Elliot liked the way she cradled his neck while they fucked. Her hand laid on the nape of his neck never squeezing but applying just enough pressure to assure Elliot this was all real. That it wasn't all in his head.
Her soft body was always forgiving as he pounded away his demons, her body arched, hard nipples brushing against his chest, her moans slurred against his neck. Their encounters always left Elliot with bite marks and hickeys that not even the collar of his shirt could hide. She kissed him roughly, pulling his lip between her teeth, sometimes even drawing blood. Curses fell from her lips like prayers as every thrust was driven home.
Elliot let out a low groan as her insides spasmed around him, the pulsation of her walls make it impossible for him to last much longer than her. It felt good to touch her, to fuck her, to hear her moan. It was narcotic; primal.
Elliot liked coming inside her, he knew he shouldn't but there was something about coming inside a girl like this that felt wicked, wickeder because it supplied him with a high he's never gotten from her before. She just throws her head back and takes it unaware of it all.
Elliot rolls of her as soon as he's finished, basking in the post-coital high. He kisses her shoulder, glistening with sweat. She lies beside him panting, caramel skin glowing, chest flushed pink, a just fucked wetness between her thighs…she's beautiful. She turns to Elliot, lips barely brushing, noses touching. Her chest is still heaving as she presses a swollen kiss to his lips. She rubs her nose against his before rolling out of bed.
Elliot watches as she smooths down her rumpled curls. She looks like Venus emerging from the sea in slivers of 7 am light. Elliot notices his semen running down her thigh, she's unbothered wiping it away before sliding her panties back on.
"You can stay" Elliot says unsure of her reaction. He's never offered to let her stay, it was never their style. Not that they had a 'style', they fucked and didn't talk outside of that.
She gives him a soft half smile, throwing on his crumpled black tee, absently shoving her shirt and bra into her bag.
"Stay", he repeats as he watches her put her feet into her shoes.
She leans over the bed, her black hair tickling his bare chest. Her lips press against his, Elliot grips the back of her neck, working his tongue into her mouth. He secretly hopes this convinces her to stay. He wants nothing more than to stay in bed all day fucking her brains out and getting high.
She pulls away resting her forehead against his. "I'm not your girlfriend, Elliot. I'm your drug dealer."
"I'll see you next week." She tosses over her shoulder as she exits his apartment.
Hey guys! This is just a drabble, I wrote at 12 am, haha. Let me know what you think about this and maybe I'll expand this! Also this is OC, if i do decide to make this a story Shaylah will be in the story but in a different capacity than she is in the show!
xx M