Dark Mysteries (19 page)

Ellie
took a deep breath, her thighs falling open to his curious hands. Her
eyes opened, looking at his. Waiting. Anticipating. But Xander's
fingers were slowly stroking the soft skin of her inner thighs,
drawing it out. Knowing how badly she needed it, but determined to
make her ask (or beg) for it. His finger slipped into the crease
where thigh met hip and a shudder ran through her body. “Oh, my
god,” she sighed, her hips moving upward, shameless in her
desire.

He
looked at her, his brow arched upward. Awaiting his orders. She
almost wanted to laugh. As if it wasn't painfully obvious what she
wanted. “Touch me,” she said, her voice barely a whisper,
her cheeks turning red.

But
he wasn't going to let her get away with it that easily. “Where?”
he asked, innocently.

Ellie
closed her eyes and took a breath, as if saying a silent prayer for
patience. She reached down, grabbing his hand and moving it inward.

“Ohhh,”
Xander said, leaning down and planting a kiss on her nose, “there.”

Ellie
was going to say something smart, snarky, but then his finger slipped
between her delicate folds and every thought flew out of her mind.

She
remembered this part, the finger testing to see if she was ready
before he jumped on top of her. Nothing romantic. Nothing sensual.

Nothing
like this. Xander's finger slid upward, working tiny small circles
around her clit. Ellie's knees came up off the mattress, her feet
planted, her hips moving into his hand. Needing more. Then his finger
started moving side to side and his mouth fell on hers again. Softer.
Sweeter. A kiss she could melt into.

The
pressure was building. Her body reaching for something just out of
reach. And then his finger slipped downward. With an almost-growl,
Ellie sunk her teeth into his lower lip as punishment, making him
grunt.

His
finger dipped lower still, pressing at her entrance, not pushing in
for an impossibly long time. She pushed her hips against his hand. He
pulled away, waiting for her eyes to open. Wanting to watch her as
his finger slipped slowly inside.

Xander
took a breath, watching her eyes widen as his finger slipped into her
tight, wet core. Once his finger was fully in, he paused. Waited.
Until her hips started to move against him. Then he pulled it halfway
out and back in. Slowly. So slowly it was almost painful.

It
wasn't enough. Ellie rocked her hips to meet him, the pressure only
building, becoming more overwhelming with no end in sight. She needed
him. She reached out, grabbing his side, pulling him, trying to make
him come over her.

Xander
smiled down at her, removing his hand and reaching across her body
for a small box he kept on the makeshift nightstand. She heard the
telltale crinkle. The sound that said she was safe. They were being
safe.

He
laid back on the bed, ignoring her hands trying to drag him back on
top of her. “Here,” he said, reaching for her hip and
pulling until she sat up. She knelt next to him, looking down,
confused. He stroked his hand down her thigh, grabbing her knee and
pulling her across his body until she was straddling him. “I
think this will be better,” he said, not wanting her to feel
trapped if he was on top of her. Not trusting himself to be able to
keep whatever pace that would be best for her.

Ellie
looked down at him, uncertain. In the past, sex had been strictly
missionary or from behind. She had never been given the opportunity
to be on top. She wasn't even entirely sure what she was really
supposed to do.

“Do
you want to stop?” he asked. Please, oh God, please say no. She
shook her head, looking down at him, her confusion plain on her face.
“Lift your hips, baby,” he said, one of his hands
slipping down to grab his cock. When she pulled herself upward, he
stroked his cock between her sensitive folds, moving up to rub around
her clit, then slipping back down and pressing against her entrance.
His hand slid down to the base, waiting.

She
rubbed against him a few times before slowly sinking her hips back
down, feeling his cock push past the threshold. There was a stinging,
a pinching, reminding her how long it had been, just barely
painful... the need so strong it quickly overtook the discomfort. She
took him in slowly, lost in the sensation of him widening her,
filling her impossibly full. She felt her hips push down on Xander's
hips just when she was sure she couldn't fit him any deeper inside.

She
opened her eyes, looking down at him, knowing she was smiling a
foolish, girly smile and not caring. Xander smiled back, reaching out
to take one of her hands in his. His other hand settled on her hip.

Ellie
grabbed his hand tighter, moving tentatively, unsure. She pushed her
hips forward, groaning as his cock pressed against her front wall,
hinting at a sensitive spot but not quite pressing against it. She
pulled her hips back slowly. “Oh,” she groaned, taking a
deep breath.

Xander
watched her as she slid up and down his body, trying to focus on her
enjoyment. Trying not to pay attention to his own need for release.
She was so fucking tight.

Ellie
pushed faster, feeling a tightening in her core, knowing if she could
push past it, there would be something amazing. Her hand pressed down
on Xander's stomach, her short nails cutting into his skin. She was
too lost in her own sensations to notice. Her head tipped back,
rocking against him, moaning wildly.

If
this was what sex was supposed to feel like, she had never really
experienced it before. The urging. The pleasure that was almost pain.
The unknown... begging her to push harder, faster.

“Baby,”
Xander's voice broke in, gravely and strained. She opened her eyes,
looking down at him, sweat glistening slightly on his chest. “Come
here,” he said, reaching for her arm to pull her forward.

Ellie
followed his direction, laying her body down on his, her arms
slipping under his shoulders.

He
needed to take control or she was going to drive him to the edge
before she got what she needed. His hands slid down her back to grab
her hips, holding them in place. He starting moving his hips upward,
his thrusts fast, almost frantic.

“Oh,”
Ellie cried out, her head falling down on his chest. “Oh, my
god,” she groaned out, her thighs tensing as he pushed into
her, deep, relentless, never giving her a second to have the desire
ebb. He pushed her mercilessly toward something that had every muscle
in her body rigid, sweat slick on her body. Her fingers bit into his
shoulders, her hips dropping down lower.

She
felt suspended for a second, her breath catching in her chest. Unable
to inhale or exhale. Unable to cry out as her orgasm hit her hard and
fast. Her fist slammed down into his arm as her body clenched over
and over, a sensation so strong that her entire body started to
shake. “Xander,” she strangled out finally, his thrusts
becoming wild as her body slowly continued to grab his cock.

His
fingers crushed into her hips as his hips thrust once more into her,
deep... deeper than before, pushing against the back wall as his body
tensed then shook as he came. “Fuck, Ellie,” he ground
out between clenched teeth, his hands keeping her hips pressed
roughly against him.

Ellie
collapsed onto his body, her face buried in the crook of his neck.
She felt completely and utterly drained, her bones felt liquid, her
muscles spent. Tears sprang to her eyes as she struggled to even out
her breathing. If that was what an orgasm was, she had never actually
experienced it before. She had always gotten to that point. That
point right before. That feeling of suspension, an all encompassing
awareness... but never knew what it was like when you pushed forward
through that and crashed downward.

Fireworks.
Those were the fireworks women always talked about. No description
she had ever heard even came close. It was a completely alien
sensation of being out of your body and yet, somehow, more in your
body than you ever have been before. Every nerve ending had
practically vibrated with her orgasm, leaving every inch of her
tingling afterward.

No
wonder people loved sex so much.

If
her legs weren't shaking, she would want to do it all over again. She
had been missing out for years. Her entire life.

Beneath
her, Xander's heart was slamming against her chest. His skin felt
feverish and sweaty. She took a deep breath, breathing him in,
wanting to remember exactly what that moment was like. His hands
moved up her back, stroking up and down her spine. She closed her
eyes and just... felt.

Xander
fought the urge to fall asleep that way... her covering him,
straddling his waist, him still inside her. He felt completely spent.
Every bit of strength had been drained. Damn if she hadn't been one
of the most satisfying sexual encounters in his life. There had been
plenty of nights at Lam, full of too much drinking and flirting,
women all-too willing to fall into bed with him. Fast, punishing sex.
Kinky sex.

But
sex with Ellie felt... explorative. Like she was experiencing
everything for the first time. Like each sensation was new and
exciting. And she so openly enjoyed herself, so fully threw herself
into the feelings that he had to bite hard into his lip to keep his
demanding orgasm at bay.

Finally,
he patted her butt and pushed at her hips until she rolled off of
him, her eyes small and sleepy. She laid on her side facing him, her
legs pulled up toward her chest, her hand slipping underneath the
pillow. Her hair was a wild mess around her face and her cheeks were
flushed. He leaned down, kissing her quickly on the lips. “Beautiful
Ellie,” he said to himself, but she felt the words with a
fluttering in her belly.

He
climbed out of bed, fully naked, without any kind of
self-consciousness and walked into the bathroom.

Ellie
brought her hands up to her face, wanting to squeal with whatever
feelings were trapped inside her. She rolled onto her back, kicking
her legs against the mattress, feeling the sex-sedated weight of them
and smiling wider. She heard the water in the bathroom. Scooting the
blankets down, she slipped under, rolling back onto her side. Like
nothing had happened. Like she didn't just have a little victory
dance.

Xander
walked back in, glorious naked Xander, tilting his head to the side
at her. Because she was still grinning her silly grin. He walked over
to the bed, moving the blankets aside and climbing in next to her.

She
had expected him to roll away from her and fall asleep. That was her
experience in the past. But then he laid down on his side next to her
and his arms were reaching toward her, pulling her against his body,
his head coming down on top of hers.

And
he just... held her.

Ellie
snaked her arm around his back, holding on too tightly and not
caring. It felt too nice to be held to worry that she might seem
needy or clingy. His arms only squeezed her tighter and she nuzzled
her face against his chest and felt herself slowly start to drift off
to an exhausted sleep.

Fifteen

She
woke up groggy. Squinting into the bright room, completely at a loss
for what time of day it could be. Morning? Afternoon? When had they
finally fallen asleep?

Sometime
during the night, Xander had rolled onto his back, pulling her with
him. She had been sleeping pressed up against his side, her face on
his chest. One of her legs was wrapped across his waist. The blankets
were at their feet.

Xander
was still un-moving beneath her. She glanced up to make sure his eyes
were still closed before she started running her fingers over his
skin. The hard knots of muscle, the dips by his hips, the strange
smoothness of scars. Her fingers stroked the big, nasty-looking one
up his side when she felt his arm squeeze her tighter.

How
long had he been awake? Knowing she was just... really into his scar?
She felt her face heat at the idea, her fingers faltering. Feeling
the need to explain, she took a breath, and asked, “How did you
get this?”

Xander
took an exaggerated breath underneath her, yawning. His hand moved
down her arm to her wrist, pulling off her hair band and stroking the
mark he found there. “I'll tell you that,” he said,
sounding half-asleep still, “if you tell me how you got this.”

Ellie's
hand froze, hovering over his skin. Because she wanted to tell him.
She actually wanted to take a breath and tell him every awful, sordid
thing that Nick had done to her while she lived with him. What he did
when he caught up with her on occasion. All the horrors that weren't
physical scars but hurt just as much.

Xander
kept stroking the scar, waiting. “I know there is more to the
stalker story, baby,” he said, hoping it might open up the line
of communication.

Of
course he did. Because he was good at what he did. He knew stalkers.
He knew victims of stalking. And she didn't fit that mold.

She
bit into her lip. She could tell him. Tell him without actually...
telling him. He didn't need to know who. That would only make it more
complicated. But she could tell him the whats. The things that made
her look over her shoulder, the things that made her scream in her
sleep. She could tell him that. And, more, she wanted to tell him.