Page 98 of Stolen Harmony
I bottomed out, hips flush to his, cock buried deep, then began to move, slow at first, finding a rhythm that made him shudder, made his cock leak against his stomach.
“Is this what you wanted?” I panted, thrusting deep, reaching down to stroke his cock, wanting him to feel everything, to have everything.
“Yes—fuck, yes, don’t stop—want to feel you fill me up, want to be yours?—”
I fucked him hard, claiming him, worshipping him, giving him everything he’d given me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies, our breath, our voices tangled together in a litany of praise and filth.
He wrapped his legs around me, pulling me deeper, hands clawing at my back, mouth open, eyes wild with want.
I thrust harder, faster, the pleasure building, the line between giving and taking blurring until there was nothing but us, nothing but this, nothing but the relentless drive to keep going, to never stop.
It was too much—the heat of him, the trust in his eyes, the way his body opened for me, hungry and willing, taking everything I gave him and begging for more. The pressure built sharp and fast, pleasure cresting until I was teetering right on the edge.
“Fuck, Elias—can’t—gonna—” I choked out, hips stuttering, hands gripping his thighs for leverage.
“Do it,” he urged, voice rough and raw, pulling me closer with his legs. “Come inside me, Rowan. Fill me up. Want to feel you.”
That was all it took. I let go, orgasm crashing through me, blinding and fierce. My body jerked, hips burieddeep, cock throbbing as I spilled inside him, pulse after pulse, filling him up just as he wanted. I cried out, every muscle locked, every nerve alight, the world narrowing to the heat and tightness and the sound of his name on my lips.
Elias held me through it, arms and legs wrapped around me, anchoring me as I shuddered and shook, breath coming in ragged gasps. When the pleasure finally faded, I collapsed onto him, heart pounding, sweat cooling on my back, his hands gentle on my skin.
He kissed the side of my head, holding me close, and for a long moment there was nothing but the sound of our breathing, the warmth of his body, the slow, perfect satisfaction that only comes from being completely, utterly undone by someone you trust.
I pressed my face into his neck, smiling against his skin, and whispered, “You’re fucking incredible.”
He laughed, deep and sated, squeezing me tighter. “Right back at you, baby. Right back at you.”
In the aftermath, we lay tangled in sheets that smelled like sex and sweat and the particular satisfaction that came from wants finally acknowledged and acted upon. The only sound was our uneven breathing gradually returning to normal, and the distant hum of Harbor's End settling into night around us.
I watched the shadows move across Elias's face, trying to read what was happening behind his closed eyes. Was he regretting this already? Planning his escape? Wondering what the hell he'd just done and how he was going to undo it?
He dragged a hand over his face, muttering something under his breath that I couldn't quite make out. Not regret, exactly, but the sound of someone trying to process something too big to fit into the categories they'd been using to organizetheir life.
“So,” I said, my voice coming out lower and rougher than I'd intended, “what now?”
The question felt enormous, loaded with all the complications we'd just created for ourselves. Because this wasn't just sex, was it? This was crossing a line that couldn't be uncrossed, starting something that would change everything about how we related to each other, to Harbor's End, to the memory of the woman who'd loved us both.
Elias turned his head to meet my gaze, and I was relieved to see something steady in his expression instead of the panic I'd been half-expecting.
“One day at a time,” he said, and his voice carried the weight of decision, of commitment to figuring this out as we went instead of trying to plan for every possible complication.
I let out a laugh that came out sharper than I'd intended, though there was no real humor in it. “You know the rumor mill's going to eat this alive, right? Small town, older man, younger guy, dead wife's son. It's like gossip bingo.”
Something flickered across his face, worry mixed with determination. “It scares me,” he admitted, “but I'm too old to live my life based on what other people might say. I've spent two years trying to be the person everyone expected me to be, and it nearly killed me.”
“So what does this mean?” I pressed, because I needed to know what I was signing up for. “Are we... what are we?”
Elias was quiet for a long moment, his hand resting on the sheet between us, close enough to touch but not quite making contact. “I don't know,” he said finally.
I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. Because what had I expected? A declaration of love? A promise of forever?
“In all my life,” Elias continued, his voice soft in the darkness, “I never thought I'd be attracted to another man. Never even considered it as a possibility. But here we are.”
The admission was so honest, so vulnerable, that it made my chest tight with emotion I couldn't name. Here was this man who'd had his entire understanding of himself turned upside down, and he was handling it with more grace than I'd managed to bring to much simpler challenges.
“How does it feel?” I asked. “Being here, I mean. With me.”
He was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
