Jolene

“There's so much wrong with that sentence. I don’t know where to begin.”

That’s not the answer I was hoping for. I can’t respond. I've never been so embarrassed in my life. Quickly grabbing my clothes, I cover myself as best I can. This will be my first and last rejection because I'll never attempt it again.

“Stop... please”

Elliot's warm palm settles on my back. As embarrassed as I am, his touch feels so good. I don’t want to go. God, what's wrong with me? Where is my pride? I wanted to be with him because I was hurt and wanted to feel loved, but the moment I looked into his eyes, it became much more than that. If he tells me, he doesn’t want me. I think it will push me over the edge.

“You're not going to die... and believe me, I want you more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.”

Elliot turns me around to face him, making me meet his eyes.

“When I take you, when! Not if. It will be because you need it. Not for any other reason, Jolene, but because you love me the way I love you. Because you feel like, you’ll die without me inside you... no other reasons will do.”

His words touch the deepest part of my soul, making me feel human again.

“Is that how you feel?” I ask. He brushes his thumb across my lips gently. When his eyes settle, there’s no doubt in my mind it is. Looking back up, he meets my eyes.

“That, and more... so much more.”

Elliot pulls the bunched clothing out of my grasp, stepping closer until he’s pressed against me. Rough hands firmly grasp the base of my skull. He tips my head back, placing a passionate kiss on my lips. And I think I'm going to faint. How could a kiss affect me so deeply? The moment my knees give out, he eases me to the floor. A whoosh of air bursts from my lungs when he brings the same kiss to the most sensitive part of me.

“Stop! I'm...”

I’ve only ever attempted the act with Noah, and the moment I began to get aroused, he stopped. My reaction is embarrassing, but when I try to warn Elliot, he pulls me closer.

“I know my beauty... and nothing pleases me more.”

My cheeks feel heated, and all rational thought leaves me. I'm staring back at Elliot, speechless.

“Is this your first time? There’s no need to be embarrassed, love. You can be honest with me.”

“No! I mean... I had a boyfriend, and we fooled around but he... didn’t like it.”

He looks angry and I'm afraid I said the wrong thing, but he quickly schools his features, offering me a wicked smile.

“Have you ever come with another Jolene?”

Oh god, this is so embarrassing. I debate lying, but he’d probably see right through it. I shake my head, admitting my inexperience. He seems pleased by my answer. Any anger he had is gone completely.

“Have you made yourself come?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head back on my shoulders. I can't look at him when I say it.

“Yes.”

Elliot tugs my panties off and I lean back up, looking at him between my thighs, but he’s not looking at me. He’s fixated on the wet folds before him. They swell under his penetrating gaze. His focus is like a stroke I can feel, as wetness coats me once more.

“Touch yourself Jolene... show me how you make yourself come.”

A hot jolt hits me in my core as my center tightens in response to his words. He may just make me if he keeps saying things like that. No one has ever looked at me the way he is right now, and it emboldens me. My hand begins to reach between my legs, but I pause, unsure.

“Don't be nervous, you’re a beautiful woman Jolene... would it help if I stroked myself as well?”

The thought of him stroking himself between my legs has me flooded with wetness. I'm so aroused my core begins to ache. I'm not sure what comes over me, but I'm shocked at the words that slip out of my lips.

“it's only fair.”

He smiles up at me as if proud.

“touché my love.”

I watch him drag his sweats down and his erection. It pops out past the band, bouncing in front of me. I'm fully aware I have his attention, but I can't look away. The moment he glides his hand over the rigid length, I give in and stroke myself with abandon. In seconds I'm close and my legs reflectively tighten; readying for sweet release.

Elliot stops me, pulling my hand away. Before I can object his hot tongue replaces my fingers and I gasp at the intense sensation; nearly coming instantly. A few strokes and I begin to roll my hips, riding out what I'm sure is going to be the most intense orgasm of my life. He stops. Again! I nearly scream, overcome with frustration. But this time I feel pressure.

The moment I raise my head, his wicked tongue is back at work. He uses his fingers to enter me; the sensation has me mewling and thrashing. I'm sure I should be embarrassed at my performance but I feel nothing but pleasure. I come under his wicked tongue. Still riding out the last few earth-shattering waves, Elliot brings his fingers to his mouth, licking me off of him. My eyes widen in surprise at the erotic image. 

“You taste exactly like I thought you would. Sweet decadent honey.”

I’m speechless as my arousal spikes all over again. His description makes me want to giggle and jump his bones all at once. I can tell he hasn’t released and I find myself eager to reciprocate. I get up on my knees and move toward him. Elliot watches me the way a fierce animal would. Like he’s hungry and ready to pounce. He doesn’t use false pretenses and ask me what I’m doing, he already knows. He doesn’t play coy either; telling me I don’t have to. He wants me to, plain and simple. I love it.

The moment my breath fans him, he’s already got a hand in my hair, holding tight. I give the crowned head a tentative lick and he groans. I find I like his reaction very much. Feeling bolder, I place the tip between my lips, licking along the ridge. He’s so soft and warm there. Tasting him is an experience in itself. Spice and melon it's all I can think to explain it and I’m hungry for more. His groans give me a taste of power as he melts beneath my tongue. The light expression he uniformly wears is gone. Right now, he’s almost exposed. I’m drunk on the control I have by making him feel this way.

“Jolene?”

A voice sounds from the hallway. I pause awkwardly.

“Christ, woman, ignore it, don’t stop!” Elliot grumbles out the demand

Although I don’t want to, I pull away in search of my clothing. Elliot groans, and I utter an apology under my breath. My shorts are in my hand, but my panties are missing. I scramble around on my knees in a panic.

Whoever is calling me can’t be far now and I don’t feel like adding to the ever-growing list of complications that is my life.

“Looking for this?”

I narrow my eyes at the very smug and fully dressed Elliot.

“Hand em over.”

Elliot balls them up and places them in his pocket.

“You owe me… you can have them back once you finish what you started.”

I mask the excitement and anticipation his words create. Slipping my shorts on, I tell him not to hold his breath. I don’t know why I'm goading him or maybe I'm subconsciously that unsure of my pending future.

“There you are.”

Of course, it’s Jacob. He clears his throat, glancing away. Great, he knows something happened.

“The elder needs you.”

Me?

“What does she need me for?”

Right, if he knew, he probably would have said why. I exhale on a sigh, leaving the solace of the gym. Elliot follows me, and I don’t stop him. I could use him in my corner. Who knows what I'm about to face? The elders' discomfort is obvious the moment I enter the room. She cringes, not bothering to make eye contact. Instead, she looks at Jacob. Mathilda sits on the sofa, acting as a conduit for the elder. Her coma like state is eerie but I've seen it before. When Jacob nods, the elder makes her connection and Mathilda's head pops up, her eyes a milky white.

“The end to this chaos lies in her father. The witch will know what spell to preform when she makes contact. You must find him before he uncovers the truth and before the witch dies and sloth returns.”

What? My father is dead. According to Mathilda he was once a phoenix or part of one, that’s still unclear. What I do know is that he died and never rose again.

“Who is my father?”

The dramatic silence annoys me. The elder finally looks at me and says one word that terrifies me. It's worse than the Sanskrit's, the loss of my magic and even the fact I'm harboring the end of the world in my body. The moment my ears make the connection to my mind, a feeling of complete disgust settles deep in my bones.

“Lucifer.”