My eyes opened to soft, butter-yellow sunlight slicing through a gap in the curtains. I squinted against the glare. My cheek was on Elijah's chest and my body was practically molded to his. His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer. He brushed my hair away from my shoulder and a smile spread across my mouth, but when I looked up at him, it slid right off. If there was another time in my life where I saw a man look so confused, hurt, and angry, I couldn't remember it. The ferocity of that look frightened me.
"Is...is everything okay?" I asked.
A frown creased his brow. "I don't know," he answered honestly.
I closed my eyes, hating the tension and sarcasm in his voice, but in the darkness behind my lids I saw myself trapped between them. I felt the stroke of Julian's dick nestled against Elijah's deep inside me. I saw Julian's eyes and heard his breathy sighs as he came. I remembered the dizzying, primal sound that was the cadence of our fucking. And the sound of my own moaning--God, I'd never dreamed it could feel that way. I was consumed with the sensations I felt last night with the two men. Every inch of me ached from being so thoroughly used.
"Fuck," he muttered angrily.
How could he feel so differently than I did? Julian I could almost understand, but Elijah? Hadn't we talked about this and agreed to it before last night? This magical thing happened to me, and now both of the men I'd shared it with were full of regret.
I curled my arm around his waist and nuzzled my face into his neck. "Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me and I'll make it right."
"Yvie..." he cautioned.
"Just tell me and I'll do it."
Elijah didn't say another word. He just slid his hand down to gently cup my pussy. I drew a sharp breath. The skin there was tender to the touch, but his hand on me sent an immediate arousal signal through my body. I looked him in the eye and pulled away from him, but he wouldn't let me. His hand delved between my legs again, grasped the plump lips with his fingers.
"I'm sore."
The stony look in his eye told me he didn't care.
I eyed him cautiously and pressed the flat of my palm to his shoulder, pushing him onto his back. I kissed my way down his chest--offering a morning blowjob to save my sore pussy. Elijah was having none of that. He pushed me off, pushed me onto my back, pressed my shoulders to the mattress. But when he rose up on his knees and leaned over me, I squeezed my knees together. He stared at me. Waiting. I knew I was supposed to trust him and that he knew how much I could take, but I knew this was going to hurt. Not the good kind of hurt either. Part of me thought I deserved it for enjoying what happened last night. But why should I feel that way when he organized the whole thing? Was this some sort of punishment for going into it so willingly? This was confusing. My eyes went a bit glassy as I stared at him, trying to figure everything out.
"Open your legs," his request was soft, but I knew he meant for me to obey him.
There was that word again. Obey.
I shook my head no; my bottom lip quivered. "Elijah, please--"
"Open. Your. Legs," he demanded more firmly.
Reluctantly, I let my knees fall apart. He grazed his hand over the sensitive, bruised flesh. I twitched and moaned. I looked down between his legs, he was already hard. I knew my fear and resistance were turning him on even more. I looked back into his eyes again. He was going to fuck me. He wasn't going to be gentle. Elijah didn't usually take it this far with me. He was usually very careful about triggering any bad memories, but I could tell that was the farthest thing from his mind right now.
Elijah grabbed a pillow and tucked it under the small of my back, tipping my pelvis up at an angle where the tip of his dick would graze the bundle of nerves just inside of me with each thrust. "I want you to come," he said as he positioned himself between my open thighs. "I want you to come hard, and I want you to say my name when you do."
He spat into the palm of his hand and stroked his length while I watched. I tried to shift into a more comfortable position. The musky, sweet scent of my arousal wafted up to him and he breathed it in. The corners of his mouth pulled into a wicked smile. He pushed two fingers into me with his other hand. I grunted and lifted my hips as his fingers brushed against that sweet bundle of nerves. My cunt was more than sore, but that didn't really mean anything, because my hips opened wider of their own volition. He withdrew his fingers and sucked the wetness from them before grasping my splayed hip bones and thrusting into me. A streak of white hot pain arrowed through me. I put my hand out, palm against his chest, to stop him from doing it again. With the other I teased his dick against the opening of my pussy, made him slick before I let him press inside again.
"Slow, slow, slow," I whispered.
We stared into each other's eyes and I could tell he was fighting the need to be buried deep inside me. My hand splayed wide in the middle of his chest, holding him at a distance while I adjusted to the dull ache of his invasion, trying desperately to measure his depth.
Then something in his demeanor shifted.
"Fuck that." He knocked my hand away, trapped my wrists at my sides and sank his dick in, sure and deep.
I tipped my head back and cried out. Everything inside me was raw and overstimulated. I needed him to be more gentle, to wait until my body relaxed into it, but he clearly had zero intention of doing so. He thrust again and leaned down to suck hard at the delicate skin of my exposed neck, intent on leaving a mark.
"Eli," I said breathlessly when his teeth nipped at that skin. My cunt tightened around his dick. The tender bit of violence, pushed me into a sudden orgasm. Even in so much pain, my body responded to him. Elijah held perfectly still, watching as it washed over me. The spasms rippled up into my belly and caused my abdominal muscles to tense. He pressed deeper still.
"Oh, God, Eli...please." A surge of emotion overwhelmed me and spilled out in soft, quiet sobs. Elijah grabbed me by the back of the neck, crushed my mouth to his, and ground his hips against mine. The first signs of his impending climax throbbed up through the base of his dick. He slowed his stroke for a moment, trying to prolong it. At the same time, I began picking up the tempo that he dropped. I needed this to be over. My body couldn't take much more. His breath snagged in his throat as my pussy quivered around him. I was about to come again. A sound more like pain than anything else erupted from my throat on his next thrust. I thought it would make him stop, but it seemed to make him want to fuck me even harder.
"Tell me you're mine."
"I'm yours..."
"Mine," he whispered in my ear and gripped the back of my neck, slamming his dick into me as he rushed toward his own climax. He drove deeper and deeper still. Too deep. I felt him banging against my cervix, the pain no longer pleasurable, but bright and sharp, stalling the air in my lungs. He seemed to be vaguely aware that he might hurt me, or maybe he was too gone to care. I didn't know what to do.
"Lily," I whispered. Tears streaked from the corners of my eyes and puddled in the shell of my ears. If he heard me, he made no note of it. "Lily!" I shouted, hitting him on the arm.
A surprised and frightened look came over his face. He pulled out of me and collapsed. Gasping from the effort of stopping or the effort of fucking me so hard, I couldn't tell which.
I lay under him, holding in my sobs until he climbed off of me. Chest heaving, he lay next to me, eyes fixed on the ceiling. I rolled away from him, spreading my hand over my lower belly, curling into myself.
"I thought you were okay with the Julian thing," I whispered.
"I thought I was, too." He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Fuck," he groaned. I could feel his eyes on me, but I was too hurt and angry to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry," he finally choked out.
"It's okay. I'm okay." I pushed myself up and stumbled into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I turned on the water to drown it out, but he probably still heard me crying. I couldn't hold it in. This was too many feelings. I had to let it out.
When I finally cried myself empty, I splashed cold water on my face and looked in the mirror. My reflection startled me. My hair was a tangled mess. My eyes were red and hollowed out. I reached for his robe hanging on the hook by the shower. The fluffy terry cloth swallowed me up as if I had suddenly become waifish overnight. I looked ruined. I felt ruined.
"Shit," I cursed, trying to pull myself together.
Elijah had rescued me when Cesar was beating me. Cared for me at my most vulnerable. He was the last person I expected to feel unsure of, but that is exactly how I felt right now. What the fuck was wrong with me that I drove men to this?
I could hear him rustling around in the bedroom. I dried my face and went back out to find him gathering my things into a pile on the bed.
"What are you doing?"
He paused with my sweater bundled in both his hands. "You need to leave," he said.
"What? You can't be serious."
"You were right. I have been weird since we ran into Shanna. I should've taken some time to work through that. I let my emotions rule me and that was...weak. I was weak for you where I should've been strong. None of this should've happened. This thing with Julian shouldn't have happened,"
"Okay. So now I'm being punished for it?"
"You're not being punished. You need space just as much as I do."
"Space?" I observed the things in the pile on the bed. Even the toys he'd bought for me as gifts were in there. He wasn't just sending me home for a few nights. "How much space? How long? Because it looks like you want me gone for good."
"I'm not saying that." But he said little else. His face was so closed and emotionless while I felt like I'd been punched in the chest. I barely recognized him. Was it this easy for him to be rid of me?
I moved close. More tears welled in my eyes. "Let's just take a moment to think this through--"
He swallowed hard and forced the words out of his mouth, "You have to go."
"Is this about what just happened? I'm fine--"
"But I'm not! Don't you get it?" He touched my face. Made a fruitless attempt at smoothing my hair. "What I just did to you was not okay."
"Maybe not, but it's not a big deal. I understand why you--"
"Don't do that. Don't talk that way with me. Don't talk to me like I'm him. "
It took a moment for me to catch up, but I realized he was talking about Cesar. Was that why he was sending me away? Because I was exhibiting some sort of PTSD symptoms that I was unaware of? "I wasn't--I wasn't even thinking that," I stammered. I dropped my eyes to the floor. My hands twisted in the sleeves of the robe. "Look, I know I fucked up--"
"You keep treating this--you keep treating me--like I'm a fucking game. Like I'm not capable of--" He clenched his teeth, biting back his words. "I don't want to hurt you. I just need to be away from you for a while...to sort all this out."
"So you acknowledge that part of this is about Shoshanna?"
"Yes."
"And you'll see her? While we're apart, you'll see her?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
I nodded and licked my lips. At least he was honest. That didn't make it hurt any less. I had to swallow around my tears before I spoke again. "And the painting? Can you make sure it gets where it needs to go?"
"Of course."
There was nothing left to say. It was clear he wasn't going to be convinced, so I threw off his robe and started getting dressed. "This is complete bullshit. I hope you know that." I yanked my sweater over my head. "You're always pushing me. Forcing me to deal with my issues, but the first time we come up against something that makes you feel uncomfortable, you get to call it quits."
"You're right," he agreed. "That doesn't change the fact that I need to get some distance from you right now." His voice was so calm and steady that it stoked the rage in me.
"Distance. Space." I scoffed as I pulled on my jeans. "Just fucking call it what it is. You're breaking up with me."
He was slow to answer. Slow to disagree. "That's not what this is, Yves."
I could tell that he didn't believe that any more than I did. "Elijah, please." I wrapped my arms around his neck. "Don't do this..." I begged.
He tried to push me away, but I wouldn't let go. He grabbed ahold of my wrists and unwound them from his neck. "I'll call you," he assured me.
"When?"
"You'll hear from me before release day. I promise you."
"Release day? That's months away, Elijah!"
"I'm not saying it will be that long. I just don't want you to think that this is something that is going to happen quickly."
I nodded, and he backed away from me to let me pull on my socks and boots. This felt so wrong, but I didn't know what else to do to change his mind.
Elijah followed me to the front door. Before I could open it, he turned me around and kissed me gently. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I know. Me, too."