Page 63 of Not Your Girl
I reach down and grab her bag, swinging it over my shoulder then grabbing my own. I just barely resist the urge to take her hand. I’m her advisor, so a meeting behind closed doors is normal, but holding hands is absolutely not. “Lead the way, Mystery Girl.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
AMELIA
“Fuck, you smell amazing,” Elliot whispers, crowding up behind me on my front stoop as I attempt to unlock the door of my house. He grips my hips, grinding his already hard cock into me from behind and running his nose up the column of neck. When he bites my earlobe and then sucks it into his mouth, I gasp, missing the lock entirely.
He lets out a low chuckle, tightening his hold on my hips and kissing my neck. “Unlock the door, Mystery Girl, unless you want your neighbors to get a show. It’s been two days since I’ve been inside you, and that’s forty-eight hours too long.”
“I thought we were working first. Remember? Major discovery?” I hiss as his cold hands dip inside my jacket and push under my sweater, gliding over my ribs. When his fingers ghost over my nipples, I drop my keys, tipping my head back against his shoulder as they hit the concrete stoop with a jingle.
“Shit,” I gasp.
He chuckles, bending down to pick up the keys and reaching around me to unlock the door himself. “I changed my mind.First, I’m going to strip you down and fill every inch of your needy cunt. I want you pulling my hair and screaming my name, and so full of me you never forget that you’re mine. Because you are, Amelia. All. Fucking. Mine.”
He punctuates each word with a hot, wet kiss to my neck, and I’m so turned on I’m shocked I’m not actually on fire despite the frigid February temperatures.
I twist the handle and push the door open, and he walks us into the house, kicking the door shut behind us. He spins me around, shoving my jacket off my shoulders and sealing his mouth over mine as we stumble blindly from the entryway into my living room. It’s a wild kiss full of clashing tongues and clanking teeth and ragged breaths and absolute and utter possession. When his hands drift to the waistband of my leggings, I break the kiss and shove him away, taking a step back and looking at him with a smirk. “Strip.”
Elliot raises an eyebrow at me. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’m changing the plan. You’re not the only one with some possessing to do. Strip, El. Show me what’s mine.”
Elliot’s eyes darken, his lips turning up in a feral grin as he shrugs off his jacket, letting it pool on the floor, and then he unbuttons the first two buttons on his shirt before reaching behind him and tugging the whole thing over his head, taking the T-shirt he’s wearing underneath with it in the hottest move of all time.
Eyes locked on mine, he unbuckles his belt and pops the button on his jeans, the sound of the zipper as he inches it down reverberating around the living room. When he sinks his teeth into his lower lip and runs a hand over the most perfect chest and abs I’ve ever seen, it’s a wonder I don’t burst into flames. And when he pushes down his jeans and boxers, thick, hard cockspringing up to slap his abs, I wonder if there has ever, in the history of ever, been a more gorgeous specimen of man.
I want my hands on every damn inch of him.
He puts his hands on his hips, spreading his legs slightly, smirking at me. “What happens now Mystery Girl?”
I take two slow steps forward, splaying my hand over his chest and pushing until he’s against the wall. Then, with my hands on his hips, I spin us until it’s my back against the wall and drop to my knees, eyes never leaving his.
“Fuck.” His voice is low and raspy and full of so much need, it has a curl of lust snaking through me.
“You want to know what happens now, El? Now, you stand there and feed me your cock until I choke on it. And then you do it again and again until it’s you who’s screaming my name.”
I pull my sweatshirt over my head then reach around and unclasp my bra, letting it slide off my arms, loving the flash of heat in his eyes. The bob of his throat as he swallows roughly. The heady rush of freedom. Of power. Of knowing I’m safe with him to be exactly who I am. Do exactly what I want. “And when you can’t take it anymore, when you’re so desperate to come you’ll die if you don’t, I’m going to use my hand on you until you paint my tits with your cum.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Elliot mutters, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stares at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. And maybe he is. I feel like I might be seeing me for the first time too. The real me. I like her quite a lot, it turns out.
I lean forward, licking a hot stripe up the underside of his cock, trailing my tongue over his head and then sliding it into his slit. He sucks in a breath, his fingers threading into my hair, and when I look up, wrapping my lips around him and sucking hard, he lets out a string of curses, his hips rocking forward, pushing his cock deeper. I pop off, using my hand to stroke him, long and slow.
“You can do better than that, El. I want you to wreck my throat with your gorgeous cock.”
“Fuck, Amelia. You are goddamn spectacular. Open that perfect mouth, baby. Show me how pretty you look with my cock in your throat. Tap my thigh if you want me to stop, okay?”
I nod, and when I open my mouth, Elliot doesn’t waste any time. Wrapping my hair around his fist, he grips the base of his cock and flexes his hips, slowly sliding into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat. When I gag around him, he lets out a strangled moan and pulls out, pushing back in in one single thrust, and then again, testing to see how much of him I can take.
Sliding my hands around, I grip his ass, urging him forward, and the smile he flashes me is downright filthy as he rocks his hips, over and over again, thrusting in and out of my mouth in smooth, steady strokes.
“You look beautiful with your mouth full of my cock,” Elliot grits out, snapping his hips, hitting the back of my throat again and holding himself there, gripping my hair tighter as I struggle against the instinct to push him away. I relish it. He strokes his free hand down my cheek, wiping away the tears streaming from my eyes, and with a single finger, he traces my lips stretched wide around him. My clit throbs at the twin feelings of being used and cherished all at once. “You look like mine.”
Elliot’s words have my heart pounding, and I grip his ass tighter, swallowing around the head of his cock. “Oh, my god,” he whimpers, and holy fuck. This big, strong, gorgeous man literally whimpers for me, and I rub my thighs together, arousal cascading through me like a tidal wave.
“Nothing has ever been this good,” he rasps, his hips never letting up, driving his cock deeper into my throat. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you on your knees for me. Fantasized about it. Fuckingdreamedabout it for monthsand nothing, fucking nothing, comes anywhere close to reality. You are better than my wildest dreams, Amelia.”
Undone and so turned on I could come entirely untouched, I keep one hand on Elliot’s hip and slide my other hand between his legs, cupping his balls. He puffs out a heavy breath, and when I slide a finger back to stroke the sensitive skin behind his sac and suck hard, he slams a hand against the wall and moans.
