Page 8 of Unwell
‘We can’t…’ I gasped as he thrust two fingers inside me. ‘Not here. Someone might see.’
‘They won’t. Ginny. I need you.’ The plea in his voice had me crumbling, as always.
There was a rustle behind me. Elijah was manoeuvring me on top of him, facing away. I tried to turn, wanting to look into his eyes. To kiss him.
‘Sit still,’ he demanded, thrusting into me with one harsh stroke.
‘Careful,’ I whimpered. ‘The baby.’
‘I’ve waited so long. Too long.’ Elijah’s words were rough, filled with desperate need.
‘You’re hurting me.’ Tears welled as I moved my hips, seeking to create space between us. Fingers clamped tightly over my throat, restricting my breath.
‘I’ll be quick.’
‘Elijah.’ His name was a prayer that went unanswered as he dragged my body down over his.
His other hand shifted between my thighs, kneading the tender flesh there, making my eyes glaze as memories of much kinder moments lingered. He hadn’t always been so demanding. Men sought reassurance in losing themselves in a cunt, my Pops used to say. Words weren’t useful to them how they are to us women. They found solace at a woman’s expense. And if you loved them…what choice did you have but to surrender?
Closing my eyes, I surrendered to his needs. Knowing it was the way he said he loved me. The way I was most useful to him.
He was the only person who’d ever needed me.
Pleasure built from his sure strokes, our bodies melding in a state of wet desperation.
Fingers loosened against my throat as his breathing grew more ragged.
‘You’re mine,’ he growled, repeating the phrase with each dig of his hips.
His.
The baby and I were his. His alone.
I clung to the fact that he would help get me out of the asylum.
Intense pleasure twisted in my core, coming in crashing waves from the place where he filled me. I came in a sticky mess, writhing in his lap as he panted behind me.
‘There’s a good girl,’ he groaned, his fingers digging painfully into my hips.
With a ferocious groan, he pumped his love deep inside me, coating me with its every salty drop.
We lay after, in a pile of gasps and sweat, him tracing patterns through my knotted hair.
‘Don’t go,’ I whispered when he moved.
‘I have to. But I’ll be back.’
‘We can’t have her in here. They’ll take her away.’ My eyes fluttered closed as I loitered in his heady smell, wanting to hold on to the closeness for as long as possible.
‘I won’t let anyone else have her,’ he crooned. ‘I’ll get you both out before she comes.’
‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’ I shifted to let him stand, but by the time I got up, he was gone.
‘Elijah?’
The trees were thick, and only the briefest hint of white flashed amongst them.
