Chapter 142: Mining Aunt Eleanor.
The lantern flame flickered low and steady, bathing the chamber in warm golden light that seemed to breathe with the night.
Eleanor waited on the bed.
She lay on her back atop the light sheets, the blue robe fallen open and pooled to either side of her body like spilled ink. Her black hair spread across the pillow in thick, glossy strands, each one catching faint highlights from the lantern as they fanned outward. Her eyes found mine the moment I stepped through the curtain, calm, steady, waiting, the pupils dark and wide in the soft glow.
I crossed the room.
The golden stones were warm under my bare feet, each step pressing heat upward through my soles. Residual water still clung to my skin, tracing slow, cool paths down my shoulders and chest.
One droplet gathered at the ridge of my collarbone, swelled, then fell, striking the stone floor with a clear, soft plink. Another followed from my left pectoral, then my right thigh. My shadow stretched long and dark ahead of me, sliding across the bed and over Eleanor’s beautiful body, momentarily swallowing the lantern light on her skin.
I stopped at the edge of the bed.
[Extract]
Water continued to drip from me onto the stones in irregular, patient intervals. Eleanor looked up at me, one hand resting lightly on the soft plane of her stomach, fingers barely moving against her own skin. She extended the towel toward me with her other hand.
I took it. The fabric carried her scent, faint, clean, and intimately hers. I dragged it across my chest in slow passes, the rough weave scraping gently over my damp skin, absorbing the water and leaving faint traces of warmth. Then across my arms, my shoulders, down my thighs. Droplets fell from the towel as I worked, each one hitting the floor with its own quiet sound. I dropped the towel aside.
"Are you ready?" she asked as I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back against the rail.
The carved wood pressed cool and smooth against my spine. The mattress dipped beneath my weight, sheets shifting with a soft rustle.
I didn’t answer. I climbed onto the bed.
My right knee sank into the mattress first, compressing the bedding deeply. Then the left. I moved forward on my knees toward where she lay leaning against the rail, her back not quite straight. She moved her legs, straightening them slowly along the bed, the smooth skin of her thighs sliding against the sheets.
I advanced further. My knees slid along the outside of her legs, positioning them so her thighs rested between mine. The heat of her skin radiated upward against the insides of my legs. I crawled higher, my body moving deliberately forward, head lowering toward her as I advanced. She shifted her legs a little, a subtle adjustment that opened her slightly wider beneath me.
"I’m ready," I said. The words came low, rough in my throat.
She looked at my face first, her dark eyes tracing slowly upward, then downward across my fully naked body above her, shoulders, chest, abdomen, and the heavy, hard length of my cock that throbbed visibly with each heartbeat.
"Just make sure I release," she said.
Her hand moved toward the edge of the robe, fingers brushing the silk as if to pull it further aside. I caught her wrist mid-motion. My fingers closed firmly around the delicate bones, feeling the quick flutter of her pulse beneath the skin. I pinned her hand against the bed rail, leaning my weight forward. My chest pressed against hers, squeezing her back harder into the rail. The wood creaked faintly under the pressure.
My mouth came down on hers.
Our lips met hard, hot, urgent. The softness of her mouth yielded instantly, parting beneath mine. Our tongues slid together in a slow, deep glide that quickly grew fiercer. She kissed me back with equal hunger, her free hand rising to grip the back of my neck, fingers threading through my damp hair and pulling me closer. Her body arched up into mine.
I pushed her further against the rail. The hard length of my cock rested heavy against the warm, soft skin of her stomach, throbbing there with every slow beat of my heart while water from my skin continued to smear across her breasts in glistening streaks. The lantern light danced across us, holding every detail in sharp, suspended clarity.
Our mouths moved together in a heavy rhythm. The wet heat of her tongue meeting mine, slow and insistent, the faint salt of her lips contrasting the cool traces of water still evaporating from my jaw.
She tasted warm and clean. Beneath me, her body yielded with a soft give, ribs expanding against my chest as she drew a deeper breath. The carved wooden rail behind her creaked again under the steady press of my weight, a low, dry protest that cut through the quiet room.
I shifted my hips forward, gravity pulling me down. The heavy length of my cock slid against the smooth plane of her stomach, skin on skin, the residual moisture from my bath creating a slick friction that cooled instantly where the night air touched it.
Her skin burned hotter there, almost feverish, and the contrast made every slow grind of my hips feel sharper. A bead of water slipped from my collarbone, rolled down the slope of my pectoral, and fell onto the upper swell of her breast. It traced a glistening path toward her nipple before my chest pressed it flat between us.
Eleanor’s free hand tightened at the nape of my neck, fingers threading through damp strands and tugging with small, deliberate pulls. The tug traveled down my spine in a ripple of sensation. Her pinned wrist flexed once beneath my grip, delicate bones shifting under my fingers, pulse beating quick and strong against my thumb. I did not release her.
I broke the kiss only enough to drag my mouth along her jaw, the rough stubble of my chin scraping lightly over her smoother skin. The sound of our breathing filled the space, mine low and measured, hers quicker, softer exhales brushing warm against my ear.
Below, her thighs parted another inch between my knees, the smooth inner skin brushing the inside of my legs. The mattress dipped and compressed beneath our combined weight, sheets bunching and rustling with every micro-adjustment.
"Wait." She breathed.
The word slipped hot and ragged against my mouth. Her free hand still tight on the back of my neck, not pushing away, but holding me there for one suspended heartbeat. Her chest rose sharply against mine, nipples hard and flushed as they dragged across my wet skin.
I froze mid-motion.
She drew in a slow, shaky breath that made her breasts press harder into my chest.
"Abram," she whispered, voice husky, almost trembling. "Not like this."
Her thighs tightened slightly between my knees, smooth muscle flexing against my skin as she shifted her hips.
Her fingers loosened on my neck, then slid down to my jaw, thumb brushing across my lower lip. Her other wrist remained pinned to the rail, pulse hammering against my thumb.
"Slow," she breathed, eyes locked on mine. "I want to feel every second of this."
Her legs parted another inch between my knees, opening herself wider beneath me.
She leaned up just enough to brush her lips against mine again, softer this time, teasing, tasting. Her tongue flicked lightly against my lower lip before she pulled back half an inch, breath mingling hot between us.
"Make me release. Take your time."
