MARK YOUR TERRITORY
Life is bliss, or maybe it’s all the orgasms.
“Come back to bed,” Ethan whines.
“Can’t.” I spritz some perfume on my wrist and then dab it on my neck. “I’m interviewing Cole, and we agreed to meet at Sagebrush Diner at eight.”
“Fuck that guy.”
I have to stifle a laugh. Cole has been nothing but a gentleman since he found out about Ethan and me. In fact, he looks at us like he’s brimming with satisfaction, as if he orchestrated the whole thing. But Ethan still hasn’t moved on from watching him flirt with me at The Jackalope, and it doesn’t seem like he’ll be letting it go anytime soon.
I walk over to Ethan’s side of the bed. The sheets are resting low around his waist, his bare chest on full display. The temptation to stay in bed all day is strong. Like really, really strong.
After we got back from Coeur d’Alene, we didn’t come up for air for a while. I’m pretty sure our week of sex changed my entire gait. I’m still paranoid about it.
“My girlfriend is leaving me for another man.”
My heart still pinches when he calls me his girlfriend. It’s silly how happy one word can make me.
“You’re being very dramatic.”
I bend down to give him a kiss, but he surprises me by grabbing me around the waist and pulling me on top of him. I can’t even catch my breath, because in one swift move, the room tilts and he has me pinned against the bed, my dress gathered up at the waist.
“Ethan!”
He settles between my legs, making it very evident how hard he is under his boxer briefs. “I promise not to make you late,” he mumbles into my neck, sending confetti-like tingles down my back.
Goose, who was lying at the foot of the bed, lets out a groan and gets up to leave. He’s had it with our antics.
Whipping my attention back to Ethan, I meet his stare. “I’m cutting it close.” My words hold no conviction, since I’m already shamelessly rubbing against him.
He pushes my dress up even more and yanks my underwear to the side, hooking two fingers in my already drenched pussy.
“Always so ready for me.” His fingers work in a fast rhythm, going in and out at just the right angle that disconnects every synapse in my brain, leaving me completely thoughtless. “Hear that, baby? Your pussy just loves drenching my fingers in a slippery mess.”
The sounds of my arousal fill the room, tangling with my ragged breaths and guttural moans.
“You want my cock?”
“Y-yes,” I stammer.
He keeps bringing me to the brink of orgasm and then pulling out his fingers, leaving me writhing with need.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, please, give me your cock.”
That’s all it takes for him to ram into me, filling me to the hilt. We both groan in relief at the connection.
“Every. Fucking. Time,” Ethan groans. “Your pussy is my sweetest vice.”
He pounds into me roughly, and I’m lost in the euphoria of being utterly possessed by Ethan. He’s so gentle with me in every other way, but when it comes to sex, he treats me the way I’ve always fantasized about but could never vocalize for fear of being looked at like I was something less. Ethan manages to fuck me like the slut I want to be in the bedroom, while still making me feel like a precious stone, something to be cared for outside of the bedroom. Right now, he’s filling me completely, almost painfully so. My wrists are pushing into the mattress as he holds them firmly down. I’m at his mercy, and the thought alone could give me an orgasm. He pulls nearly all the way out before slamming all the way in, my brain rattling inside my head.
“You like being fucked hard and rough, don’t you?”
My back begins arching off the bed, chasing the build as I moan incoherent sounds, words escaping me.
“That’s right, baby, squeeze my cock. Such a good girl with a needy pussy.”
