The CEO’s Unspoken Love (Eleanor and Derek) novel Chapter 159

Chapter 159

Eleanor POV

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I leaned in, nry heart a tangled web of unresolved emotions-longing mixed with the sharp sting of betrayal, doubt laced with a

desperate flicker of hope and pressed my lips to Derek’s.

The kiss was not an answer, not a promise; it was a surrender to the chaos swirling inside me, a way to silence the questions that

had no easy resolution. He was still on his knees before me, his strong hands gripping my thighs through the fabric as if anchoring

himself against the storm of his own remorse.

The Boston winter pressed against the windows of my old Victorian home, January’s relentless chill seeping through the cracks,

carrying with it the faint howl of wind that whipped snowflakes into frenzied dances against the glass. The living room was dimly

lit by the flickering remnants of a fire in the hearth, casting long, wavering shadows that made the space feel both intimate and

isolating, like we were the only two souls left in a world blanketed by white oblivion.

Tears still streaked his cheeks, salty trails that gleamed in the firelight, remnants of his confession about discovering my battle with

depression.

He hadn’t asked again for a second chance; his earlier plea hung unspoken between us, heavy as the accumulating snow outside.

Instead, he responded to my kiss with a quiet intensity, his lips parting under mine, his tongue meeting my probing one in a

tentative dance that spoke of humility and yearning.

A soft, involuntary groan rumbled from his throat, vibrating against my mouth as his arms encircled my waist, pulling me closer

without demand, as if afraid any bolder move might shatter this fragile moment.

Without words, he rose from his knees, the floorboards creaking under his weight, and scooped me up in his arms in a princess

carry. My coat, heavy and woolen, draped open as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers threading into the damp curls at

his nape. I didn’t pull away; instead, I deepened the kiss during our ascent to the second floor, my lips brushing his with increasing urgency, my teeth grazing his lower lip in a nip that drew a sharp intake of breath from him.

The stairs groaned under his careful steps, each one measured despite the ragged rhythm of his breathing against my skin. The air

grew slightly warmer as we climbed, away from the drafty lower level, but the chill lingered, a reminder of the frozen world beyond

our walls. Snow continued to fall outside, fat flakes accumulating on the sills, turning the night into a muted, dreamlike haze where

time seemed suspended.

He shouldered open the bedroom door and lowered me onto the bed with reverence, his body hovering for a heartbeat before I

pulled him down beside me, our kisses unbroken, growing more fervent as hands began to explore.

We shed our clothes in a deliberate ritual, his fingers trembling slightly as they worked the buttons of my coat, sliding the heavy

garment off my shoulders to pool on the floor like discarded armor. Beneath, my fitted black skirt hugged my hips, the fabric

smooth and cool against my skin, paired with sheer black stockings that whispered as they brushed against the sheets.

His undershirt came next-1 tugged it over his head, revealing the expanse of his chest, the defined pectorals rising and falling with

each breath, a faint scattering of dark hair trailing downward in a line that disappeared into his pants. The scent of him filled my

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Chapter 159

senses-clean sweat mingled with the crisp outdoor air and a hint of his cologne, woody and familiar, stirring memories 1 d tried to

bury.

He unzipped my skirt with careful hands, sliding it down my legs along with the stockings, the silk gliding over my skin like a

caress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. My bra and panties followed, black lace that he peeled away slowly, his eyes darkening as he

exposed my breasts–the nipples hardening in the cool room air-and then my pussy, the folds already slick with arousal, the

trimmed curls above my clit damp and inviting.

I returned the favor, unbuckling his belt with steady fingers, pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock emerged, thick

and veined, curving slightly upward, the shaft rigid with need, the bulbous head flushed a deep pink and glistening with a bead of

pre-cum at the slit. It throbbed under my gaze, heavy and warm as it bobbed free, his balls hanging full beneath.

Our naked bodies pressed together, skin flushing where we touched, but as he shifted instinctively to roll over me-his old habit of

taking charge surfacing-I placed a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him back down. I straddled his hips, my knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him, my pussy hovering just above his abdomen, the heat from my core radiating downward.

“Eleanor?” His voice was a hushed whisper, laced with surprise, his tear-streaked eyes searching mine in the lamplight. There was no

resistance, no question of why-only a quiet acceptance, his body yielding beneath me as if he’d already vowed to himself that

tonight, he would be whatever I needed him to be. His humility was palpable, a far cry from the confident man I’d married, now

reduced to this supplicant state, eager only to please, to atone for the pain he’d caused.

I silenced him with a finger to my lips, a soft shh escaping me as my own eyes brimmed with tears-tears born not of sorrow

alone, but of the profound ache to find proof in this intimacy that we could still be whole together, that our bodies could bridge the

chasm our words couldn’t.

Leaning down. I kissed him deeply, my tongue delving into his mouth, tasting the remnants of his earlier tears, my breasts pressing against his chest, nipples grazing his skin and sending sparks through me.

Breaking the kiss, I trailed my lips along his jaw, down the column of his neck, nipping at the pulse point where his heartbeat thrummed erratically. My hands roamed his torso, fingers tracing the ridges of his abs, dipping into the valleys between muscles.

Lower still, I wrapped my hand around his cock, the heat of it searing my palm, the skin velvet-soft over the unyielding hardness

beneath.

I stroked him languidly at first, from base to tip, feeling the veins pulse under my fingers, the pre-cum slicking my movements as I

twisted my wrist gently at the head. He inhaled sharply, his hips twitching involuntarily, but he stilled them, his hands resting

lightly on my thighs, thumbs drawing small, soothing circles as if to encourage me without intruding..

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The CEO’s Unspoken Love