Bree Portman has a rather unusual job. She is paid to kill people, and her next target is the one and only Elijah Lancaster - her ex-best friend.
He is known to be a man whore, and it seems that he 'accidentally' slept with a married woman. Now, som...
He gets me face down on my bed. The cotton sheets are soft against my skin. "Keep your hands on top of your head. Don't move them. Understand?" He slaps my ass. Hard.
It leaves behind a stinging sensation. "Yes." My shaking hands tangle above my head, staying together with an invisible bondage.
"You belong to me now. Any objections?"
"No." Not one.
He presses my head down into the mattress and slaps my ass again harder. "No, sir."
"No, sir."
The room is lit by the moonlight from the window. Elijah's large, heavy hand presses down on my back to keep me in place. It sends a wave of heat through my body.
The pace of my heart has continuously inclined from the moment he walked through the door. Now it's about to leap straight out of my body and run off down the street.
What is he going to do to me? I am both nervous and excited to find out. It causes knots in my stomach.
I haven't felt this in . . . Ever. It had been a long time since I felt anything, until I had Elijah back in my life.
My eyes fall closed. I picture us. Tangled in the sheets. His deep, breathless moans in my ear. His hands pinning mine down to the bed. His lips exploring every inch of my body. Hot skin sliding against mine.
Whoa. My hands grab fistfuls of the sheets.
His free hand slides down my body, caressing my back, then my ass. He tugs off my black tights aggressively and moans at the sight of my favourite lacy underwear.
"Wait." My mind feels like earphones that have been tangled in someone's pocket.
He doesn't make another move. I can still feel his gaze burning against me. His eyes are undoubtedly still on my ass. "Yeah?"
I really don't want to stop now. I saw him a few moments ago. When I was on my knees in my living room. I saw how big he is. I need to feel him inside me. There's not a doubt in my mind that it would feel mind blowing.
But Sienna's advice constantly rings in my head, not allowing me to recklessly enjoy this moment. 'Cut him out of your life immediately,' she said.
My eyes squeeze shut for a moment. I don't want to stop. My body is screaming at me, begging me to let this continue. I want this so bad, but . . . "Could we put a pause on this?" I turn so that I am on my back, facing him.
His eyes are full of care and curiosity. "Pause?" he asks, as if it is the most ridiculous question I have ever asked.
This is my chance to explain myself. But how can I? Maybe something like, 'I can't go any further because I need to emotionally detach from you after agreeing and then refusing to kill you. I'm afraid something bad will happen now. I've ruined everything for myself, and for you'.
Yeah, that would go well.
"I like where we are at the moment. We have time, so there is no need to rush," I say instead.
"That's alright." He shifts up to place a kiss on my forehead, my nose, my jaw, my neck. My eyes flutter shut. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here every night, if that's what you want. I'll keep you warm, and hold you tight and never let you go."
Opening my eyes again, I find him so close to my face. His dark eyes are scanning over me, as if he is drinking in every detail of my face. I brush my thumb over his cheek. "Promise?"
"There is nothing in the world that could make me want to leave."
"I love you, Elijah." My hands rise to cup his face. So much for cutting him out. "I could never imagine what love felt like, but now that I know . . . I'm addicted."
"I'm addicted to you too, Bree." The corners of his lips turn up. "And to be completely honest, I'm ready for an overdose." His lips lower to mine.
I grin at that cheesy line. My bare legs separate and he slips himself between them. He holds himself up on one arm, using the other to gently stroke my thigh. It causes goosebumps to rise on my skin.
Over and over again, our lips collide. And for a moment, everything feels right. As if him and I are the only objects of existence.
Screwed, screwed. I am so screwed.
He stops and nuzzles his head against my shoulder. His breath fans against my skin. "Do you want me to spend the night?" He pulls back to look at me.
His eyes plead with me. Because he doesn't want to leave, and go back to an empty house. And I don't want him to go.
"Stay with me."
His megawatt smile finds its way back onto his face, and he lowers himself down beside me, pulling me against him. I lean my head against his chest. His body is warm and comforting.
Our limbs tangle up. His hands gently run over my slightly tangled hair. His lips press against my temple. "I wish I had the words to explain how much I care for you," he says.
I am never letting this man go. I hope I never have to.
•<•>•
Hi guys!! How was your day? <3
My day (for those who didn't ask lol): I posted a new writing tip on my IG and finished reading 'It Only Happens In The Movies'.
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T w i t t e r : xPineappleGirlx I n s t a g r a m : laylaawrites Y o u t u b e : xThePineappleGirlx
