by Elise Faber
Still.
Dani could go so perfectly still. Like a beautiful statue rather than a living, breathing woman. Of course, she was a statue with a stare that bored into him. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, brushing the backs of his knuckles over her throat.
She unfroze, her hands coming to his cheeks, a blip of pain trailing across her face. It was gone in an instant, and then her mouth was back on his.
“Charmer,” she whispered.
“Truth,” he whispered back.
Chapter Nineteen
Dani
Truth.
He’d just whispered the word like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Even though it wasn’t true, couldn’t be true.
Despite the progress she’d made, she knew she wasn’t beautiful, and most of the time she certainly didn’t feel beautiful on the inside or the out. She was just Dani, just a woman, who’d been so fucking lonely and scared and filled with shards of broken glass and twisted memories that she hadn’t been living—
She was half-naked, and Ethan was holding her.
She’d gone on a date, had talked to him like a woman talked to a man, hadn’t panicked—or not much anyway.
And perhaps it wouldn’t seem like a lot to other people, perhaps it was the smallest baby step to the outside world. But to her . . .
She’d taken a giant leap forward.
So she was going to damned well go with that.
She brushed her tongue along the seam of his mouth, dipping it inside when he parted his lips, tangling it with his. His groan sent tingles through her nerves, dipped down between her thighs.
He rolled them again, pressing her down into the mattress, his body heavy and hard. His hand slid down her side, cupping her hip, slipping beneath her leggings to take one globe of her ass in his rough palm. The hot brand had her gasping, her pelvis tilting, wanting him closer, even though he was wearing far too many clothes.
He was wearing one item of clothing.
It was still too many.
Speaking of which, she shoved down her leggings, their limbs tangling as she kicked them off her feet, as she shimmied her panties down behind them. And since his chest was right there, she took the opportunity to kiss it.
His skin tasted of sunshine and the gentle, cool breeze that gathered on one’s skin just before the sun started to set.
Lower and lower.
Until his chest existed only for her gaze and mouth, until he halted her explorations before she could taste every inch of him like she desired. Capturing her hands in one of his, he brought them up to his mouth, kissed the back of them, dragged his teeth along the sensitive insides of her wrists.
She shivered, flexed against his grip. “I want to touch.”
“And I don’t want to come in my underwear,” he countered, lips moving up her forearm, light kisses along the way until he made it to the inside of her elbow, and fuck her if that spot didn’t seem to have a direct line connecting straight to her pussy.
A shudder wracked her frame before she could tease him about his threats of prematurity. “You could come in me,” she said breathlessly, as he continued kissing up her arm and then down her chest, drifting closer and closer to the hard buds of her nipples.
He froze, groaned, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Killing me, sweetheart.”
“I’m the naked one,” she said.
“Exactly,” he said. “And I’m the one without a condom. So, I’ll say again”—his finger trailed down her chest—“killing. Me.”
“Is that all?”
He sputtered, and her amusement was a joyful, buoyant thing, setting her heart fluttering, her lips twitching. “Is—”
She nudged him back, sliding from the bed.
Somehow, she didn’t feel self-conscious striding over to her purse, where it had fallen when she’d gone all cavewoman by the door, unzipping it and pulling out her emergency toiletry kit. Probably because when she glanced over her shoulder, it was to see his hot gaze on her, desire evident on his face. No derision. No disgust.
Just wanton need.
And she suddenly wasn’t shy.
It was like all the heavy, gaudy varnish on a piece of furniture was sanded off, the beautiful grain of the wood below finally visible.
She was . . . finally herself.
“You’re doing makeup at a time like this?” Ethan asked, his tone light, making her realize that she’d been acting like a statue again, bag open in one hand, a tube of lipstick in the other.
She tossed the latter aside, clenched the bag in her hand. “It’s your fault,” she muttered, climbing onto the bed next to him.
He was lying there like a tasty morsel she wanted to taste every inch of.
“What’s my fault?”
“You’re too fucking attractive.” More muttering, though this time it was accompanied by her rustling through the contents of her bag. “Too damned distracting.”
“I’ll circle back to your need for my sexy body in a moment.” He sat up, trailed his fingers along her shoulder. “For now, tell me what you’re looking for.”
“I’m . . . looking . . . for . . . ah-ha!” Her fingers closed around the plastic square, she pulled it out with a flourish and held out the condom. “This!”
His lips turned up. His eyes went even hotter. “You’re a fucking goddess.”
More joy bubbling inside her. So much that her face actually hurt from smiling so wide. “This, I know,” she said lightly, thinking that in this moment, in this bed, with this man, she really could be a goddess, could go after what she wanted and not be a fucking coward. “I’m—”
His mouth found hers for a kiss that stole her breath, had her melting down to the mattress, him coming on top of her.
“You taste like temptation,” he murmured, kissing his way back down her chest. “And the woman who has captured my soul.” Those words bounced around her chest, bringing pleasure in their wake. Love and need and desire all wound together, lifting her higher than she ever thought possible. His lips dragging over her skin as she basked in that, his heated, damp mouth a fraction of an inch from her nipple.
“I—” His head lowered. “Oh, God—”
She groaned, lost her train of thought for long minutes as he lavished her breasts with attention, before slowly drifting lower. Her hands found his hair, stalling his downward progress when she found a particularly sensitive spot.
He obliged her unspoken request, stroking and kissing, nipping and tracing the area beneath her ribs, delving into her belly button, using his tongue and lips to create patterns on her skin that had her nerves prickling, her temperature rising. Fingers and mouth along the curve of her stomach, over her hip bones, drifting down between her thighs, coaxing them apart and settling his shoulders between them.
And then he paused, hot breath on her pussy, hands beneath her ass. “Yes?” he asked, his voice a rasp that made her nipples bead tightly, her toes curl against the mattress.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Thank fuck,” he said, the curse against her labia, vibrating through her, gathering slick heat in her center, taking her dangerously close to an orgasm even before his tongue traced through her folds.
That single slide through her pussy was the best sensation of her life.
One that was quickly eclipsed by the next, and then the next, and then the next, desire pooling, need spiraling higher as he ground his mouth against her and set about wringing every drop of pleasure from her body. Her head fell back, her hips bucked against his lips, moans tumbling from her mouth one after another.
That beard . . .
Fuck, it was everything.
Sensitizing her nerve endings, ramping her pleasure. She gripped his head, held him tight, and just hung on for the ride.
And what an incredible ride it was. She was shooting through the sky like a rocket taking off. Not a gentle slope to that precipice. It was straight the fuck up, and her engines were firing on all f
ucking cylinders until . . .
Boom.
Explosion.
It began at her clit, his mouth latched tight, his tongue flicking rapidly against the bundle of nerves. Then that wave of pleasure spread like a tsunami, flowing through her folds, clenching tight against the finger he’d pushed deep, was curling up against her g-spot. Every muscle in her body went taut for one brief moment and then lax as bliss flowed through her.
“Fuck,” she whispered, going limp against the mattress. “Fucking hell.”
Ethan prowled up her body, gathered her into his arms, one palm smoothing her hair back. “Fuck, is right,” he murmured, his mouth moving to her ear, nipping lightly at the lobe, his words making her shiver. “Fucking hell, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever been given the privilege to lay eyes on.”
Gravel in his voice, whispering over her skin, fanning the fires between her thighs. She rolled them, pushing him back to the bed, leaning down and slanting her mouth across his.
The sleek dart of his tongue, the soft sting of his teeth against her bottom lip, his kiss was sustenance and torture. Her lungs screamed for oxygen, but she could get enough air by kissing her way across his chest, sucking it in through her nose as she laved the divot of his throat, used her teeth lightly at his nipples. His muscles grew harder with each inch of skin she paid homage to, until he felt as hard as granite beneath her.
She kissed her way down, lower and lower until . . .
“There you are, gorgeous,” she murmured.
His cock was pressed against the front of his boxer briefs, its glistening head just barely poking out the top, and she gave in to the urge to taste that moisture, flicking her tongue out to lap up the salty drop.
The brackish flavor had barely hit her taste buds before she found herself on her back, Ethan on top of her. His color was high, his hair tumbled, his beard slightly askew, but it was the way he was looking at her that had her thighs clenching around his.
Slowly, his hand slid up her side, the rough callouses on his palm making her squirm, especially when he trailed it in, pausing right below her breast.
“Eth,” she murmured, trying to shift so that it would move just a few inches higher.
He smiled, but there wasn’t anything amused about it.
She felt like the seal swimming frantically for shore, a Great White circling beneath, readying to strike.
If his cock brought her as much pleasure as his mouth had earlier, she was in very good hands . . . penises? Teeth? Tongue? Hands again? All of the above. Ha.
That desire tempered, his smile softening. “What?” he murmured, tracing the edge of her mouth with his thumb. She realized her amusement must have bled over into a smirk.
“I was thinking I was in good hands”—her gaze dropped—“or cocks.”
That cock in question twitched against her. “As in plural?”
She swatted at him. “You know what I mean.” Then arched a brow. “Unless you keeping your underwear on means you have something you need to tell me?”
He shoved his boxers down, his cock springing forth. “Nothing to fear on that front.”
She clamped a hand to her chest, feigned swooning. “Well, thank God for that.”
“Thank God for your tits and the way they jiggle when you do that.”
“Thank God,” she countered, loving his expression—the open need, the desperate desire sharpening the edges of his face—as she reached for his cock, stroking a finger over the velvety head. “For your single penis. Because I need it inside me.”
He cursed, using far more creative language than she’d anticipated.
“Wow,” she breathed.
His lips found a spot behind her ear, one so sensitive that she felt her pussy clench. “Wow, what?”
She turned her head, halted with her mouth a hairsbreadth from his. “I like it when you talk dirty to me.” A hand sliding down his stomach. “Remember how you asked me if I always stroke things so carefully?” Her fingers wrapped around him, squeezed. “I promise, I do.”
Another curse, Ethan letting his weight come down on top of her, trapping her hand between them. Not that she minded, especially considering she had it wrapped around his cock.
“I don’t think you’re shy at all,” he murmured, lips finding her throat and sucking deeply.
“I don’t feel sh-shy,” she said, the fingers of her other hand drifting up his spine, slipping into the short locks, gripping tight. “With you, I feel like I can just be Dani.”
Motionless.
He took a turn to play statue and froze on top of her.
For just a single heartbeat. Then his mouth was on hers, and she was being devoured again, that strong, powerful shark threatening to swallow her whole. His hands were on her ass, her hips, her breasts, cupping her cheek so he could kiss her deeper and harder and—
He pulled back, one hand flat on the bed next to her face, the other on her jaw. “That is the sexiest thing you could have ever said to me.”
“Eth—”
Another kiss that stole her breath, only this time she was ready for the intense, demanding man on top of her. She kissed him back, glad when he lifted up enough so she could use her formerly trapped hand to fondle his cock. He groaned into her mouth, hips jerking forward.
“I should probably warn you that it’s been a while,” he said, another groan tumbling from his lips as she showed him how well she could stroke.
“Then get inside me and make it less of a while.”
He swallowed. “Dani,” he growled. “I’m trying to make this good for you.”
“I don’t need good”—not strictly true, but she needed this man inside her, and if his oral skills were any indication, she already knew it would be fan-fucking-tastic, so he didn’t have anything to worry about—“I just need you.”
“We don’t have to rush,” he said, and every syllable was strained.
But seriously, the man didn’t look like he could spend all day like this, teasing and coaxing their pleasure higher and higher. He looked ready to explode. And she wanted that explosion inside her.
“Inside me,” she whispered, aloud this time.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he gritted. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, his chin dropped to his chest, lungs sawing in and out. His palm fell from her cheek, dropping to the bed beside her head, the tendons and muscles on his forearms taut and pressing against skin.
Fuck, what was it about men’s forearms that were so fucking sexy?
She rotated her head to the side, keeping her hand on the hard length of his erection, pumping up and down, but giving in to the urge that had filled her at the sight of his strength by sinking her teeth into the muscles, not firmly enough to hurt, but enough that she could taste the salt and spice of his skin, feel the power of those arms in her mouth.
He jerked, more curses tumbling from his mouth.
And a second later, her hand was tugged from his cock, and he was grabbing the condom she’d retrieved.
She wanted to roll it down the length of him, but he was too quick, tearing into the corner of the plastic square with his teeth, yanking the condom out, and covering his cock with it in the next moment.
Then he knelt between her thighs and paused with his erection . . . so . . . fucking . . . close.
“Are you su—”
She gripped his ass, tugging down while at the same time jerking up, and that first stretch of him filling her was the best pleasure-pain of her existence. It had been a long time for her, too, and no one had ever felt like Ethan. Wide and beyond hard, pressing deep, spreading her thighs wide as he stroked his way all . . . the . . . way . . . home.
“Fuck,” she said on an exhale.
That was . . .
“Incredible,” he murmured, dropping to his elbows, his mouth finding hers for a scorching kiss as he pumped deep and slow and steady. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said when their lips fell apart, when she arched back, her neck straining, pleasure coiling, her hips
rising to meet his in a rhythm that was set to send her straight into her first-ever double orgasm.
“Ethan,” she whispered when he hit something, some place really, really good. “Baby, I—”
His eyes locked onto hers, staring deeply, seeming to read into the urgency in her tone because he kept moving in that inexorable way, with firm, sure strokes, only they grew faster and harder, and she felt sweat bead on her skin, her lips tingle, her muscles grow tight as the ache inside her grew and expanded. Her breathing sped, that edge was right there, and then . . . he slipped a hand between them, lightly caressed that bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.
And . . .
She exploded.
Fuck, that was good.
But good grew as Ethan sped up, hips pistoning, thrusting deeper, a growl bubbling up in his throat, every time he bottomed out, her orgasm flared anew, fresh sparks of pleasure scattering through her, shooting stars of sensation until he groaned her name, thrust once, twice more, and—
Collapsed on top of her.
He was heavy, making it hard for her to breathe, but she didn’t mind, actually liked the feel of him surrounding her, pressing her into the mattress. She loved the fact that he’d lost it so much that he was unaware, especially when he’d been careful the whole time with his strength. There was something so incredibly sexy in him not being in control.
“Sorry,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her and rolling them so she was sprawled across his chest.
She was feeling too relaxed to summon any words. Instead, she just nuzzled into his embrace, smiling when he tugged the blanket up and over them.
“You okay?” he murmured sometime later.
Her eyes were sliding closed, sleep threatening to take her under, and she must have managed some sort of reply because he chuckled as the blankets crept higher. Distantly, she was aware of the bed shifting, of Ethan walking to the bathroom to deal with the condom.
