I roll my hips, shifting to find new angles, and he catches my hip.
“Wait,” he clips. His eyes are almost black. The hunger in them scares me. “Give it a second. Let yourself get used to me.”
He isn’t wrong.
It feels better already. Easier.
The friction, glorious.
I catch my breath as I shift again.
“Hattie?”
“Feels good,” I whisper against his mouth.
He shudders and starts moving again.
Gently at first, then when it’s obvious I really am enjoying it as much as I claim, his strokes get rougher.
In no time, I’m riding a human wave, tossing me up and down like a ship he wants to wreck.
His hips fall like boulders, almost bruising, making mefeelevery vein in his cock.
Holy flaming shit!
He grabs my breasts, pinching my nipples hard enough to send a little sting to my core.
Pleasure consumes me, and hovering over me, Ethan’s face is tight with it.
This carnal delight that sharpens every feature and gives his shadows depth.
God, does all sex with him always feel like this?
It’s like I’ve spent my life in a cave and I’ve just stepped into the sunlight.
Sex has never been great.
Never anything remarkable or worth going crazy for beyond the heat of the moment.
I’ve chased intimacy more than raw, blind pleasure.
But with Ethan, it’s like chocolate and peanut butter, two perfect complements.
Two delicious halves of one whole.
I’m so deep in the zone I reach down to touch myself, but he catches my hand and pushes it away.
“No.” He pulls my hand to his mouth, gently biting it. “You’ll come when I tell you, Pages.”
Not fair!
But it’s also strangely reasonable because I’ve already come once.
Still, I wiggle under him, biting my lip so he can’t see me panting.
I think he notices anyway, though, and he gives me a rare smile.
“I love seeing you frustrated. Payback. Do you know how many damn times you’ve had me dying from blue balls?” He cups my breast and squeezes. “How many times I’ve thoughtabout that kiss, fucking my cock with my fist and spraying come?”
