Page 87 of Ghoul Me, Maybe
He groans, forehead pressed to mine. “Sienna, you're…”
“What?”
“Perfect.”
I twist, rolling us sideways. Water sluices between our bodies as I straddle him.
His thumb finds my clit, circling once—cruel, practiced. The scream scrapes my throat raw.
“Louder,” he growls. “Let the fucking gulls hear who owns you.”
We move like the tide: he surges, I retreat. His hands map the wreckage of me. I ride him until my thighs shake, until his moans sync with the crash of waves.
“Look at me,” he grits out.
His eyes are unlocked, unguarded. Human.Alive.
When I come, it’s with his teeth buried in my shoulder and his name dissolving into sea foam. He follows, his shout smothered against my throat. We float there, tangled limbs anchoring each other to the earth.
I try to think of something, anything to say, but instead I feel his cock returning to life - still buried deep inside me.
The world narrows to the heat of him. Elias braces his forearm beside my head, seawater gliding off his shoulders as he moves—a slow, rolling thrust that makes my spine bow off the sandbar. His breath stutters against my lips.
"Look at me."
Moonlight catches the silver scar curving over his brow, the one I traced last night with my tongue. I dig my heels into the small of his back, pulling him deeper. His groan vibrates through my ribs.
"Feels like—" His voice fractures.
"Like what?"
He swivels his hips, caressing that molten place only he’s ever found. "Like coming ashore after years adrift."
I fist his hair, salt crusting my knuckles. Our mouths clash, tasting of ocean and shared breath. He licks into me with the same rhythmic precision as his cock—every glide calculated to unravel. The next wave crashes against us, buoying my hips as he presses me down.
"Don’t stop."
He captures my wrist, pinning it above my head. "Never."
Our bodies find a new cadence—less frenzy, more fusion. His free hand skims my ribs, thumb circling my nipple until I arch into his palm. The ocean retreats, carving a cradle of wet sand beneath us. He shifts, lifting my thigh over his shoulder. Deeper now, each thrust a cresting wave.
"Elias."
His name breaks into a moan as he grinds against my clit. Stars flare behind my eyelids. He kisses the hollow of my throat, teeth grazing the bruise he left yesterday.
"Let go."
Pleasure detonates. I choke on his name as my pussy clenches around him, the world reduced to salt and sweat and the ragged sound of him following me over the edge. He spills into me with a shattered groan, hips stuttering.
We collapse sideways, tangled in the shallows. His fingers trace the star-shaped scar on my hip—a match to his own.
"Sienna." He brushes soaked hair from my face. "You’re trembling."
"Not from cold."
His laughter rumbles against my cheek. The tide licks our legs, carrying the scent of kelp and distant storms. His thumb strokes the pulse point beneath my jaw.
The moon paints silver streaks across Elias’ shoulders as he pulls away, seawater gliding down the scarred planes of his chest.
