32. Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Two
“ I seem to remember promising to kiss every inch of you,” Ethan murmurs, flicking my nipple with his tongue again. “You left before I ever got the chance.” His hands slide up and down my waist, caressing me into a state of utter arousal as if the lick of my nipple was not enough.
He leans in and brushes his lips over mine. “I never make a promise I don’t keep. Remember that. ”
For reasons I can’t explain, at least not when my mind is numb with pleasure and promise, I think those words are not about sex, at least not wholly, but for now, I only have the capability of processing this moment. My fingers tease the soft, dark strands of his hair, and I whisper, “Never?”
“Never, baby.” His lips brush over mine, my breasts in his hands, the feel of his big, strong body over mine—something I will likely never forget. He makes me feel like a woman—not that I don’t always feel like a woman, but in a way I never imagined possible.
He then proceeds to do exactly what he has promised, and presses his lips to my neck, my shoulder, my nipple. My arm. My belly. “I wonder if you taste as good as you feel.”
My lashes lower, and the heat in my body is almost suffocating, and yet it is the most delicious heat I’ve ever felt in my life. “Look at me, Sofia,” he orders, and he is just so about commands, and I don’t seem to ever care.
Yet it is laborious to comply. My lashes flutter and lift; the punch of energy when I meet his piercing blue stare is what I can only call sensational. And only then does he ease downward, his mouth lingering over the most intimate part of my body, his breath a hot tease over my clit. I arch my back, my breasts thrusting into the air, his tongue licking me, his mouth suckling me.
I’m panting when he drags my leg over his shoulder, and when his fingers enter me, stretching me, exploring me, I’m lost in pleasure, his mouth…his amazing mouth is everything, and I’m not ready for the moment that comes too soon. I tremble all over and lose everything but how damn good it feels.
And then, it’s over.
I collapse, aware of his fingers still inside me, and my cheeks heat with the intensity of my orgasm. He kisses my belly, slides his fingers out of me, and then kisses me with me all over his lips and tongue. “Can you be undressed and inside me now, please?”
“Sorry, baby.” He eases my leg down and wraps the robe around me as if firmly shutting the door on my request. “No condoms. I’m going to have to run to the store.” He sits up.
My eyes go wide, and I sit up, tying my sash. “You don’t have condoms?”
“I wasn’t about to assume we’d end up here and needing a whole box. That was in my head, but that’s how men think. We’re going to fuck all night and need a box of condoms. It feels like a real dick move to be arrogant enough to prepare for it. ”
“Not a dick move. A responsible move.”
He laughs and leans over and kisses me. “You could get on the pill.”
My eyes are wide all over with the implications of his words. “We’ve had two nights together, and you want me to get on the pill?”
“You are going to Paris with me.”
“To live on the other side of the city,” I say before I can stop myself.
His eyes twinkle with understanding. “You’ll see me more than you expect, if I have my way.” He stands up. “Enjoy the dessert. I’ll be back in a few. Or, you can come with me.”
“I’m not going into a store to buy condoms.” I stand up. “But I can stand outside.”
He laughs one of his deep, sexy laughs, and his hands settle on my waist. “I like you, Sofia,” he says softly. “More than I have liked anyone in a very long time.”
Warmth fills me with the sincerely spoken words, and I say, “I like you, far more than I expected to like you after my father called you an arrogant prick.”
“Ouch,” he says. “Are you going to tell him I’m involved in your Moore’s journey?”
“I don’t think that is a good idea. He’s going to worry anyway. Why add to it?”
He snatches up my clothes and offers them to me, his fingers brushing mine, his mood darker now. “Then don’t tell him.”
I have this sense that this actually doesn’t please him, and I’m not sure why. I wet my lips, certain there is a message beneath those words I’m not meant to understand. “Not yet,” I whisper.
Something in him shifts, and the darkness shifts ever so slightly as he adds, “Not yet.” He turns away from me and pulls on his shirt, the flex of muscle enticingly addictive to watch.
I shake myself and turn away from him, dressing shyly with my robe as my guardian. This man is complicated, and so is this path I’m traveling with him, perhaps filled with dangerous obstacles and detours I do not understand. But I will, I think. I know I will. There is far more to Ethan than meets the eye. Of course there is. No man is as successful as he is this young without battle wounds that he has both delivered and received. If I were smart, I would put distance between us, at least until I’m not submissive to his authority over my career.
But as I turn around and face him, I find him close—so very close and so very handsome. He steps into me and says, “What are you doing to me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He kisses me like I have never been kissed before, like a man who cannot live without me, and when it’s over, he slides his finger over my lower lip and says, “You taste like salt floating on an ocean wind.”
I breathe out, unsure what that means, unable to translate the words to his thoughts, and I need to know, almost desperately. “Is that good?”
“I don’t know yet.”