𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧- 𝐄.𝐌

28. I see Red

DISCLAIMER : The Chapter begins with smut. If that is something that you are not comfortable with, scroll to the end, skip it. Those you like it, read it, have fun!

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The second the bedroom door slammed shut behind them, Elijah had Maeve pinned against it, his body pressing into hers, solid and unyielding. The air between them was thick, electric, their heavy breaths the only sound in the dimly lit room.

Maeve had barely a second to adjust before Elijah's lips crashed into hers again, claiming, demanding, consuming. His hands roamed her body with deliberate slowness, fingertips teasing the bare skin of her arms before slipping down to her waist. She gasped as he gripped her hips, fingers digging in just enough to make her feel that he wouldn't let her escape.

Her hands, however, weren't passive. She tugged at his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric, before finally pulling it over his head. The sight of him, lean muscle taut with tension, made her mouth go dry. Maeve ran her palms over his chest, nails lightly raking down, earning her a sharp inhale from Elijah.

But he wasn't about to let her take control.

Before she could reach for him again, he grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head, his knee parting her thighs just enough to make her whimper. His dark eyes burned into hers. "Do you think you hold the power here?" His voice was low, rough, taunting. "You push me away, make me wonder what went wrong, make me worry every waking moment to the point where I couldn't breathe, and now you think you can take from me as you please?"

Maeve's breath hitched. "I—"

Elijah tilted his head, as if daring her to lie to him.

She didn't. Instead, she arched into him, her body betraying her with how desperately she craved his touch. He smirked, pleased with her silent admission. "That's what I thought." away from the kiss. Both gasped for air. Their eyes wide and desiring the touch from other gazed deep. 

Without warning, he released her wrists only to grip the back of her neck, pulling her into another deep, bruising kiss. Maeve moaned against his lips as his free hand trailed down, fingers teasing the hem of her dress before bunching it up at her waist. He let his knuckles graze the inside of her thigh, barely touching, making her squirm.

"Elijah—" she exhaled, frustration thick in her voice. 

In one swift movement, he lifted her off the ground. Maeve's legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried her across the room, his lips trailing down her throat, biting and sucking until small marks bloomed against her skin. He dropped her onto the bed, standing over her with a dark, hungry gaze.

"Take this off," he ordered, pointing at her pants and shirt.

Maeve hesitated for only a second before slipping it over her head, leaving her in nothing but lace. Elijah's jaw clenched as his eyes roamed over her, drinking in every inch of exposed skin. "Beautiful," he murmured before kneeling between her parted legs, hands sliding up her thighs, spreading her open for him.

She should have been embarrassed by how easily she surrendered, but all she felt was want.

Elijah leaned over her, his fingers tracing the delicate lace clinging to her body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Maeve's breath hitched as his lips followed, pressing soft, deliberate kisses along her collarbone, her shoulder, down the curve of her stomach—each touch a silent claim, each whisper of breath a promise.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with something electric, something inevitable. Maeve curled her fingers into the sheets, eyes closed and head titled up. His lips brushed against her ear, his voice nothing but a velvet command against her skin.