Chapter 13 Ethan #2
She’s so beautiful it hurts. The black dress clings to her curves like a second skin. Her hair is messy from the wind on the terrace. Her chest is heaving.
She is a chaos agent. She is a liability.
And I want her so bad I can taste it.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“Why not?”
“Because if I fire you,” I rasp, “I’ll never see you again. And I don’t think I can survive that.”
Her eyes widen. Her breath catches.
“Ethan,” she breathes.
“I tried,” I say, shaking my head. “I tried to be the good guy. I tried to protect you from us. We’re broken, Tessa. We’re possessive and intense, and we don’t know how to share. Owen thinks he can charm you. Asher thinks he can analyze you. But me?”
I take a step forward, invading her space. I tower over her.
“I don’t want to charm you,” I say darkly. “And I don’t want to analyze you.”
“What do you want?” she whispers.
“I want to consume you.”
I reach out and grab her waist. I pull her flush against me, hard.
She gasps, her hands flying to my chest.
“You slept with Owen,” I say, looking down at her. “Was he gentle? Did he take his time?”
She blushes crimson. “Ethan…”
“Did he fuck you sweet?” I demand, my grip tightening on her hip. “Did he hold your hand?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“I won’t,” I warn her. “I’m not Owen. I’m not nice. If you stay here… if you let me do this… I’m going to ruin you for anyone else.”
“Good,” she says.
She stands on her tiptoes. She wraps her arms around my neck.
My hands clench at my sides. I am vibrating with the effort not to touch her. It’s a physical pain, like a cramp seizing a muscle.
“Ruin me,” she whispers against my mouth.
I snap.
I crash my mouth down on hers.
The kiss is a collision. It’s weeks of rage and lust and denial exploding all at once. I devour her. I bite her lip, forcing it open, and sweep my tongue inside, claiming her mouth like it’s my territory.
She moans, a desperate, needy sound that vibrates in my chest. She presses closer, grinding her hips against my cock.
I groan, grabbing her ass and lifting her up. She wraps her legs around my waist instantly.
I carry her to the desk. My desk. The black marble slab where I sign million-dollar contracts.
I sweep my arm across the surface. Papers, pens, my laptop—everything goes flying. It crashes to the floor with a satisfying clatter.
I slam her down. The edge of the black marble bites into her bare thighs.
“Ethan,” she gasps, her eyes wide.
“Tell me to stop,” I warn her. “Tell me now, or I’m taking you.”
“Take me.”
I step between her legs, pushing her dress up to her waist. She’s wearing black lace panties.
I rip them.
The sound of ripping fabric is loud in the quiet room. Tessa cries out, half in shock, half in arousal.
“You ripped them,” she breathes.
“I’ll buy you new ones,” I rasp. “I’ll buy you a thousand pairs.”
I unbuckle my belt, shoving my trousers down. I’m hard, painfully hard, pulsing with a need that feels like violence.
I grab a condom from my wallet—I’ve carried it for weeks, like a talisman, hoping for this moment and dreading it at the same time. I sheath myself with shaking hands.
I look at her.
She is sprawled on my desk, her hair fanned out on the black marble, her dress hiked up, her legs spread for me.
She looks like a sacrifice. She looks like a queen.
“Tell me who I am,” I demand.
“Ethan,” she pants.
“Who am I?”
“My boss,” she whispers.
“Wrong.” I grab her hips, positioning myself at the tip of her pussy. I press the head of my cock against her swollen clit. “I’m the man who is about to own you.”
I thrust.
I bury myself in her to the hilt in one stroke.
She screams.
I groan, throwing my head back as her tight, wet heat clamps around me. It’s overwhelming. It’s better than I imagined. It’s better than my fantasies.
“So tight,” I grit out. “Fuck, Tessa.”
I hold still for a second, letting her body stretch to accommodate the thickness of my cock. She’s panting, her nails digging into my shoulders, her heels locked at the small of my back.
“Move,” she begs. “Please, move.”
I withdraw almost completely, then slam back in.
We find a rhythm instantly. It’s not the slow, sensual rhythm I imagine she had with Owen. This is hard. Fast. Primal.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
The sound of my hips hitting her ass echoes in the room. The desk shudders under us.
I lean down, bracing my hands on the marble on either side of her head. I stare into her eyes as I fuck her aggressively. I want to see everything. I want to see the pleasure take her.
“Keep your eyes open,” I order when her lashes flutter shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. I want you to see who is doing this to you.”
“You,” she gasps, her hips bucking to meet mine. “It’s you.”
“Yes.”
I grind my hips against hers, the impact bruising and heavy. I’m not just fucking her; I’m branding her. I’m burning out every trace of my brothers until she only knows this weight. This friction.
I drive into her, harder, deeper. I want to erase Owen’s touch. I want to drown out Asher’s kiss. I want to be the only thing she feels. The only thing she remembers.
My hand moves between us, finding her clit. I rub it hard and fast.
She throws her head back, biting her lip so hard it turns bloodless. She’s fighting it. She’s trying to stifle the sound, trying to hold onto some shred of control.
“Give it to me,” I growl against her ear.
“I can’t,” she sobs.
I grind my thumb against her, relentless.
She screams my name.
Her back arches off the desk, her heels digging into my hips as she finally surrenders. Her inner muscles spasm around me, milking me.
The sensation of her climax triggers mine. I can’t hold back. The control I pride myself on shatters into a million pieces.
I grab her hips, holding her in place as I piston into her. One. Two. Three.
I roar as I come, pouring myself into her, emptying everything I have—my anger, my fear, my desire—inside her.
I collapse on top of her, my face buried in the wreckage of her hair as I gasp for air.
We stay like that for a long time. The only sound is our ragged breathing and the hum of the servers in the distance.
Slowly, the red haze lifts.
Reality crashes back in.
I am lying on top of my employee. On my desk. In a glass room where anyone could have walked by.
I pull back, bracing myself on my elbows.
Tessa looks wrecked. Her lips are swollen, her chest is flushed, even her dress is ruined. She’s shaking violently, her thighs trembling as her body betrays her.
She looks at me. Her eyes are soft. Vulnerable.
“Ethan?” she whispers.
I stand up and fix my clothes, zipping my fly and buckling my belt. My hands are steady now. The tremor is gone.
But a new feeling has replaced it.
I just slept with her. After telling my brothers not to. After telling her not to.
I broke the code.
She tries to pull her torn panties together, then gives up, peels them off, and smooths her dress down.
I turn away from her and walk to the window, staring out at the dark city.
“Go home,” I say.
“What?”
“Go home, Tessa.”
“Ethan, you can’t just…” She slides off the desk. I hear her bare feet on the carpet. “We just had sex.”
“We made a mistake,” I correct her. I turn to look at her. I summon every ounce of coldness I possess. “A lapse in judgment. Adrenaline. Alcohol. Call it whatever you want.”
She flinches as if I slapped her. “Is that what I am? A lapse in judgment?”
“You are a liability,” I say. “I told you that on day one. And tonight proved it. I lost control. I jeopardized this company.”
“You didn’t jeopardize anything! No one knows!”
“I know!” I shout. “I know, Tessa! And that is enough!”
I run a hand through my hair.
“This stops now,” I say. “Owen. Asher. Me. It stops. We go back to being professionals. We go back to work.”
“You can’t be serious,” she whispers. Tears are welling in her eyes. “After what we just did… you can’t just turn it off.”
“Watch me.”
I walk to my chair and pick up my jacket.
“I’ll call you a car,” I say, pulling out my phone. “Go downstairs. Wait in the lobby.”
“I can call my own damn car,” she spits.
She grabs her purse and her heels from the floor and walks to the door.
She pauses, her hand on the handle as she turns to look at me.
“You aren’t protecting the company, Ethan,” she says, her voice shaking. “You’re just protecting yourself. You’re a fucking coward.”
She slams the door.
I watch her walk away through the glass wall. I watch her disappear into the darkness of the hallway.
I am alone.
I look at the desk. The scattered papers. The torn scrap of black lace on the floor.
I sink into my chair.
I won. I pushed her away. I saved the mission.
I put my head in my hands.
And for the first time since I was twenty-two years old, huddled in a transport carrier leaving a war zone…
I cry.