Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

T he moment we stepped into Michael’s apartment; we barely made it to the bedroom. His hands were all over me, lifting me effortlessly into his arms. He carried me down the hallway, our lips never quite parting, before gently setting me down near his bed. I wobbled on my feet, breathless and already feeling the heat between us.

“Strip,” he ordered, his voice low, commanding, as he began to undress himself, one slow movement at a time. My heart hammered in my chest, and I watched him, mesmerized. Even after all this time, the sight of him still made my mouth go dry.

I hesitated for a second, eyeing his erection straining through his boxer briefs. “How can you stand it?” I gestured toward the obvious tension in his pants.

“It’s not easy,” he growled, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But you’re worth the wait.”

I quirked a brow. “I’m flattered.”

I hadn’t stripped fast enough for his liking, and Michael quickly closed the distance between us. His fingers moved with practiced ease, unbuttoning my blouse as I reached down, brushing my hand over the bulge in his briefs. He groaned, his gaze locking onto mine, heated and full of intent.

“Were you serious about oral?” I asked, teasingly, my fingers stroking along his heavy shaft.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “Why?”

“Because I want to suck you off,” I purred.

His eyes darkened. “I have no objection to that, but first—” He slid the last button free and tugged my blouse off. “—I want you naked.”

The cool air kissed my skin as he finished undressing me, leaving me bare under his heated gaze. Slowly, deliberately, I dropped to my knees, eyes never leaving his.

“No,” he said firmly. “On the bed.”

I raised an eyebrow, testing him. “You like ordering me around, don’t you?”

“I told you I can be dominant at times,” he replied, guiding me to the edge of the bed.

“But I’m not submissive,” I countered.

A slow, knowing grin spread across his face as he leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear. “In some ways, you are. You just don’t realize it.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the way he pulled me onto the bed made me realize he wasn’t entirely wrong. I settled back against the pillows, watching as he climbed up, his back against the headboard, his cock hard and pressing against his stomach. The head was already slick with precum, glistening under the dim light.

My mouth watered. Without another word, I slipped between his legs, wrapping my hand around the base of his cock. The weight of it in my hand sent a thrill through me as I leaned down and let my tongue flick across the head, tasting the salty fluid there. I moaned softly, licking again, this time letting my lips wrap around him.

Michael groaned deeply, threading his fingers into my hair, guiding me as I took him deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Suck me.”

I hollowed my cheeks, bobbing my head up and down his shaft, pacing it with the twist of my hand. I wanted to see him unravel, to feel the control slip from his grasp. For once, he was the one at my mercy. I could feel his breath hitching, his body tensing as I fondled his balls with my free hand, massaging that sensitive spot behind them.

“Shit, that feels so good,” he groaned, his voice strained.

I doubled down, working him harder, feeling his hips start to thrust up slightly, instinct taking over. His breathing grew ragged, the muscles in his thighs tightening beneath my touch.

“Morgan,” he gasped, “I’m gonna come.”

I didn’t stop. I wanted it. All of it. His release, his pleasure—everything. A guttural moan escaped him as he came, his cum spilling into my mouth in thick, hot ropes. I swallowed it all, determined to take every last drop, fighting the urge to gag as he pulsed in my throat. When he was finally spent, his grip loosened on my hair, and he slumped back against the headboard, breathing heavily.

I wiped the corner of my mouth and grinned up at him. “As soon as I regain my composure,” he panted, “it’s your turn.”

I crawled up beside him, curling my body against his. “No need to return the favor,” I whispered. “I’d rather you fuck me.”

He chuckled, his hand moving up to cup my breast. “And I’d rather get the full effect of what I tasted on my fingers earlier.”

His head dipped, his lips capturing one of my nipples, and I groaned, holding his head to my chest. His free hand slid down my stomach, finding the wetness between my thighs. Two fingers slipped inside me, spreading me wide as he thumbed my clit.

“Michael,” I gasped, arching against him.

He hummed against my skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” I whimpered, desperate now.

“That’s not the right answer,” he teased, his fingers thrusting deeper.

“But that’s what I want!” I moaned, the pressure building unbearably inside me.

Just as I teetered on the edge, he stopped, pulling his fingers from me. I let out a frustrated whine, reaching down to finish what he’d started, but he slapped my hand away with a playful smirk.

“No,” he said darkly. “You already got yourself off once. Now it’s my turn.”

“I was so close,” I whimpered.

He grinned wickedly. “And you’ll be close again. Maybe this time I’ll let you go over the edge.”

Before I could respond, he slid down my body, positioning himself between my thighs, mirroring the position I had been in earlier. What he did next left me utterly unprepared. His tongue moved with precision and skill, licking, sucking, and teasing me until I was a trembling, writhing mess beneath him. He edged me over and over, building me up only to pull back just when I thought I’d explode.

By the time he finally let me come, my orgasm tore through me like wildfire, burning so hot it was almost painful. My body convulsed as wave after wave of pleasure wracked me, leaving me breathless and trembling.

When it was over, I collapsed against the bed, spent and utterly satisfied. The sun was sinking in the sky, and when I glanced at the clock, it was nearing 5 p.m.

My dinner with Slade was scheduled for six, but there was no way I’d make it after what Michael had just put me through.

As if sensing my thoughts, Michael pulled me into his arms, his lips brushing my temple. “Don’t you have a thing tonight?” he murmured.

“I don’t think I’m making my thing,” I whispered, still dazed.

“Do you need to call someone?”

I sighed, curling against his chest. “I can text my friend. Where’s my purse?”

“On the counter in the kitchen,” he replied, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. “I can get it for you.”

“Not yet,” I murmured. “Just hold me for a bit.”

His arms tightened around me. “Gladly. Still want to fuck?”

I smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I don’t have the energy.”

“But you’re satisfied?” he asked softly.

I nodded, sinking deeper into his embrace. “More than satisfied. Thank you.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “The pleasure was all mine.”

I woke to the fading light of sunset, disoriented by the stillness around me. The bed was empty beside me, and Michael’s absence tugged at my gut. I called out, “Michael?”

No answer.

I strained to listen and heard his voice somewhere deeper in the apartment, talking on the phone. My eyes darted to the clock on the nightstand, and panic surged through me. 8:30 p.m. I was more than two hours late for dinner with Slade.

“Shit.” I scrambled out of bed, grabbing Michael’s dress shirt from the floor and slipping it on. His scent—clean soap, musk, and something undeniably him—clung to the fabric. I rushed through the apartment, barefoot and anxious, passing by his open office door. He was sitting in his chair, bare-chested, smiling at me as if he hadn't a care in the world.

But I didn’t stop. My mind was laser-focused on my phone, which I found on the kitchen counter, buzzing with missed texts from Slade. The messages started off casually, but quickly morphed into worry and then hostility. He had every right to be pissed.

I fired off a quick text.

Caught up in a strategy session at work. Didn’t realize the time.

Slade’s response was immediate.

When are you coming home?

I froze, not knowing how to answer him. The lie had already slipped out, and now I was entangled in it.

“Problems?” Michael’s voice came from behind, low and curious.

I turned and found him standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but powder blue boxers that hung low on his hips, his eyes locked on me.

“My dinner companion is not thrilled that I ghosted him,” I admitted.

Michael crossed the room with unhurried confidence. “You can blame me,” he said softly. “You were tired. I wanted you to rest.”

“When did you get up?” I asked, my voice betraying a slight tremor.

He smiled. “About an hour ago. But you were too tempting to disturb.” He cocked his head, studying me. “So… are you staying?”

I sighed, feeling the weight of the question. “I can’t. I’ve got no clothes for tomorrow, and showing up to work in the same outfit? That’s a sure sign of the walk of shame.”

Michael leaned against the counter, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “Who were you on the phone with?”

“My father. About your suggestion.”

I blinked. “What suggestion?”

“A private office. For all the executives. We’re thinking glass walls that can turn opaque with the flip of a switch.” His eyes gleamed with mischief. “You know, for privacy.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And why exactly do you need that kind of privacy? You’ve done just fine without it.”

Michael’s gaze darkened as he took a step closer, trapping me between him and the counter. His hands were suddenly on my shirt, deftly popping a button so his fingers could slip inside, cupping my breast. The heat of his palm sent sparks down my spine.

“You,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “I need it for you.”

A thrill shot through me as I tilted my head up to meet his eyes. “So you can fuck me in the middle of the day? Sneak your tongue between my legs while everyone else is oblivious?”

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against my ear. “Do you want everyone to know what we’re doing? Because I don’t mind. I’m ready to be exclusive.”

“Are we exclusive?” I challenged, my heart thudding in my chest.

Michael’s expression softened. “I don’t plan on being with anyone else,” he said, his voice sincere. “There’s no one else I want.”

“Plans?” I teased. “That’s not exactly a resounding endorsement.”

He sighed, his hand slipping away from my body as he took a step back. “There’s no one else I’d rather be with,” he said. “Is that better?”

I looked away, feeling the weight of my indecision. “I’m not there yet.”

Michael’s jaw clenched, his tone cooling. “Does that mean I have to share you?”

“What if it does?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“I don’t want to share you, Morgan,” he said, his eyes flashing with intensity. “I want you.”

I swallowed hard, the tension between us thick enough to choke on. “Let it go for now,” I said quietly, not sure what else to say.

“Can you at least tell me why you’re holding back?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of frustration. “Why don’t you want to be committed to me?”

“I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you,” I admitted, the truth slipping out before I could stop it.

“You won’t,” he said, stepping closer again, his voice softening. “I know you won’t.”

I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by everything—by him, by Slade, by my own confusion. “I should go,” I said, my voice faltering.

Michael’s expression tightened, the warmth between us evaporating. He withdrew his hand from my shirt, the cool air hitting my skin like a slap. “If that’s what you want.”

Without another word, he turned and walked back to his office, his retreating figure stark against the backdrop of our unresolved mess.

I stood there, staring at the space he’d left behind, feeling the pull of two men, knowing that sooner or later, I’d have to choose.