Chapter Sixteen
The drive back to Ethan’s house was quiet and cold. Hannah curled in on herself and leaned against the passenger side door, as far away from him as possible. He didn’t understand it. One minute they were talking about a trip to New York—a temporary trip—and the next she was practically dying to go back to the job she’d claimed she wasn’t sure she wanted anymore. Not that he’d expected her to uproot her entire life for him after a few days, but he was having an awfully hard time not seeing her eagerness to return to Manhattan as willingness to leave him behind.
What did you expect? She already told you she didn’t want a relationship.
And even if she did? Could he really expect her to give up her career, her life, for him?
A nasty voice niggled at the back of Ethan’s brain, reminding him he hadn’t even been able to convince the mother of his child to stay with him in Aster Bay. What chance did he have of Hannah—bold, beautiful, celebrity Hannah—wanting him enough to stay?
He pulled his truck into his driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires, and turned it off, scraping his hand over his jaw. It wasn’t her fault he wanted more than she did, that he’d foolishly thought he might be able to convince her to try with him. The things he had to offer, this small town life, could hardly compare with her world in New York. He knew that. And yet…
“I’m sorry,”
he said, his voice gruff as though he hadn’t spoken in ages. “I was an asshole back there.”
She eyed him warily. “Why?”
He dropped his head back against the head rest, closing his eyes. “I don’t like thinking about you leaving.”
He heard her shifting in her seat next to him. “I’m not leaving yet.”
“But you will eventually.”
“You’ll come with me. Unless you’ve changed your mind about going to the premiere.”
He turned to look at her. “Of course I’ll go with you. But that’s a weekend. That’s not real life.”
“Neither is this,” she said.
“To me it is.”
She searched his face, brow crinkled in thought, and then she was climbing into his lap, swinging her leg over his hip and straddling him. He slid his hands up her thighs, the loose fabric of her sundress bunching beneath his hands.
“I like your life,”
she whispered as she ghosted her lips along his jaw.
His heart pounded in his chest, na?ve, reckless hope unfurling itself behind his sternum. He chased her lips with his own, catching them in a soft kiss that only made him want more.
“I like you,”
he said back.
“Yeah?”
Her smile knocked the air from his lungs, the way it lit up her face from within, the sparkle in her eyes. She rocked her hips against him in a slow roll designed to make him lose his mind and his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her thighs through the flimsy material separating his hands from her skin. “I like you.”
He kissed her again, this time in earnest, holding her hips snug against his own with one hand as the other snaked up her back and into her hair. He kissed her as though he could make her want to stay, as though this kiss could be enough.
Her hands slid down his chest, tugging at his shirt, fumbling with his belt buckle. He dragged his lips down her throat, sinking his teeth into the place where her neck met her shoulder. Her hand slid inside the placket of his jeans, curling around the length of him, already hard and desperate for her. She pumped her hand over him slowly, squeezing from root to tip as she stroked him.
“This what you want, city girl? You want me to fuck you in my truck?”
Her eyes flared wide before darkening. Goddamn she was beautiful like this, lust-drunk and needy.
“You need my cock so badly you can’t even wait until we get in the house,”
he purred, skating his hands up her hips, over her waist.
He hooked one strap of her sundress with his finger and dragged it down her arm, revealing the cup of her bra, the creamy swell of her breast in the moonlight slanting through the window beside them. He held her gaze as he pulled the cup down, her breast tumbling free, then dropped his mouth to her, sucking the tight furl of her nipple between his lips as she continued to touch him. She moaned and stroked him faster.
“You wet for me, Han? That pretty pussy of yours ready for my cock?”
“Yes, Ethan,”
she panted.
With her free hand, she lifted the hem of her dress. He took it for the invitation it was and pressed his thumb to her seam through her cotton panties, feeling her wetness already soaking through the fabric.
“I don’t have any condoms on me, sweetheart,”
he said softly, regret lancing through him. “If we go inside—”
“You don’t need one,”
she said, cutting him off.
He tore his eyes away from the sight of her wet panties, holding her gaze as a new fire burned in his chest. He hadn’t been with anyone without protection since the night his daughter was conceived, hadn’t even wanted to, but goddamn did he want to now. The idea of sliding inside Hannah bare, of feeling the wet glide of her, of watching his cum leak out of her when they were through, knowing he’d filled her with it, that part of him was still inside her—fuck, it was too much to hope for.
Hannah’s cheeks flamed bright red. “I mean, if you want…”
“I want,”
he said, thrusting into her fist to punctuate the point. “Jesus Christ, how I want. I just haven’t done that in…a long time.”
“Me either,”
she said. “But I have an IUD and I’ve been tested recently. Everything was negative.”
“Me too.”
He ran his eyes over her, from the wild tangle of her dark hair and the flush running from her cheeks down to her chest, the one uncovered breast bouncing gently, the tip shiny with his saliva, the bunched up fabric of her dress and the thighs spread wide over his hips, the tight grasp of her hand that he knew paled in comparison to the feeling of being inside her. He took the dress in his hands and lifted it over her head, tossing it on the passenger seat and leaving her in only her underwear and bra. She was so fucking beautiful with the moonlight painting her skin.
“Put me inside yourself, sweetheart,”
he grated out as he gripped the base of his cock, angling it towards her.
She hooked the gusset of her panties and pulled them to the side, lifted her hips, and lined herself up with his tip. He curled his free hand around her hips.
“Go slow. I want to watch your pussy stretch open for me,”
he commanded.
She did as he asked, lowering herself so just his crown slid inside her tight, wet heat. He hissed at the clench of her, and released his hold on himself to strum his thumb over her clit. Each pass over the swollen bundle of nerves had her sliding further down, taking him deeper, until he was fully seated. Her mouth fell open on a silent gasp as he hilted himself inside her and he caught her bottom lip between his teeth.
“Come on my cock, Hannah. Use me to make yourself feel good.”
He thrust up into her, their movements small and controlled in the confined space, and continued to stroke her clit as he took her nipple between his teeth.
She clutched his head to her chest, whimpering with each thrust. “God, Ethan, I’m already so close.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Come for me. We’re just getting started. Give me this first one, here, and I promise I’ll fuck you properly when we get inside. You just have to come on my cock first.”
Her inner walls fluttered around him, clenching and grasping, and he pressed his forehead to hers, gritted his teeth to stave off his own orgasm. “That’s right, Han. You can do it. Let me feel this pussy come for me.”
She shook in his arms, her heat clamping down on him as her soft whimpers filled his ears. It took all his self-control not to come, but he wanted to watch her the first time he came inside her. She gasped and collapsed against him, her thighs tensing, and he dropped his hands to stroke over the tired muscles there.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Hannah,”
he groaned, his cock begging for relief.
“I’m hardly perfect,”
she murmured, her lips against his collarbone.
He thrust up into her again and she gasped. “Time to go inside now, sweetheart, and I’ll prove it to you.”
∞∞∞
Hannah reluctantly lifted herself off of Ethan’s still-hard cock, and gathered her dress to hold in front of her chest. It was only a few steps from the truck to the front door and it was pitch dark out—it hardly seemed worth putting the dress back on only to have him take it off her again. Ethan tucked himself back in his pants but didn’t bother doing up the zipper as he followed her up the steps to his house. He pressed himself against her back as he unlocked the door, the thick length of him against her ass.
The door had hardly closed behind them when he spun her around, pressing her against the door, and dropped to his knees. He licked her through the soaked fabric of her underwear, dragging her swollen lips between his teeth.
“Ethan,”
she groaned, “don’t tease me.”
“Can’t get enough of your taste,”
he said, almost to himself. He pulled her underwear down, leaving it in a pool at her feet, and parted her with his thumbs. “You’re going to look so pretty full of my cum.”
She hardly had time to process what he’d said before he plunged his tongue inside her, licking and sucking and driving her fast towards her next orgasm. She came with a cry, her nails scraping against his scalp and her clit pulsing against his tongue.
Her thighs were still shaking when he got to his feet, his beard glistening with her release. “Need to fuck you, sweetheart. You good with that?”
Her core clenched, making her painfully aware of how empty she was. “Yes, please.”
“So polite,”
he chuckled.
He took her hand and led her down the hall to his bedroom. She’d never been in his bedroom before. The door was always closed, and she’d never been invited in. Until now.
She was unprepared for the starkness of the room, the sparse furniture and neutral paint, the lack of decoration on the wall. It wasn’t dissimilar to the hotel rooms they’d spent so many nights in together, and her heart ached for him that his own bedroom was so impersonal.
He kissed her once, hard and fast, pulling her mind back to the moment. His hand dropped to cup her between the legs. “I want to watch this little pussy of yours milk my cock.”
His dirty words in that low, gruff voice—it was so much like the audiobooks she’d listened to him narrate. But this time it wasn’t Slade Hardcastle; it was Ethan. Her Ethan. Her heart pounded and her head spun, though whether it was at the promise of at least one more orgasm or the idea of Ethan as hers, she couldn’t say for certain.
He pulled her in and spun her so her back was pressed to his front and she gasped at the reflection of herself in the floor length mirror on the inside of his open closet door, the faint red of beard burn beginning to blossom on her inner thighs. “Take off your bra, Hannah,”
he commanded, his breath hot on her ear.
Ethan watched her reflection as he removed his own clothing behind her, first the henley with the rolled sleeves, then his jeans, and finally his boxer briefs. His erection pressed against her as she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.
“Look at how perfect you are,”
he said, one hand snaking up over the rounded curve of her belly to close over her breast. “So beautiful.”
Her eyes danced over the silvery slashes of stretch marks on her belly, the cellulite on her thighs, the too small breasts, and landed on the look of adoration in his eyes reflected back at her. He really believed the things he said, that she was beautiful, no qualifiers needed. He didn’t see the years of failed diets and self-loathing, the casting directors who seemed to get a sick sense of satisfaction out of recommending she lose twenty pounds before her next audition, the ways she’s abused her body in the name of a more perfect shape. And watching the way he looked at her, the unbridled lust and something softer, a tenderness or affection she was afraid to look at too closely, she started to believe it, too.
“On the bed, sweetheart,” he said.
She scrambled to comply, scooting across the soft comforter to settle on her back amongst the pillows. He lowered a knee onto the mattress and prowled over to her, his eyes taking in every inch of her, and her knees dropped open of their own accord as he drew closer. He hitched one of her legs over his hip and slid into her easily in a single smooth stroke. The fullness felt like relief, like an inevitability.
He stayed on his knees, his eyes continuing their path over her like a caress, pausing on her lips, her breasts, her hips, before finally landing on the place where they were joined. He sucked in a breath as he watched himself piston in and out of her, the stretch of her body to accommodate his.
“Can I come inside you, Han? Can I fill you up with my cum?”
The idea shouldn’t have been so hot, but lord help her, it was. She wanted everything he could give her, wanted to keep some part of him inside herself even after it was over.
“Yes, do it,”
she cried, “I want to feel it.”
He returned his thumb to her clit, pressing firmly and moving the pad of his finger in agonizingly slow circles as he fucked her. “Play with your tits, sweetheart. Get those nipples hard for me.”
She did as he asked without even thinking, her hands closing over her breasts and plucking at her nipples, each squeeze sending sparks arrowing down to her core. Her thighs shook, her hips lifting off the bed to meet his thrusts, and he shifted his hand higher to press low on her belly. She gasped at the added pressure, heat flying down her spine and burning the soles of her feet as her climax gathered behind her clit and further, deeper inside her.
“That’s it, Han. That’s my girl. You’re gonna come for me again, now, aren’t you?”
She thrashed on the bed, her body rebelling against the idea of another orgasm, her clit sore and swollen and yet still so desperate for relief. “That’s it. This is my pussy now. You come when I want you to, and I want you to, Han. I want you to come again and again, want to watch you come so hard you forget to breathe. I fucking love it. Your orgasms are my favorite thing.”
He lowered his voice, a soothing croon that belied the steady press of his hand on her belly, the deep and thorough way he fucked her, the thick invasion of his cock dragging her closer and closer to another crushing climax. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You can do it. I’ve got you. Gonna make you feel so good, Han. You just gotta come for me.”
She arched off the bed as the orgasm ripped through her, tearing sinew and muscle as it seared through her with the kind of pleasure that was so much like pain. Ethan fucked her through it, roaring her name as he gave in to his own orgasm, his cock kicking inside her with each spurt of his release.
As soon as he was done, he withdrew and dropped to his forearms between her legs, holding her open for his inspection. “Good fucking girl,”
he groaned as he stroked a single finger through her seam. “This might be my new addiction, Hannah.”
“Sex?”
she asked through a punch-drunk chuckle.
“With you,”
he confirmed. “Your pussy dripping with my cum.”
He kissed her thighs, her mound, dropped a feather-light kiss to her clit as he slid his finger inside her, pushing his cum back in. “Fuck, I could get hard again just looking at you.”
“You’re insatiable,”
she said, sleep already pulling at her limbs.
“Can I slide inside you one more time, sweetheart? We can go to sleep, just let me sleep inside you. Want to feel you everywhere.”
She smiled and tangled her fingers with his free hand. “I want to feel you everywhere, too.”
Ethan lay down behind her, pulling her back against his chest and slowly slipping his half-hard cock back inside her. It felt right, to sleep with him as close as two people could possibly be. To be wrapped in his warmth, and to wrap him in hers.