by Anna Paige
Once my yoga pants were no longer an obstacle, he repositioned himself between my legs and tugged me against him.
“Mmm…” I put my hands on the edge of the counter and pulled myself toward him, loving the friction now that at least one barrier had been removed. His jeans needed to go, too, but I didn’t have the vocal capacity to suggest it just then. All I could do was bite my lip and try not to cry out as he pressed against me again and again. He had one hand on my hip, the other cupping my breast as he looked down at me with hooded eyes.
“See? Great compromise, right?”
I just nodded, squirming and working myself against him.
“You seem out of breath.” He hooked a thumb in the direction of the fridge. “Should I get you some water or…”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
He quirked a brow and took a step back. “Miss Emily, you should never say ‘don’t you dare’ to someone like me. It goads me into doing exactly the opposite of what you want.”
“Ethan, dammit, that’s mean.” I pouted.
The dog barked behind the closed bedroom door at the sound of his name.
Ethan just grinned. “On the other hand, maybe there’s a compromise to be found here, too. You don’t want me to stop what I was doing, but I feel compelled to because you practically forbade me. How about this?”
With that, he dropped down and locked his mouth over my pussy through my thin panties. My hips bucked at the sensation and he leaned back, smiling. “Another good compromise, yes?”
“Yes.” I nodded, reaching down to shift my panties to one side. “With one minor adjustment.”
His eyes fell on my exposed skin and he nodded. “Yep. Now it’s a great compromise.”
He didn’t waste any time; his mouth was on me in an instant. His tongue found my clit and danced over it so masterfully I nearly cried. He took over holding my panties askew, and I found myself threading both hands into his hair, tugging the soft brown curls.
His free hand dipped between my legs, and one long finger found its way into my opening, sliding in effortlessly. I was slick with arousal, panting and biting my lip to keep from screaming his name.
He licked and nipped me, briefly removing his finger so he could fuck me with his tongue before going back to my clit and plunging two fingers inside me. He curled them upward as he thrust in and out, finding a rhythm that threatened to set my whole body aflame.
I was dimly aware of Dammit scratching at the bedroom door and barking, but I couldn’t focus long enough to care.
When Ethan’s mouth locked over my clit and he began to suck, my hands darted out, trying to brace my body in case I slid off the counter. I ended up sending a glass crashing into the sink but even the sound of it breaking didn’t make either of us stop.
He kept pumping his fingers into me and sucking hard on my clit until I couldn’t help it…I couldn’t hold back anymore.
I screamed his name as my orgasm tore through me. My whole body convulsed and twitched as my core milked his fingers, and my clit throbbed in his mouth.
Somewhere in the living room, my phone rang and almost threw me out of those last delicious moments, but I managed to block out the sound as the last waves of pleasure ebbed, and Ethan began running soft kisses up and down my inner thigh.
“So beautiful,” he muttered over and over, his eyes closing briefly as he pressed his lips to my mound one last time, making me shiver.
I finally managed to get my motor skills back and sat up, pulling him by the neck until my mouth was on his. After a long, deep kiss, I smiled and tugged his shirt over his head, fully revealing his tatted arms for the first time. My eyes skimmed them with interest for a moment before desire won out over curiosity and I reached for the button on his jeans, thumbing it open and working my hand inside. “How about you get up on the counter for a while, and I’ll show you how good I am at…compromising?”
He groaned and pushed his erection into my palm.
“Hey, Emily? You okay in there, hon?” My neighbor, Janice, knocked on my door. “I tried to call but you didn’t answer. I thought I heard a crash and a scream.”
Shit!
Ethan looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Dammit continued to sing the song of his people from the bedroom.
I jumped off the counter and grabbed my pants on my way to answer the door. Ethan scooped his shirt off the floor, slipping down the hall and out of sight, adjusting himself as he went.
Shit. I hope he doesn’t get blue balls before I get rid of her.
I ran my hands over my hair and opened the door a crack, smiling. “Hey! I’m good. Sorry for the noise. I was talking to my mom on the phone, and you know how that gets.” I rolled my eyes like I was frustrated, which I kind of was. “Dammit started barking because I was agitated so I put him in my room. And the glass breaking…well, I threw a glass in the sink too hard while arguing with her, so. Yeah. That’s been my night.”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “I know the feeling. My mother pisses me off to no end, too.” Her eyes darted over my shoulder, peeking inside. “You sure you’re okay, though? I can stay if you need to vent.”
“Thanks, girl. I appreciate it, but I think I’m just gonna clean up the glass and head to bed. It’s tiring talking to that woman.”
She snorted. “Sucks the life right out of you, doesn’t it?”
“That it does.” I smiled politely.
She gave me one last look and nodded. “Okay, doll. Call if you change your mind. And tell Dammit I’ll see him Monday for his mid-morning walk. I got some great new doggy snacks. They’re organic, vegan, and gluten-free.”
“Yum, he’ll love that.” Poor Dammit.
“Good night.” She waved as she headed for the elevator.
“Night, Janice. Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Anytime.”
I closed the door and caught sight of Ethan making his way into the living room behind me, laughing. “Never mind putting the dog in solitary confinement; those treats will be punishment enough.”
I just shook my head. “Does that mean you want me to let him out?”
He glanced in that direction as he dropped his shirt back onto the floor and motioned for me to do the same. “Maybe later. Right now, we have more compromising to do.”
Poor Dammit.
We should have given him a harmonica.
He was going to be in doggy jail for a long time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ethan
For fuck’s sake…
“Let it ring.” I growled low in my throat as Emily kissed her way down my chest. She made a muffled sound of agreement and flicked her tongue over each of my abs in succession as she slowly dropped to her knees before me.
Her ringtone droned on, forcing its way into the moment.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t so distinctive.
It was the melody that played whenever the Wicked Witch made an appearance in The Wizard of Oz.
There had to be a story behind that.
It finally stopped just as Emily was reaching my lower abdomen, just inches from my painfully hard cock. Her breath skittered across my belly, and the muscles fluttered involuntarily, making her laugh.
It was such a pure sound, her laughter.
At least for a moment.
Then it was drowned out by that same damn ringtone.
Dammit started barking from the bedroom.
The phone kept ringing.
And ringing.
Emily, now on her knees, leaned forward to rest her forehead on my stomach. “Goddammit.”
Her mouth was right there. So close. Yet so damn far.
“They’re persistent, whoever they are.” I blew out a breath and ran a hand over her hair.
“It’s my fault. I talked her up.”
“Who?”
“Mother.” She said the word like a curse, one vastly more offensive than any f-bomb ever uttered.
It was made insanely creepy by the fact that Dammit chose that exact moment to shift from barking to howling—a mournful sound that reminded me of cemetery scenes in horror films.
Emily sighed and grabbed my waist with both hands, using her grip on me as leverage to get back to her feet. The phone stopped ringing again, and we both waited, eyes locked as we mentally counted the seconds until…
Yep, there it was again.
Son of a bitch.
She gripped the back of my neck and pulled my mouth down to hers. “I’m so sorry. Give me a minute to get rid of her, or she’ll be calling the neighbors to come check on me.”
I gave her a confused look. “That’s kind of sweet. Inconvenient right now, but still. Are you sure it’s your mother we’re talking about?”
She spoke over her shoulder as she trudged across the floor like she was about to face a firing squad. “Oh, she wouldn’t do it out of concern. She does stuff like that because she refuses to be ignored.”
She lifted the phone and took a deep, fortifying breath. “Next time, we hang out at your place.” Her thumb swiped the screen and she grimaced. “Hello, Mother.”
I walked back to the kitchen to get something to drink and give her privacy as she paced the living room.
It was almost funny how things had unfolded. In one night, I’d been cock-blocked by the damn dog, the downstairs neighbor, and now the mother.
My balls were starting to ache. I’d been waiting weeks for this moment, and now I wondered if we’d ever get to finish what we started. These last few weeks of texts that occasionally bordered on indecent and incredibly friendly Skype conversations…I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it.
I drank half a bottle of water and set it down on the counter.
Thinking of her in that exact spot, whimpering and screaming, pushing herself against me while I devoured her pussy—my God, she came so hard for me.
As soon as she was off that phone, I was taking her. That was it. No more interruptions. I didn’t care if the fucking Pope showed up at the door; he’d see me pounding balls deep, either in her pussy or down her throat. And I wasn’t stopping for anyone or anything. Period. I’d made up my mind.
To hell with pacing myself.
Willpower be damned.
I wanted her, and I’d have her as soon as she hung up that fucking phone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Emily
“I just don’t understand why I had to hear it—weeks later, I might add—from someone at the club. Do you know how embarrassed I was when Alistair realized I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about? How do you think that made me look? The mother not knowing a thing about her daughter’s life?”
I rolled my eyes, wishing she could see me because it pissed her off every time I did it. She was clearly putting on a show for whomever was nearby.
It made you look like exactly the type of mother you are. Don’t blame me because your socialite friends are looking down their noses at you. You didn’t know about the exhibition because the only time we talk is when you have something to condemn me about. You didn’t know because you didn’t care enough to call and every time I call you, I end up talking to your voicemail and never hearing back. But mostly, you didn’t know because we just don’t have that kind of relationship, Mother.
I didn’t say any of that, though, refusing to give her the satisfaction of knowing she riled me. “I left you a voicemail weeks before the show.”
She sniffed, undeterred. “You should have tried again. I’m mortified, absolutely mortified. I’m probably the talk of the town by now.”
I’m pretty sure you already were.
Again, I ignored my inner voice. “You are not. They have better things to think about than the state of our relationship.” I nearly gagged on the word. “If anyone brings it up, blame me.”
I’m sure you already did anyway.
“Fine. Just don’t let this happen again. Send an email next time, something I can refer back to and mark my calendar.”
Sure, I’ll get right on that.
“Will do.”
She huffed. “I’ve got to go. I scheduled a deep-tissue massage to work this tension out. I should send you the bill.”
You’d be better off lighting it on fire and stuffing it up your own ass to save me the effort of doing it for you.
“Nice talking to you, Mother.” I gritted out. “Happy holidays. Hope Santa brings you everything you asked for.”
Though everything you deserve would be funnier.
It was deliberate, my mentioning the holidays, but I couldn’t help it. It was always fun to make her squirm, like she was worried I’d expect her to want to spend them with me.
“Um, thank you, Emily. You too.”
“If you’d like to drop by—”
She hung up.
I couldn’t hold back my bark of laughter, even as a little part of me wept at being rejected yet again. That part of me—the optimistic little girl—was much less vocal than she once was but she was still there.
Still hoping.
Still hurting.
And still better off without a mother like that.
I started for the kitchen, where I assumed I’d find Ethan, but when I reached the hallway, I found him sitting cross-legged on the floor outside my bedroom door, shoving bits of food under it and quietly talking to Dammit.
“You’re not going to bite me anymore, right? We’re buds again. Acceptance of these treats—okay, they’re soup crackers but still—constitutes an agreement that I won’t tackle Emily anymore, at least not in front of you, and you agree to keep your teeth out of my ass. Deal?”
There was whimpering from the other side of the door.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He slid the last cracker under the door, quickly withdrawing his fingers in case Dammit was conning him.
“Hey, you trying to buy off my dog with oyster crackers?”
Ethan looked up at me with a hungry gaze. “Just coming to an agreement so this doesn’t keep happening. I don’t want to get bitten every time I touch you, and I’m sure Dammit doesn’t like dog jail, either. Compromise, Emily. Everything is about compromise.”
I felt myself blushing as he looked me up and down. “Weren’t we in the middle of our own compromise before we were so rudely interrupted—again?” I walked over and reached out to help him to his feet.
To my surprise, he twisted and stood, throwing me over his shoulder as he did. “Yes, we were. And the negotiations will continue…in your bedroom.” With that, he threw the door open and Dammit came rushing out, tail wagging as he chuffed out a happy greeting.
Ethan spun and addressed our furry inmate. “You’re free, little guy. We need the room, though, so you’ll have to entertain yourself for a while.”
Dammit barked, and I couldn’t see him, but I knew from the tone that it was a playful one.
The door clicked closed a moment later, and before I could get my bearings, Ethan tossed me onto the bed. My legs hung over the side, and he moved to stand between them, his jeans still partially unzipped and unbuttoned. “You remember how we’re supposed to be pacing ourselves? Drawing it out and making it last?”
“Yes,” I muttered, my tongue sweeping across my lips as I pictured taking him in my mouth.
“New plan.” He jerked his zipper the rest of the way down and shoved his boxer briefs lower, revealing his thick, rigid cock to me. “I want in you, Emily. Right now. I want to pound so deep you scream, and this time, I’m not muffling the sound. We’re on the fifth floor, and I want the motherfuckers in the lobby to hear how good I’m fucking you.”
“Ethan…” I sat up slightly and removed my bra as he reached for my panties. Both went flying across the room in opposite directions a second later. I was still thinking about how good he’d taste, though, so I flicked a look from his eyes to his dick, my tongue making a slow pass across my lower lip. “I thought maybe you’d like me to—”
“La
ter. We have all night to play.” He tore open the condom he’d pulled from his jeans pocket and rolled it on, then reached out with one hand to cup my pussy. One finger dipped briefly inside me and then swirled around my clit. “You’re still so wet.”
“You’re still so hard…” I laid back and drew up my legs, letting my knees fall wide so he could see all of me.
Still standing beside the bed, he reached out and gripped my thighs, pulling me so that my ass was hanging partially off the bed. He lifted my legs until my ankles rested on his shoulders and lined himself up at my opening.
He teased me with his cock for a while, rubbing it up and down my slit until I squirmed. I gave him a pleading look, and he held my gaze as he finally—finally!—pushed into me.
None of that patient, one-inch-at-a-time stuff. He slid all the way in with one long, hard thrust and held it there, so deep I gasped.
He was long and deliciously thick, stretching me almost to the point of pain. I realized I’d been wrong about him being all the way in when he ground his hips into me and gained another inch or two.
“Fuck.” He hissed in a breath between clenched teeth, his hands wrapped around my thighs as he held me tight against him. His eyes never left mine as he began to move, slower at first, until I started giving him signals that I wanted more.
Or maybe it was because I was moaning, “Harder, Ethan. Faster. Make me scream so loud they hear it in Jersey.”
His grip on my thighs was so tight I knew I’d have bruises, but I didn’t care. He pulled my lower body up off the bed to meet his thrusts more squarely, pounding so deep that I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming.
Not yet. Soon, but not yet.
It was all so much: the feel of his body against mine, his cock driving hard and deep inside me, the soft grunts he let out every so often that let me know just how good I felt to him. But more intense than any of that was the way he was looking at me, watching as I panted and squirmed and met his thrusts with my own.
He held my gaze like it was a lifeline, like if I closed my eyes—for even a moment—he would lose something invaluable.
