Cupping my ass, he tilts my pelvis and drives into me with his tongue. My nerves are strung so tight it only takes a couple of shallow thrusts before I'm climaxing all over his face. I cry out, my head thrown back. He doesn't let up. He increases the intensity, overloading my senses. I twist and turn, but I'm helpless in his grasp.
"Stop, I can't … " I sob.
He gives another deliberate lick. "Your taste … God, I can do this all night."
"You're going to kill me."
He chuckles darkly, the sound unbearably seductive. "We can kill each other."
That's the last thing I comprehend before another orgasm barrels through me, hits me like a locomotive dropped from space. It buries me, and I feel like I'm going to faint.
When I can finally drag air into my lungs again, Elliot is positioned between my legs, his face over mine. He's sheathed in a condom, and I can feel his cock throbbing against me.
"Now," I whisper.
He sinks into me, slow inch by slow inch. I start to close my eyes at the amazing fullness.
"Don't," he orders. "Look at me."
I blink, then stare up at him. His face is flushed and stark. Lust and something I've never seen before dilate his eyes. His arms and shoulders shake with tight control, and I place my feet flat on the mattress and tilt my hips, pulling the rest of him into me.
Breathing hard and our hearts beating like hummingbirds' wings, we gaze into each other's eyes. "Elliot," I whisper.
"Annabelle."
Shock stiffens my body. He said he would never call me that because of his ex …
His forehead touches mine, followed by his lips. "Annabelle Reed. My wife."
A huge knot forms in my throat, and it's all I can do to swallow it. "Elliot … I thought-"
He places a finger over my mouth. I can taste myself on it. "I know. But I was wrong." He kisses me with aching tenderness. "It doesn't matter what your name is. You're the one. You'll always be the one. It just took me too damn long to figure that out."
Tears flow freely. He kisses them away as he moves within me. Each stroke is deeper and hotter than the one before, and it doesn't take long before I'm consumed with need and love for this complicated man in my arms. Every time I think this is the end, he does something to utterly shatter me.
He raises himself up and looks at my face. His breathing is shallow and rough, emotion inflaming his beautiful face. A scorching erotic tension coils inside my gut so tightly that it's almost painful.
"Come, Annabelle," he coaxes. "Come for me."
And I do, unable to resist. I arch my body, pressing against him. He drives into me once … then again and again and again before letting go with a guttural cry.
Making sure not to crush me, he levers himself off and lies to the side. I clutch him to me. I'm unable to bear an inch of separation from him even as desire dissipates and my head starts working again.
I lay my hand over his heart. It's knocking against his chest hard and fast. He has to feel something for me. Maybe it isn't love-not yet-but it's something deeply emotional and strong, because he has no reason to want to rip up our perfectly fine marriage contract or call me Annabelle.
"What are you thinking?"
I hesitate, then murmur, "Nothing."
He puts a finger under my chin and tilts my head up. "When a woman says nothing, it's always something."
I flush. "Sometimes us women say exactly what we mean."
"Sometimes … but you hesitated."
Touché. "Okay. I was wondering … I'm curious why you really want to rip up the contract." When he tries to talk, I put a finger over his mouth. "You made your proposal because you want your grandfather's painting, plus you want my body. You have me now. And I don't think you're going to want the body after a year, not without a deep emotional foundation."
He nips my finger, then licks the sting. "You're right about my initial … plan. But that doesn't mean what I want can't change." He stops. A look of fierce concentration comes over him, and he continues, "You remember the work I did with Lucas, right?"
"Yes. Your algorithm." I give him a rueful smile. "I'm not exactly certain what it's supposed to do, though."
"Basically, it predicts people's future actions based on their interests and previous behavior. So naturally the impression is that someone who can put something like that together is good at emotion and"-he waves a hand-"all that stuff … but I'm not. We were looking at aggregate data and how people who fit certain profiles behaved. But on an individual level, well … it's pretty useless."
I nod, not entirely sure why he wants to tell me this.