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I ride the orgasm out, body and soul wrapped around Ethan as he pulls every ounce of ecstasy he can from me. When it’s over, when I can think and breathe and maybe even stand again, I press my lips against his ear and whisper, “I love you, baby. I love you so much.”

I know we have a lot of awful things to work through, know that we have a lot of history between us that can never be undone. Two weeks ago, that history seemed insurmountable, absolute. But two weeks without him in my life, two weeks without seeing him, touching him, holding him, has given me a new perspective on what I can handle.

I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. I’m not saying we aren’t going to have some bad moments. But are those bad moments worth giving up all the good ones, as well? Are they worth spending the rest of my life like a member of the walking dead?

I

don’t think so. Not after everything I’ve gone through these last two weeks. Not when I look into a future filled with emptiness and agony without him.

“I love you,” I tell him again, because I can’t not tell him. Not when I’m filled to bursting with the feelings ricocheting around inside of me.

Ethan freezes at my words, his whole body turning to stone even as his cock twitches against me. “Chloe. Baby.”

His voice is choked, quiet, devastated, and it gets rid of the last of my doubts. A better woman than I might have been able to hold out, but then that woman wouldn’t have Ethan and he’s worth a little sacrifice, worth a lot of compromise.

Honestly, he’s worth everything.

“I love you,” he tells me. “I love you so much.” And then he’s tearing at his fly, ripping his zipper open with a desperation that could be dangerous if he isn’t careful. Seconds later, he’s doing the same to my pants, throwing them onto the wet sand seconds before sheathing himself in a condom. Then he’s lifting me up again, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist before pressing slowly, steadily, inexorably inside of me.

It’s only been two weeks, yet it feels like forever, and I gasp as he fills me up. Gasp again as he bottoms out and then starts to move gently, carefully, inside of me.

Despite the urgency I can see in his eyes, he starts slowly, giving me time to adjust to his body after going so many days without it. As always, I’m thankful for his care—between the physical sensations swamping me and the emotions washing over me, I’m drowning in sensation.

“You okay, baby?” he asks, pressing open-mouthed kisses against my cheek, my jaw, my lips.

“Yes. God, yes.” It’s only been minutes since I came and yet the need is already building inside of me again, my body starving for Ethan and the pleasure he brings me with every squeeze of his hand, every press of his body. I skim my hands over his shoulders, down his heavily muscled back, stroke my fingers over his waist before sliding them lower to cup his ass.

Ethan groans at the contact, gasping as I yank him hard against me, inside me.

The last tenuous grip he has on control shatters and he slams into me again and again and again. I meet him thrust for thrust, my body arching against his as he devours me—hands everywhere, mouth everywhere. On my neck, my shoulders, the sensitive skin of my elbow. He skims his lips across my breasts to toy with my nipples, rubs glancing caresses against my clit before sliding his thumb between my ass cheeks and pressing it slowly, carefully, against my anus.

I gasp, eyes going wide as my body arches instinctively against him. He’s never done this to me before and I don’t know what to do, how to react. It makes me nervous, makes me squirm against him even as it takes my pleasure to a whole new level.

“Okay?” he murmurs against my mouth, his thumb stroking over a whole slew of nerve endings I never knew I had.

Part of me wants to say no, to tell him it’s too intimate, that it’s too much. But this is Ethan and with him, there’s no such thing as too much. There’s only more. More pleasure. More sensation. More intimacy. More and more and more until we’re part of each other, until I can’t tell where he begins and I leave off.

“Yes,” I gasp as my body starts to go into overload at the duel sensations. I’m trembling, sobbing, my nails raking down his back as my body arches against him, desperate for more. Desperate for whatever he’s going to give me.

It’s almost painful, how acute the sensations are. Painful and overwhelming and terrifying. He’s kissing me everywhere, touching me everywhere, and I want to live in this moment forever.

Except it really is starting to hurt, this need I have for him, the pain and pleasure mingling deep inside of me until I don’t know where one ends and the other begins. I know only that if we keep going like this, I’m going to go supernova, my body exploding outward in a blinding flash of heat.

“Ethan!” I wail, clinging to him as the sensations build and build and build inside me. The storm is still raging around us, the hot slap of the wind and rain only adding to the overload of emotion and pleasure that is swamping me, dragging me under.

“I’ve got you, Chloe,” he tells me again, right before he seizes my mouth in a kiss that takes me over completely. “Let go, baby. Just let go.”

He bites down hard on my lip at the same time he twists his thumb deep inside me. The result is a cataclysm of ecstasy sweeping through me, lighting me up from the inside and turning my whole body inside out as Ethan slams me into the most intense orgasm of my life.

“Fuck, Chloe!” he groans as my body goes haywire, vision blurring, breath stuttering, sex clenching rhythmically around him.

And then he’s coming, his face buried against my neck as he empties all that he has, all that he is, so deep inside of me that I know I’ll never, ever be the same again.

Chapter Ten

When it’s over, when my body has stopped wigging out in twenty-seven different directions and I can almost remember what it feels like to take a full breath, Ethan slides me slowly down his body until my feet meet the hard packed sand.

My legs buckle the moment I try to actually use them for more than holding on to Ethan, and I start to crumble. He catches me, his hands warm and big against my back as he holds me up.

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