Breaking Him(46)

I twisted in his arms, and he let me. He lifted me off the ground and planted my bare ass on the hood of his truck. His cock was free a second later. He cupped my bottom in one of his massive hands, while I grabbed for his dick, guiding him in.

He slammed up inside me.

I sank my nails into his wide shoulders, mouth dropping open on a moan at the feeling of fullness. It was impossible to think, to do anything but take all of him however he wanted to give it to me. I clung to him while he slammed into me full force, yanking me forward so I met each one of his brutal thrusts.

He grunted, teeth gritted, jarring my entire body every time he pounded into me. I cried out, scratching at his shoulders and back, wanting more, wanting everything he had.

His eyes blazed bright with something I couldn’t name, something that was as beautiful as it was painful to look at. “You’re my salvation, Abigail,” he said, voice low and guttural, each word punctuated with an almost violent thrust of his hips. “Right here, inside you, I’m redeemed. I’m the man you need. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

His words sliced though me, the enormity of what his life had been like, of the way he saw himself. A sob exploded past my lips, forming a coherent reply an impossibility.

Leaning into me, he grabbed my hands, shoving them above my head, and took me down to my back, pinning me against the hood of his truck. “Who owns this pussy?” He ground into me. “The one my cock was made for, the one that gets wet as soon as I touch you?” he snarled.

The answer flew from my lips. “You do.”

“That’s right.” His mouth slammed down on mine, then he rasped against my lips. “Who owns the mouth I’m kissing, darlin’?”

Another sob burst from me. “You do.”

He let go with one hand and dropped it down to my ass again, dipping lower, between my cheeks, teasing my hole. “Who owns this tight ass?”

“Oh God. You do!”

He pushed the tip inside, and I screamed, coming so hard I shook, grinding and moaning as I spasmed around his hard-as-steel cock.

He pulled back suddenly and lifted me off the hood. I wrapped my legs around him instantly, and cock still hard and deep inside me, he strode into the barn. It was quiet, the setting sun filtering through the single window on the rear wall, light catching the dust motes drifting around us like glitter. “I need…” He hissed a breath out through his teeth and shook his head. “I need more, Abi.” His voice was gritty, deep. “Will you give it to me?”

I didn’t know what “more” meant, but I’d give him anything he wanted. We’d tried a few different things since our time in the trapper’s cottage, and I’d loved everything he’d done to me. I trusted him to take care of me, to make whatever we did good. “Y-yes.”

He gripped my hips, ground into me one last time, then pulled out, groaning deeply as he did. He’d carried me to the side of the barn, where the roof tilted downward. Eli stood me in front of him, gripped the bottom of my tank, and pulled it over my head.

His jeans were still undone, cock enormous and slick with my arousal, so hard and thick. My mouth went dry. I wanted to drop to my knees, take that beautiful dick into my mouth…

“I want to tie you up, Abi. I want you to hand every bit of control to me. Everything.”

I swallowed hard, the sound audible.

“Does that scare you?” he choked out. “Are you afraid?”

I shook my head. It didn’t scare me. It turned me the hell on. “No. I trust you.”

His big body jolted like he still couldn’t believe it, like he still expected me to run scared, to turn on him like everybody else. “Hands,” he finally said.

I held them out, and he wrapped my tank around my wrists. Then, grabbing one of the lead ropes from the wall beside us, he tied it around the shirt, using it to protect my wrists. Then lifting my hands, he tied the remaining length over a low beam, so they were suspended above my head.

I couldn’t move, and I was naked apart from my bra.

His fierce stare raked over me, body heaving, veins bulging under his tan skin. There was so much behind his brown eyes, I had no hope of deciphering what he was thinking, feeling.

“Spread your legs nice and wide for me.” I did as he said and he reached down, wrapped his fingers around his cock, and squeezed. “So beautiful. My beautiful angel,” he rasped.

I whimpered, heart pounding at his words, the guttural way he’d said them. I was ready for him again, excited and nervous. He trailed his gaze over my body, and I knew, could see it in his eyes, that he was feeling the same thing I was—afraid that what we had could slip away. Elijah felt the control he held on to crumbling. The world as he knew it was shaking beneath his feet, and he was taking back control the only way he knew how.