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“Not as impressive as you.”
I felt a flutter in my chest. “What’s so impressive about me?”
“Your skill with the blade.” When my eyebrows furrowed, he continued. “I saw you train with your father on the field. You’re good. Better than most men.”
“How would you know?” I asked before I took a drink. “If you’re just a banker…”
That smile returned. “You can’t take a compliment.”
“Yes, I can. I just wasn’t expectingthatcompliment.”
“Then what were you expecting? That I tell you how painstakingly beautiful you are? That your ass makes me hard every time I see it? That you have tits that my dick wants to fuck?” He said all those perverse things with the same tone he would use to describe the weather, pulled it off when any other guy would get slapped across the face. “I thought that compliment would be better received.”
I felt the heat burn the skin of my cheeks. Without seeing my reflection, I knew they were rose-red, like a sunburn after a long day outside. My stomach was tight as my core strengthened in preparation for something…whatever it was.
“Or perhaps you prefer the latter.” He took another drink then licked his lips.
“You’re an asshole.”
That grin was back.
“But luckily for you…I like assholes.”
* * *
We entered his home, a modest two-story cottage with a stone fireplace. There was a fire in the hearth when we walked in the door, shadows in the corners of the soft glow. I should have taken a look around and issued a compliment, but I really didn’t give a fuck about his house right now.
When I turned around, his shirt was already off and tossed aside. Built like a mountain but shredded, he was six-foot-something of masculine beauty, with powerful shoulders, sexy arms, and eyes more intense than a hurricane. Ethan was hot…but notthishot. “Oh fuck…” My eyes admired his chest then slowly moved down, counting all the muscles there, all eight of them.
He came at me and lifted me by the ass, putting me on the kitchen counter so he could stand between my knees. He tugged me toward him so his lips could catch mine. His kiss was hard like the rest of him, demanding and violent.
Exactly how I liked it.
My arms circled his neck, and my fingers felt his short strands. My tits were against his chest, but my clothing concealed my skin from him. I hadn’t inherited my father’s height, so this man was much taller than me, by over a foot, maybe almost two, so sitting on the counter gave me the opportunity to kiss him without craning my neck.
He took my mouth with desperation, biting my bottom lip before turning his head slightly to land another purposeful kiss on my lips. He set the pace, his hand sliding deep into my hair as he positioned my face the way he wanted. He knew what he wanted and took it from me, his fingers fisting my hair possessively.
My thighs squeezed his hips as my fingers explored his shoulders, feeling the separation of muscle with the lines of strength. I touched his arms too, moaning into his mouth when I felt the cords on top of the muscles.
He gripped my shirt and yanked it over my head, exposing my lacy white bra underneath. Without breaking our kiss, he reached my spine and snapped it open like he’d done it a hundred times. The lace bra dropped into my lap, and his big hands gripped both of my tits with such force it actually hurt. He didn’t treat me like a delicate piece of china that could break. He treated me like the steel of a sword, a weapon too strong to bend or shatter.
I liked that.
My fingers reached for his pants and got them open, yanking everything over his hips so his cock would come free.
I broke our kiss to look.
His lips immediately moved for my neck, kissing me as he trailed them toward my ear.
He exceeded my expectations—by a long shot.
“You like what you see, baby?”
My arm hooked around his neck as my lips found his again. “Fuck yes.”
“Wait until you feel it.” He scooped me off the counter and carried me to the couch in front of the fire. His pants were around his thighs, but that didn’t impede his stride. He dropped me in the corner and kicked off his boots and pants until he was naked, his long legs chiseled and strong, covered in swirls of dark hair. His dick was groomed, like he expected people to look at it often.
I’d had a lot of good sex in my life, but I knew this would be the best.
