Chapter Twenty One
Always Yours
Ethan
H er whispered “yes” echoes in my mind, a match igniting a flame. I've wanted this again for years. Her eyes are wide and dark, her lips parted as she watches me like I’m the only thing in the world she can see. And damn, I feel the same way.
The moment stretches, heavy with anticipation, and I let my hands glide over her thighs, savoring the softness of her skin. My fingers press into the curves of her hips, grounding me, keeping me steady when every part of me wants to lose control.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, my voice rough as my gaze roams over her. She’s laid out beneath me, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, her hair spread across the pillow like a halo.
Her lips part, but no words come out, just a soft, needy sound that sends a rush of heat straight to my cock, making it impossibly harder. So hard it’s aching with the need to be inside her.
I lower myself over her, my forearms bracing on either side of her head as my lips find hers. The kiss is slow, deliberate, a contrast to the storm raging inside me. I want her to feel every ounce of what I’ve been holding onto, every moment of longing and regret, every promise I’m making with my touch.
Her hands slide over my shoulders, her nails grazing my skin as her legs shift, wrapping around my waist. The movement pulls a groan from deep in my chest, and I can’t help but press my hips against hers, letting her feel just how much I need her.
“Fuck me,” the sound falls from her lips, a soft, desperate plea that nearly undoes me.
“Shh, baby,” I whisper, brushing kisses along her jawline, down the column of her neck. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”
My lips move across her jaw, finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, and I suck gently, reveling in the way her body arches into mine. Her nails dig into my back, her breaths coming in soft gasps as I work my way down her neck, worshipping every inch of it with my mouth.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her skin, my voice rough with possession. “Every fucking inch of you, Emma. Do you know how long I’ve wanted this? How many nights I’ve dreamed about touching you like this, tasting you like this?” My hands smoothing across her skin.
She shudders beneath me, her hands tangling in my hair as her hips shift restlessly. “Ethan, please,” she breathes, her voice trembling.
“Please what, baby?” I murmur, my lips brushing against her collarbone. “Tell me what you want. Tell me how you need me.”
Her head falls back against the pillow, her eyes squeezing shut as her body trembles beneath mine. “I need you,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I need this!” As she says this she reaches between us stroking my cock.
Those words and her hand is stroking my cock are my undoing.
I slide my hand down her side, gripping her hip as I press my body fully against hers. The heat of her, the way her body fits perfectly against mine, drives me to the edge. My lips find hers again, claiming her in a kiss that’s as desperate as it is consuming.
“Say it again,” I murmur against her lips, my hand covering hers as together we guide me to her entrance. The slick heat of her makes me groan, and I pause, needing to hear it one more time.
“I want you,” she says, her voice trembling but sure. “Every part of you, Ethan. Please, don’t make me wait any longer. ”
That’s all the permission I need.
Her words ignite something primal inside me, a surge of heat and hunger I can’t control, don’t want to control. I press my forehead to hers, my breath mingling with hers as I push into her slowly, savoring every second. The tight, wet heat of her wraps around me, and a guttural groan escapes my lips. Her eyes close of their own volition and her face is pure ecstasy.
“Fuck, Emma,” I rasp, my voice thick with a mix of pleasure and awe. “You feel… so goddamn good.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders, her back arching as she takes me in, her breath hitching in soft, uneven gasps. Her eyes flutter open, locking onto mine, and the emotion I see there—vulnerability, desire, trust—nearly undoes me.
I pause, giving her a moment to adjust, my hand sliding up to cradle her face. “Are you okay?” I whisper, my voice gentler now, my thumb brushing against her cheek.
She nods, her lips parting as she whispers, “More than okay.”
Her words loosen the last threads of my restraint. I pull back slowly, almost completely, before thrusting back in, a deliberate and hard movement that has us both gasping. The way her body grips me, the way she moves with me—it’s like we’ve done this a thousand times, and yet it feels brand new .
“You’re so perfect,” I murmur, my lips finding hers in a kiss that’s slow and deep, a stark contrast to the intensity building between us. “You were made for me, Emma.”
Her hands move to my back, her nails raking lightly against my skin as her hips lift to meet mine. “Ethan,” she breathes, her voice trembling. “Please, I need—”
“I know,” I cut her off, my voice low and rough as I pick up the pace, each thrust deeper, harder, more purposeful. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve always got you.”
Her body arches beneath me, her head falling back as a moan escapes her lips, and I take the opportunity to press kisses down her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. The sound of her, the way she says my name like a prayer, like a plea—it pushes me closer to the edge.
“Look at me,” I command softly, my hand slipping beneath her thigh to hitch her leg higher around my waist. “I want to see your face when you come around my cock.”
Her eyes meet mine, wide and glassy with pleasure, and it’s almost too much. Her body tightens around me, and I know she’s close, her breaths coming in short, frantic bursts as she clings to me.
“That’s it,” I murmur, my voice low and coaxing. “Let go for me, Emma. Let me feel you.”
With one more thrust, she falls apart, her body trembling beneath mine as her climax washes over her. She cries out, her nails digging into my back, her thighs gripping my hips as waves of pleasure ripple through her.
The sight, the sound, the feel of her—pushes me over the edge. My rhythm falters as I bury myself deep, groaning her name as I spill into her, every muscle in my body taut with the intensity of my release. It’s overwhelming and grounding all at once, like finding something I didn’t know I’d lost.
We stay this way for a moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths mingling as we come down from the high. The fiery urgency between us shifts, cooling into something deeper, more profound. The way she fits against me isn’t about possession—it’s something deeper, something safe, each slow breath between us a promise neither of us can bring ourselves to say. I brush the damp hair from her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.
“I told you,” I murmur against her lips, my voice hoarse but sure. “You’re mine, Emma. Always.”
I shift slightly, careful not to crush her beneath my weight, but I can’t bring myself to let her go. My arms remain wrapped around her, her body fitting perfectly against mine as we lie tangled together. Her breathing is still uneven, her chest rising and falling against me, and the flush across her cheeks makes her look utterly irresistible .
Her fingers glide lightly along my arm, and I watch her with a mixture of satisfaction and tenderness, my hand brushing slow circles along her back. For a while, the only sound is the steady rhythm of our breaths, the quiet hum of the world outside muted by the moment we’ve created.
She looks up at me, her eyes soft, her lips slightly swollen from our kisses. “That was…” She trails off, her voice catching, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “That was surreal.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “Yeah?” I murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “Good. Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”
Her laugh is soft, breathy, and it’s like a balm to every jagged edge inside me. “You’re insatiable,” she teases, her voice still a little shaky but tinged with amusement.
“Only for you,” I reply, my tone playful but laced with truth. I run my fingers along her side, tracing the curve of her waist, and her breath hitches slightly. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. For you.”
Her expression softens, and she reaches up, her fingers brushing against my cheek. “You have me now,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the emotion behind her words.
Something in her tone, in the way she looks at me, makes my chest tighten. I lean down, capturing her lips in a slow, sinful kiss, pouring every unspoken feeling into the connection. When I pull back, I rest my forehead against hers, my voice dropping to a low murmur.
“I’m not letting you go again, Emma. Not ever.”
Her hand curls against my chest, and she nods, her eyes glistening. “Good,” she whispers. “Because I don’t think I’d survive if you did.”
The honesty in her words, the vulnerability, steals my breath. I press another kiss to her lips, softer this time, before shifting onto my side and pulling her with me. Her body molds against mine, and I tuck her under my chin, holding her close as the weight of the moment settles over us.
We stay tangled together, the world outside slipping away. It’s just us, just this, and for the first time in years, I feel a sense of belonging I haven’t known in a long time.
As we lie tangled together, her presence grounds me and I let my fingers trace idle patterns along her spine. The quiet intimacy between us feels heavier, richer than the fiery urgency from earlier. Her fingers graze my chest, leaving a path of warmth in their wake, sending a shiver through me. I tilt my head down to catch her gaze, and the way she looks at me—soft, unguarded, hers—nearly undoes me all over again.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?” I murmur, my voice rougher than I intend. “You’ve been in my head and under my skin, since the day I met you. And seeing you again—it’s like nothing else even exists, Emma.”
Her lips part slightly, her brows drawing together as if my words are too much. But then she smiles, faint and radiant, and it’s like the room gets a little brighter. “It goes both ways,” she whispers, her fingers stilling against my skin. “You’ve been in my head for years, Ethan. And my heart.”
The weight of her admission sits heavy between us, not unwelcome but profound. I slide my hand to cup her jaw, my thumb brushing along her cheek. “Good,” I say softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Because you’re not getting rid of me now.”
Her laugh is quiet, more of an exhale, and she nuzzles closer, her body fitting against mine like she belongs there. And she does. She always has.
Her lips press against the base of my neck, soft and lingering, and I can’t help the low sound that escapes me. “You keep doing that,” I warn, my voice dark with playful intent, “and I’m not going to be able to keep things slow.”
Her smile is wicked as she pulls back to meet my eyes. “Who said I want slow?”
Damn. If I thought I couldn’t want her more, she’s just proven me wrong. In one fluid motion, I roll us over, pinning her beneath me as my grin turns wolfish. “Careful what you wish for, baby,” I growl, my lips brushing over hers. “Because I’ve got years of making up to do.”
Her laugh turns into a gasp as I kiss her again, deep and unrelenting. The heat between us reignites, and I know one thing for sure—neither of us is getting any sleep tonight.