no control

• forty nine •

gladys

His words hung between us like a wall of cracked glass.

Marry me.

I stared up into Elijah's impermeable black eyes. I never felt so distant from him. Yet, at the same time, he offered me more insight into his mind than he ever had.

Some kind of emotional block held him back. He could admit to caring for me, but he wouldn't allow himself to call it 'love.'

He was a tortured soul. I knew that early on. I was far from perfect myself. Our dynamic was fucked from the start.

I was desperate to feel loved and wanted by someone. He wanted someone to control, to possess. Our demons fed off each other in a vicious, intoxicating cycle.

Yet, how could I despise him when he made me feel the way I always wanted to? Wanted, desirable, sexy, safe, worthy.

I couldn't. Even knowing he may never admit to loving me, I would never pass the opportunity to be with him. We were broken, together.

"Marriage isn't something to casually throw around," I insisted, despite my racing heart.

He gripped my hips. "That wasn't a casual offer."

"I want to marry for love, Elijah. Not obligation."

"You're stuck with me, baby," he said. "The least I can do is give you my last name."

The corner of his mouth twitched with the faintest of smiles. My heart flapped wildly against my ribs.

"Still sounds like a shit reason to get married."

"I want to make you mine in every way possible. Is that a good enough reason?"

My heart paddled in my stomach. "Don't you think it's a little preposterous? I'm only 18."

"We can have a long engagement, if you want. We don't have to do a ceremony until you're ready."

I didn't want to allow myself to even dream about being engaged to Elijah. That life seemed like such a fantasy.

My heart and pride still smarted from his unwillingness to admit that he loved me, but I knew loved him and that he would be committed to me. Maybe someday I could break down walls and he would feel safe enough to be honest about his feelings. He could learn how to be vulnerable because I would take care of his heart.

Elijah's hands slid down to circle my wrists. My body immediately went pliant against him. I became breathless, trying to ignore the slippery clenching in my core.

It dawned on me that we were both naked and wet. I cursed my body for its shameless reaction to him.

"I don't want you to do something you'll regret later," I puffed out. I fought desperately to remain in control of my response to him.

He remained quiet for what felt like forever. I wondered if he even heard me. Then, I felt him quiver around me. My anxious gaze flashed up to his.

His full lips were parted as a breathy huff escaped him. I blinked hard, recognizing that noise as a very soft chuckle.

"You worry for everyone but yourself," he said. "I will never regret you. You are the best part of my life."

Just admit it! I wanted to scream. He did love me, he just didn't recognize it as love.

Has he never experienced love before? I wondered.

I was no expert, but I remembered being loved by my parents. I might have lost them at a young age, but their unconditional love left a deep imprint and yearning in my heart for more.

I was broken but I wasn't incapable of love. Neither was Elijah. I just needed to show him.

I would marry him and do much worse to show him that my love was unconditional.

Love is a statement, a declaration. A promise to find the positive in someone despite their flaws. To see the best in them and to be the best for them.

Love makes us weak, but it also makes us stronger. Love is devotion and courage and compassion. Love is kindness amidst heartbreak, patience despite pain.

The only thing holding me back was the future. I wanted to have this man in whatever form that meant.

But what would that look like in a year? In 5 years? In 50?

What if he never came to believe in love?

Could I respect myself if I stayed with a man who couldn't be honest with himself about his feelings?

Could I have children with a man who believed himself incapable of love?

What if this was just a temporary obsession at the end of the day?

He could easily just fixate on something else. Someone else.

My throat tightened.

"Angel," he spoke.

I closed my eyes and sighed. My suspicions were exterminated under his seductive voice that filled my ears like a siren's song.

I knew my answer. I knew what I wanted. I was terrified, yes, but I knew jumping into the fear would be worth it.

I loved this sexy, commandeering asshole as if he was the very breath swimming in my lungs or the blood pulsing through my heart.

"You know I will," I murmured.

"You will . . . ?"

I opened my eyes to peer up at him. "I will marry you."

Before I could process a change of expression on his face, his mouth claimed mine in a rough, fevered haste.

I cradled his cheeks in my palms and kissed him fervently. My body hungered for his touch and his taste. I could already feel my sore pussy was slippery again.

As if reading my mind, he brought his hand to my thighs and spread them apart. His fingers stroked through my petals with unexpected gentleness. The tip of his middle finger found the swell of my clit and rubbed little circles on it.

My body spasmed under his invasion. I bit my lip to stifle some of the noise but he used his free hand to pull my lip free.

"I want to hear all your sexy little noises," he growled.

I gasped as he slid two fingers inside my slippery channel. My walls constricted around him, which only built up the pressure against my clit. I grabbed onto his shoulders with a wanton moan.

He thrust his fingers slowly in and out of me. My breath grew harsh and the edges of my vision darkened. The knot growing in my stomach exploded and I screamed out.

Just as I began to climax, Elijah pulled his fingers out and slammed his cock inside me. He pinned me to the wall and plunged mercilessly in and out of my pussy.

Waves of ecstasy crashed over me. My body twitched and tremored as my walls tightened around him.

"My beautiful angel," he groaned. His breath was hot in my ear, contrasting the cold tile against my back. "I'm going to fill your sweet pussy."

His dirty words coated my skin in perspiration. He drilled into me so hard that I saw stars. My screams of rapture rang in my ears as I shuddered again, this time all over his hard length.

His body tensed around me, followed by a snarl. He pressed his face to my neck as his load spurted into my womb. His sharp breaths tickled my neck.

I pressed tiredly into him, overwhelmed and overstimulated.

"My angel, my baby," he murmured. "Soon you'll be my wife."