Breaking Him Page 4

  My nipples were hard and aching, and the fear had subsided to a low hum at the base of my skull. The need to banish it completely, to have Eli be the one to chase it away, was becoming impossible to resist. He confused me and turned me on like no one and nothing else ever had. The mix of innocence, his size and strength, and that undercurrent of danger and iron control had my head spinning, made me swollen and wet with the need to be fucked hard. The need to have the impressive cock that I was currently grinding against thrusting in and out of me deep and hard.

  My hand shaking, I reached back and grabbed his, sliding it to my front. The pulse on the inside of his wrist as I turned it and pressed it against my aching breast was pounding thick and fast. I whimpered from the contact. “Please. Please make me forget, Eli.” I barely recognized my own voice, so filled with unrestrained desperation.

  He shuddered, his entire body convulsing under me, then I was off his lap and planted on the couch beside him. At first I thought he was pushing me away, but then his eyes lowered to the front of my jeans and his trembling hands followed, grasping the button, popping it, then sliding down the zipper.

  Oh God, I was on fire, burning the hell up.

  Gripping the denim on either side of my hips, he slowly dragged my jeans down my legs and threw them aside. His nostrils flared when he stared down at my pink underwear, growling when I parted my thighs shamelessly. His hand dropped to my thigh, so wide it spanned the width, then slid higher until it reached the point my thigh ended and the aching heart of me began.

  He swiped his thumb over my opening, through the soaked fabric of my panties, and I bucked and arched. His eyes darted to my face, then down again as he snagged the fabric at my hip and tore right through. I gasped in surprise, and his eyes immediately shot back to mine.

  He paled. “Sorry…”

  I shook my head. “No. I liked it. Don’t apologize.”

  “You did?” His gruff question had my heart squeezing. It also had liquid heat sliding down the crack of my ass, had me throbbing so hard and deep inside it was like my sex had its own heartbeat.

  I released a shaky breath. “Can’t you feel how wet I am, Eli? That’s for you. You make me so hot I ache.”

  His wild stare dropped between my thighs again, and he tore through the other side of my underwear before I could drag in another breath. Then he growled and pressed his thumb between my swollen lips, sliding up to my clit, then down to tease my slick entrance. I collapsed against the couch cushions, arching so hard my back hurt. It didn’t matter, though; the only thing I was aware of was the ache between my thighs, the burning need to come, to have one of those thick fingers shove deep inside me. I whimpered again, begging, “Please. Please, Elijah.”

  A tormented sound burst from him, his rough palm covering me, applying much-needed pressure. My tightly shut eyes drifted open as I tried to grind down on his palm.

  He leaned over me, eyes dark with lust and wide with concern, with a helplessness that tore me apart. “Tell me,” he rasped. “Tell me what to do to make it better, darlin’.”

  Chapter Four

  His deep, smoky voice slid through me, adding to the out-of-control feeling coiled tight in my belly. He was killing me—the way he moved, his harsh breathing, it all just sent me higher. I was nothing but sweet, delicious agony, and every twitch, every subtle movement of that wide palm resting against my sensitive flesh, made it hurt so much more. Made it so much better.

  I’d never experienced hunger like this, or this extreme intensity. What Elijah had me feeling caused a pleasure-pain that was almost too much to take. I panted, trying to catch my breath. He was still staring down at me, eyes dark, intent, concerned. He ground his palm against me again and I cried out, lifting my hips as best I could so I could grind back. My skin was fevered, slick, tight, my whole body throbbing, aching.

  “Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he demanded roughly.

  I furiously shook my head and reached down, wrapping my fingers around his wrist, holding him there, scared he’d go away. I’d die if he stopped. “I’m close, Eli,” I managed to gasp out, then stared him in the eyes. “Push your finger inside me…you know…you know what I need…” A wave of indescribable heat pounded through me, cutting off my words. I squeezed my eyes shut, undulating against the cushions. No longer human. A thing, a creature. Sex and need, nothing else, nothing more. The only thoughts in my head now were of Eli, of how badly I needed him to get me off.

  He tugged the bottom of my shirt, and my eyes shot open. He gripped the material in his fingers and dragged it up, pulling it off completely with one hand. His gaze dropped to my chest, and without a word, he slid those fingers under the front of my bra and tore it off like he had my panties. My breasts bounced free and my hard nipples pebbled further, tightened almost unbearably when the air hit them—when Eli’s heated stare landed on them.

  Then I couldn’t think anymore, could only concentrate on breathing and not hyperventilating when he spread me open with his fingers and pushed one inside. At the same time his other hand engulfed one of my breasts, squeezing and tugging.

  “Oh God. That feels so good.” My eyes drifted closed, and I was washed away on a wave of pleasure. I rolled my hips against his hand, encouraging him to go deeper, move faster—to fuck me with his fingers until I screamed.

  “Open your eyes,” he gritted.

  They felt weighted down, but I forced them open. His voice held a rough command that I found impossible to ignore. His dark chocolate stare trapped mine, and I held my breath, biting my lip as he slid out of me, then pushed back in, this time adding a second finger. He stretched me with his fingers, shoving deeper, moving faster.

  “Shit,” I said on a gasp. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” My eyes were still so heavy, but the way he watched me demanded I not look away, that all my focus stay on him. It was intimate, making my belly squirm, and I was powerless to do anything but give him what he was asking from me.

  His gaze turned more intense, more focused, then he slid his thumb over my clit, the broad callused pad pressing into the oversensitive bundle of nerves. I bucked and moaned, near out of my damn mind.

  “Talk to me, Abigail. Tell me if it feels good.” His voice was gruff, urgent, with an undercurrent of concern.

  “Yes!” I dug my nails into his skin, close to begging.

  His breath came out on a shaky exhale, then he leaned over me, using some of his weight to hold me down, and finger-fucked me deep and fast.

  He didn’t take his eyes off me once, watching my reactions to his touch, to what he was doing to me. He slid his thumb over my clit again, and I shuddered, a sob bursting past my lips. Something flashed through his gaze then, something I couldn’t name, couldn’t process, before he dipped his head and sucked one of my hard, aching nipples into his mouth, surrounding it in wet heat, and tugged with his lips.

  I screamed, my orgasm slamming into me so hard it felt like an out-of-body experience. My inner muscles clamped down on his fingers repeatedly, and I moaned and writhed and whimpered through every spasm, lost to sensation.

  When I finally came back to myself, Elijah’s harsh breaths filled my ears. He was moving, quick, jerky. I opened my eyes, and another moan slid past my lips. He was hovering over me, fist planted in the cushion by my head, shirt off, jeans undone—cock in hand.

  The vein in his neck pulsed heavy and hard, strain lining his rugged features. He gasped when our eyes met, widening like he’d been hit by a dose of reality. Like he’d been knocked out of the haze of lust we’d both been submerged in.

  “I’m sorry…” He made a sound, deep and raw. “But I have to…”

  I shook my head. “Don’t…don’t ever apologize for taking what you need. Not from me.” Then I did something I’d never done before, never cared to, but now the idea had me burning up all over again. Reaching down, I grabbed his hips. “Come here.” I scooted down as he shuffled up. His cock was unbearably hard, thick and veined, the tip slick. I wanted i
t inside me more than anything, but I didn’t know if Eli was ready for that. So instead I gripped his dick, slicking pre-come down his ridged length, lubing him up as best as I could, and guided him to my chest. His cock was heavy and hot, resting between my tits, and I grabbed the aching mounds and squeezed them tight around his iron-hard length.

  He hissed. “What are you…?” I squeezed harder. “Ah…shit.” His hips snapped forward.

  “That’s it, Eli…move,” I encouraged.

  His heavy thighs were on either side of me, and I stared up over his tight washboard abs, defined pecs, and to that strong jaw. His mouth was held in a grim line—then he groaned, the sound trailing off before he thrust again. His bottom lip slid between his teeth, and he bit down.

  He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  His lids lowered then, and he stared down at me, down at his cock as it slid between my breasts. His broad cheekbones were flushed. His eyes filled with the same mindless lust he’d made me feel a short time ago. He didn’t look away as his thrusts got more erratic, as he grunted and moaned, chest pumping with each heavy breath.

  The man was exquisite.

  Then he growled, his hands coming down over mine, squeezing my tits around his cock tighter. “Abigail.”

  The way he said my name set off tingles across my scalp, then his mouth dropped open and a guttural, belly-zapping sound exploded past his lips.

  Hot come splashed my neck, my chin, slicking the way as he continued to pump his hips, milking every last drop. He cursed and moaned through it, not slowing until his cock began to soften.

  He stayed above me for several seconds, eyes closed, drawing in big lungfuls of oxygen through his nose, trying to catch his breath.

  When his eyes finally opened they were a little wild, unreadable, and butterflies started fluttering inside my belly. He lifted his hands from mine and pulled back, tilting his hips away. He eased off the couch, down to the floor beside me, so he was on his knees. I couldn’t read his expression, but as his gaze trailed over me, the almost fierce intensity there turned to something else, something that looked a lot like awe. My mouth went dry.

  He lowered his hand to my ankle, starting a slow, torturous ascent, his touch featherlight, rasping against my skin. Despite my overheated condition, goose bumps prickled my flesh as he continued higher. Over my thigh, my hip, my stomach, then finally up between my breasts. He slid his hand from my chest to my neck, fingers lightly circling it. He held there for several seconds, thumb sliding across my chin, then down, back to my chest. He started rubbing his come over my breasts, down farther to my belly. He almost seemed in a trance, and for the longest time, I lay there while he ran his hands over my body, not moving, afraid if I did, I’d destroy whatever was happening.

  His eyes lifted to mine and held. “Beautiful,” he rasped. “So small, delicate.”

  My heart stuttered to a stop, then exploded into action, beating like crazy. I didn’t know what to say. I was the experienced one here, and I had nothing. Not. A. Thing. All I could do was watch him watch me, those powerful hands I’d admired for so long moving across my skin like they were worshipping me—taking ownership of me.

  I liked the way it felt. Too much.

  Then he leaned down and placed a soft, reverent kiss to my forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured.

  When he lifted his head, my hands moved like they had a mind of their own, sliding along his whiskered jaw, and I pulled him down. He came, didn’t try to pull back, and I pressed my lips to his before I could question my actions. We’d never kissed; it seemed weird considering all we had done. The intimacy we’d shared. And I wanted to kiss him, badly.

  But when our lips met, he froze, his massive body turning to stone. I softened mine more, brushing them over his, trying to coax a response from him. Reaching around, I threaded my fingers in the hair at his nape, my other hand sliding down over his shoulder, the now-trembling muscle of his monster biceps. My stomach sank. Oh God, he wasn’t responding. I was about to pull back, but before I did, I darted my tongue out, selfishly getting the taste of him I craved. That’s when he made a sound between a gasp and a groan and leaned in, pressing his mouth more firmly to mine, and finally returned my kiss.

  His lips were cautious at first, testing, ghosting over mine. I felt the change in him when it happened. When he went from testing to exploring. The way he pushed back, the way his breathing quickened, huffing in and out of his nose.

  Then his mouth opened over mine and his tongue made a tentative dip inside, and oh dear God, it was good. I clung to him tighter, and he growled into my mouth, lowering more of his weight on me, catching me up in his massive arms, and deepened the kiss. He kissed me until my head spun, tongue sliding against mine in a way that left me breathless, and I was hot for him all over again.

  Finally, he lifted his head, and if someone had asked me how I was feeling at that moment, I would have struggled to find the words. It was bright and dark at the same time. Light and heavy all at once. And I wanted more of it, as much as he’d give me.

  I forced an easy smile when he looked down at me, when that was far from what I was feeling. “You’re a good kisser, Eli Hays.” My voice shook. “Good” was an understatement. Especially since I was guessing that was his first real kiss. Something else I couldn’t get my head around.

  His cheeks darkened again in that way I liked so much, but as usual he didn’t hide or show he was embarrassed by my words. He didn’t say anything, either, or move, he just watched me, weighing my expression like he always did.

  Doubt unfurled in my belly. “You’re okay, with what…with what we did here?”

  Something wicked flickered in his now-glittering eyes. It was sexy as hell. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The air around us pulsed, shifted. With that one look, Eli had turned the tables on me, letting me know I hadn’t led him; he’d taken what he wanted. Like he could see right inside me, like he knew what I hid in the deepest recesses of my heart. I couldn’t hold his stare any longer. It was too intense. I looked away. “Are you hungry? I was going to make some dinner.”

  He dipped his chin and stood. I missed his hands on me instantly. After tucking himself in his jeans, he strode to the bathroom. I was on my feet, pulling on my jeans, commando, since he’d torn my panties, when he walked back in. I could go and get underwear from my room, but I was kind of afraid he’d leave if I left him alone for even a minute. I didn’t want him to leave, not yet. He stopped in front of me, halting me when I bent to pick up my shirt. Then slowly, carefully, like I was made of the finest bone china, he dragged a warm, damp cloth over my throat, down over my breasts and belly, cleaning him off me.

  Elijah Hays was a man of few words, but his actions somehow did his talking for him. His tender ministrations felt right, perfect, and I edged closer, unable to help myself as he took care of me.

  When he was done, he reached down, grabbed my shirt, and finished dressing me. He liked that, too, a lot. I could tell by the look on his face. It was the same expression he got when he watched me eat. A deep satisfaction that made me warm all over.

  When he stepped back, I had to stop myself from swaying toward him. I plastered a smile on my face, hoping like hell I hid the way his actions affected me. “I’ll go make dinner.”

  …

  I sipped my coffee and glanced out the window. Eli was working with the mare in the training pen. She was dancing away from the halter in his hand. He dropped it to his side and moved in closer. Running his hand along her nose, he lifted it again. She didn’t dance away this time…and he slipped it on…

  “You know Kyle’s been flapping his gums around town?” Cassie said across from me at the kitchen table.

  I hadn’t meant to be so obvious. I sipped my coffee to hide my reaction to her words and turned to her. “What’s that jackass been saying?”

  “That Elijah attacked him, unprovoked.” Her eyebrow hiked up.

  “That slimy little toad. Eli didn’t attack
him, he sent him packing when Kyle wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was protecting me.” I snorted. “And Kyle nearly crapped his own pants. That’s what has him so pissed. The man looked ready to faint when he saw who’d shoved him in his car.”

  Cassie made a hmmm sound. “I know your dad had a soft spot for the boy, but he’s gone now. You don’t need to keep him here anymore if he makes you uncomfortable. There’s plenty of people that could do his job.”

  I stared at my friend, surprised by what she’d just said, unease unfurling inside me. “Why would Eli make me uncomfortable?” Okay, he had a time or two, but not in the way Cassie meant. He had me squirming and aching for him, but never scared, never that. “He’s a good man, Cass.”

  She shook her head. “People in town say…”

  “Since when do you pay attention to what the gossips say? If what they say he did is true, it happened when he was just a boy. He’s a grown man now. From then to now, he’s done nothing to deserve the hate and fear he gets from them. They have nothing better to do than make up stories, spouting their poison as fact. Those people know nothing about him, not really. Kyle is the one at fault here, and you know it. And to be honest, I don’t know what would’ve happened if Eli hadn’t stepped in.” I got to my feet and dumped the rest of my coffee in the sink. “Tell your gossips that.”

  I turned to Cassie, and she blinked up at me from her seat at my table, then she stood and placed her own cup in the sink. “Well, then. I’m glad he was here to look out for you.” She rested her hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You have a soft heart, girl. Just like your dad, you give everyone the benefit of the doubt. But, honey, I want you to be careful now that you’re here on your own with him. Don’t let that handsome face blind you. Something isn’t right with that man…the way he doesn’t talk, it just isn’t…natural.”