Fall of Snow: Chapter 39
The moment Elijah starts moving again is like I can finally draw in a full breath. Like my body doesn’t know how to breathe without him anymore.
Elijah’s jaw is tight as he thrusts forward in sharp snaps, the force of which makes me ache. He’s not gentle, but then I didn’t expect him to be. It’s not like the first time I’ve fucked any other guy, there isn’t the slow start as we try to figure each other out. No, Elijah seems to know everything about my body without me having to say a word.
“Your cunt is squeezing the hell out of me,” he grunts the words through clenched teeth. The man who’s always in control looks ready to throw caution to the wind and fuck me like I crave, but I’ve already conceded too much to him. I’ve already begged him to fuck me with a gun and played right into his hands by asking him to claim me.
I can’t allow myself to give him anything else or to let him know just how much he affects me.
I press my head back into the mattress, dragging my eyes from his in an attempt to stamp down the intimacy of the moment. I’ve never done anything close to making love. In fact, I’ve laughed at people who use that phrase on a regular basis. But what Elijah is doing to me right now and the way my body is reacting… it’s as close as I’ve ever been. My heart beats heavily in my chest, each thump more painful than the last.
“Eyes on me, Snowflake.” The rumble of his voice startles me into doing as he says before I’ve consciously thought about what I’m doing. He’s pleased by my submission, and I want to hate it. I want to fight against him and tear my eyes from his, but I don’t.
Elijah moves with measured strokes, his hips meeting mine with each thrust, his hands planted on either side of my head. We’re too close. His heat is almost suffocating. Being surrounded by him makes it hard to breathe, and yet I know the moment he pulls away I’ll gasp for the air he provides.
I wrap my legs around his waist, unable to hold back my own desperation for him. My hips raise to meet his, and his eyes flare with a fire I’ve never seen before. I’ve seen him angry, I’ve seen him turned on, and I may have even seen him happy on a couple of occasions. But I’ve never seen him lose the control he holds on to.
“Fuck, Snow,” he groans, his pace picking up into a wild rhythm of skin slapping together and the sound of my wetness filling the room. Perhaps I would be embarrassed by the sound if it were anyone else plowing into me, but by the way Elijah stares at me like my pussy is made of gold, I can’t find it in me to be anything other than turned the fuck on.
For the first time since I’ve been here, I reach for him. I reach for Elijah and trail my fingers down his bare chest, committing every tattoo, scar, and hard muscle to memory. Perhaps he means it when he says that I’m it for him and there’s nowhere for me to run, but I’ve been the disappointment my entire life. Why would this be any different? It’s only a matter of time before Elijah realizes that, and if he allows me to live, I want to remember every last second of this.
“Touch yourself,” he demands.
I immediately snake my hand between our bodies, seeking the bundle of nerves that will inevitably throw me over the edge of the cliff into an oblivion I’m not sure I’m ready for.
“You’re much more compliant with my cock inside you,” Elijah muses between thrusts. “Perhaps I’ll need to keep you impaled at all times so you’re always a good girl for me.”
My cheeks heat at his words, and I expect anger to overwhelm me, but instead my pussy pulses around him and drags a long moan from both of us.
“Do you like that idea, Snowflake? Do you want my cock inside you all the time?”
“Yes.” The word tumbles from my lips as I approach my orgasm. The power of his thrusts mixed with my own petting brings me to the brink and I hover there, dragging my bottom lip between my teeth as I fight against the power of it.
A snarl forms on his lips as if he’s barely containing the other side of him, the one the rest of the world sees. “You’ll get very good at controlling your orgasms, Snow, but right now, I want to feel your cunt come around me.”
I suck in a breath, barely holding myself back from doing as he wants, but there’s something in the back of my mind that keeps my orgasm just out of reach. Perhaps it’s the fact that the moment I fall apart in his arms, I’ll never be able to put myself together again without him. But I can’t focus on it for more than a second before the pleasure tears me back to my body.
“Now, Snow. Don’t make me ask again.” His words come on a growl, his jaw set so tight I’m worried it might snap.
As if my body can’t deny him, every muscle tightens, and then all at once, release, taking me over the edge into an oblivion I’ve only ever read about. The intensity has my lungs seizing in my chest, unable to drag in a breath around the pleasure holding my body hostage.
Elijah’s thrusts are brutal but measured, each one drawing ecstasy from me like it’s his personal mission in life.
When I finally start to come down, my body limp with exhaustion, his eyes flare with the need to consume me.
“Fuck, Snow,” he groans. “That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He doesn’t slow, not even for a moment, his hips pistoning into me as he chases his own release.
That thought brings me back to a sobering reality, and all the mellow I felt only seconds ago drains from my body, leaving behind nothing but dread.
“Stop,” I say, immediately pushing at his chest. But he doesn’t budge, so unaffected by my demand that he doesn’t slow for even a second. “Elijah, I said stop,” I yell.
“I don’t think so, Snowflake.” He moves one of his hands from where it was planted beside my head to rest at my throat. There’s no pressure under his hold, but it’s a warning. He’s telling me without words that there’s nothing I can say or do that will make him change his mind.
“You can’t come inside me.”
A self-satisfied grin crosses his face and his thrusts speed up. “I can and I will, Snow.”
The blood drains from my face, my entire body shaking at the meaning behind his words. Tears form at the corners of my eyes and trickle down my cheeks, my chest constricting with terror. I’m not on any birth control—and he knows it.
I don’t know how he knows I was meant to get my next shot the day after he took me, or that I was already three weeks late because I lost track of time around the wedding and losing my parents, but it’s clear he does.
As if stealing me from my family, forcing me to stay here with him, and making me murder a man wasn’t bad enough, now he wants to hit me with the ultimate blow.
He wants to get me pregnant, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.