’ll be these things and more just to have him. He never removes his eyes from me, not even as my hands slam into the green quilted coverlet, digging deep into the mattress as that coil inside me threatens to break.