Page 84 of Ms Perfectly Fine
“I plan on celebrating,” he said, running his hand up her thighs. “I love these jeans, but they’re covered in flour. I think we should take them off.” He undid the button at her waist.
“What’s a bit of flour? You were the one who covered them in paint,” Autumn retorted, watching him trace the paint blots with his hands. Her thighs started to tremble beneath his touch. However, before they went any further, she needed to know something. She looked him in the eye. “Now that you’re free, are you going to move out?”
She had to know the answer before she fell any deeper.
Elijah rested his forehead against hers, brushing her hair over her shoulders, not answering immediately. Autumn rolled her hips impatiently, grinding against him as if daring him to deny her. His reply was a low groan against her lips; he gripped her hips to pull her harder against him, confirming that he needed her as much as she needed him.
“That’s not the answer,” she panted as he nipped at her jaw, her neck.
“I already told you. There’s no getting rid of me,” he growled, fisting her hair and forcing her to look at him. He leaned down and engaged her mouth in a slow, erotic kiss that went straight to her toes, sparking every erogenous zone in her body. “Is this what you had in mind for the celebration? Or…should we go back to the cake?” His head dipped for another kiss, eyes dark with desire.
“Since we’re celebrating freedom, I’ll give you the freedom to do whatever you want with my body,” Autumn told him, running her lips along his jaw.
His hands swept over her, demanding and possessive. He loved her, and she felt it. Even if they hadn’t said those words yet, their bodies did the talking.
“Again with words that will be the death of me.” His palm slid under her white T-shirt, and she delighted in his sharp intake of breath as he felt that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Then we’re even, because your touch will kill me,” she rasped as shockwaves of pleasure spread down between her legs. Her hands settled over the impressive bulge in his trousers. “Don’t make me wait,” she breathed, and a wide grin stretched over his lips.
“No need to ask twice.”
He groaned as she undid his trousers and gripped him tight, stroking leisurely until he pinned her arms behind her back. He yanked off her jeans and underwear so impatiently she nearly came off the desk with them. Her laugh was stifled by his kisses.
He made his way down her body, kissing her ribs and dipping his tongue into her belly button; the sensation caused her to clench around his exploring fingers. She tore at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. With eager fingers, she guided him inside her. His kiss swallowed his name as he filled and stretched her until she thought she could take no more.
She moved with him until their movements were frantic with need and she felt herself splinter. She cried out as the convulsions tore through her, surprised that pleasure could feel so violent. Elijah rocked his hips, drawing out the aftershocks of her ecstasy until he arched his back, and she watched him, completely lost in his own pleasure.
They held each other, saying nothing, as they caught their breath. At last, he reached beneath her thighs and lifted them around his hips, kissing her shoulder as he carried her over to the couch. Together, they lay on the couch in his office, Autumn on his chest.
“This really is a hideous blanket,” Elijah said, and she glanced at the fluffy yellow blanket he covered them with.
“You could have bought a new one,” she said, feeling content with the warmth of his body and the softness of the blanket cocooning them. She’d never felt safer.
“But this one smells like you,” he sighed.
“Pervert,” she muttered playfully, and he squeezed her tight.
“Only for you.” He kissed her hair.
“How do you feel now that the deal is closed?” She’d meant to ask him over the cake. He had to be conflicted; his victory meant possibly furthering the gap between him and Tim.
Elijah rested an arm behind his head, and she saw the wheels turning in his mind. “Relieved, but a little guilty. I didn’t want to have to go behind Tim’s back. Regardless of our personal relationship, the game would have taken three times as long without his investment,” he said, sounding deflated.
She nodded. From what she knew of him, he prided himself on honesty. “Maybe if Tim has no control over your company anymore, you can both move on,” she reasoned, hoping they could repair their relationship. Tim wasn’t perfect, but it would be nice if Elijah got the chance to see how kind he could be.
“I don’t know. It will depend on how he reacts. I want to forget the past—I’m tired of carrying it with me,” he said, looking down at her. “Seeing how you’ve been able to put your past behind you, how strong you are, has encouraged me to do the same.”
“I don’t think I’m strong. I don’t have a choice but to keep going, and I couldn’t carry about the anger or blame with me, or it would have tormented me far more than any physical pain did,” she told him. “What happened to me was an accident. I can’t change it the same way you can’t change your past relationship with Tim; but you have a chance, if you want to try.”
His thumb brushed the scar on her abdomen. “You have no idea how resilient you are. You could have stayed in Islacore and never touched a piano again or got back up on stage. You didn’t give up.”
She swallowed the emotions rising in her throat. “I have to tell you what happened today, but promise you won’t be mad that I didn’t tell you sooner?” She sat up, wanting to look into his eyes as she told him about Heather.
Elijah cupped her cheek. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I talked to Aiden.”
“What? I asked him not to tell you. I didn’t want to ruin your day.”
“You could never ruin my day. It wasn’t his fault. When Francis and I finished signing, Francis called Aiden to join us but he said he was at your theatre, so I knew something had happened. He told me you went home and were safe and not to let on until you were ready to talk about it.”
