Page 221 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

“My lovely girl,” he whispers against my skin, his fingers pumping faster, driving me over the edge

He purrs, his voice dropping into that dark, low frequency. “You want to come, don’t you? You want to pour all those sweet juices on my tongue, huh?”

“Yes, yes,” I whisper, my breath hitching as the tension between us reaches a breaking point. Elias moves with a rhythmic grace, his focus entirely on me.

He seems to know exactly how to stay on the edge of that overwhelming sensation, balancing perfectly between restraint and release. He is a man used to control, but here, in the quiet of this room, that control is focused solely on my comfort and pleasure.

“Come on, Seraphina, stay with me,” he murmurs, his voice a low vibration that resonates through my entire being.

“Let go of the ghosts for a moment. Just be here with me.”

His touch is intentional, a silent command that pulls me further into the moment. I find myself leaning into him, my hands gripping the quilt as I seek more of his warmth. The world outside the bedroom, the cases, the mysteries, the shadows fade into insignificance compared to the intensity of his presence.

Elias’s dark eyes remain locked on mine, searching for every reaction, every shift in my expression. I feel a surge of affection and trust for him that goes far deeper than the physical. When the moment finally breaks, it feels like a release of years of solitude, a crashing wave of relief and connection that leaves me breathless.

“That’s it,” he says softly, his praise a gentle anchor as the intensity begins to fade.

The silence that follows is heavy and sweet, filled only with the sound of our erratic breathing. As the adrenaline recedes, the physical toll of our recent struggles begins to settle back into my limbs, but it’s softened by the heat of his proximity. I look at him, seeing the same vulnerability mirrored in his gaze that I feel in my own heart.

“Elias,” I murmur, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

He clears his throat, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the lingering intensity in his eyes.

“Thank you, baby,” he says softly.

Elias

"That's it," I murmured, the words barely louder than the crackle of the fire somewhere beyond the bedroom walls.

The praise wasn't meant to soothe her. It soothed me. For the first time in longer than I cared to admit, the constant noise inside my head had gone quiet. The silence between us settled like snowfall. Heavy. Warm. Sacred. Neither of us spoke.

The only sound filling the room was the uneven rhythm of our breathing as reality slowly returned. Every muscle in my body felt spent, but it wasn't exhaustion that held me still.

It was her. She reached toward me with trembling fingers, brushing a damp strand of hair away from my forehead with a tenderness I wasn't sure I deserved.

My eyes lifted to hers. Dark brown. Still glossy. Still shining. There was colour in her cheeks now a soft warmth blooming beneath the bruises Collins had left behind. The afterglow softened every sharp edge she carried, making her look impossibly young for a fleeting second.

Beautiful.

God...

She was beautiful.

I could still taste her on my lips. Still smell her shampoo lingering beneath the scent of antiseptic and her. Still feel the way she'd clung to me like I was something solid enough to keep the rest of the world away.

A smile found me before I could stop it. Small and crooked but so real.

"Thank you, baby," I said quietly.

Her expression faltered. The smile she'd been wearing disappeared almost instantly.

"Elias..."

Something tightened low in my chest. She only used that tone when she was about to tell me something bad.

"What is it?"

She looked down at our hands instead of at me.