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Merida was hesitant, her fingers shaking as she unzipped him. When she had freed him he sprang free, and she held him warm, strong and alive in her hand. She felt her lips press together, nervous and unsure of herself.
He closed her hand with his, tight around his solid length, and she watched, mesmerised, as together they stroked, feeling the power they generated building with each movement.
He released her then, and impatiently backed her against the wall with firm kisses, his hands pulling down her dress. As she stepped out of it she looked up to see him sheathing himself.
Her knickers were the only barrier left, and now he was back to kissing her hard, tearing the silk with his big hands. She had never known such male power.
‘Ethan...’
His face was rough on hers and he felt delicious, but she knew she could not let it go unsaid.
‘I’m a virgin.’
He halted, wondering if he’d misheard, or if it was a game.
And then he looked into her eyes, glittering with both lust and terror, and understood what Merida had meant when she’d said she’d never done this before.
He should halt proceedings—he knew that. In fact, he tore off the condom. But then he saw her unshed tears, and the battering of old memories, his fears for his father, were all swept aside by her gaze.
‘Do you want to be here?’ Ethan asked her.
‘Yes!’ Merida almost wept, and then she attempted the impossible: an assured smile.
She moved in to resume kissing him, but Ethan pulled his face back. ‘Then stop pretending,’ he said, for he knew now that her confidence was a lie.
‘I don’t know how to!’
It was the most honest admission of her life.
She did not know how. How to stop smiling and saying things were fine when they weren’t.
She did not know how to voice her needs.
Acting was easy, for she was playing a part and being told how to be. In the real world she simply did not know.
He kissed her, hard and rough, and she felt the bruise of his lips when she wanted tenderness, the scratch of his jaw as she matched his fervour.
Again he hauled himself back. ‘I told you to stop pretending. Stop trying to please me.’
She felt as if she might cry, for it was as if he had discovered her naked beneath a lifetime of disguises.
And then he spoke. ‘You’re doing it anyway.’
It was the nicest thing he could have said, and when a tear fell he dusted the apple of her cheek with his mouth until her lips parted of their own accord and tears rolled down.
Each kiss, no matter how softly delivered, felt like a chisel, tapping away and exposing the real Merida beneath.
He tasted the salt of her tears and carried her to the bed. He stood over her and took off the pearls, her shoes, and even her hair tie until she was utterly naked.
The condom had gone, and his jacket was back in the lounge. At the sight of her triangle of copper curls he mentally cursed, for there were some moments that should go uninterrupted.
For the first and only time that night she sensed his distraction as his eyes darted from where she lay on the bed to the door.
And then she understood. ‘I’m on the Pill.’
‘Never,eversay those words to a bastard like me.’
‘Not even one that I’m crazy about?’
