Chapter 19 Ethan #2
She sobs out a moan, one hand in my hair, the other fisting the sheets, and when she comes again—loud, shaking, almost too much—I don’t stop right away. I slow it down, lap her through the aftershocks until she begs me, breathless and laughing, to give her a break.
I crawl back up and kiss her.
She tastes like sweat and heat and surrender, and her body melts into mine like she never left.
“Now you,” she whispers. “Please, let me—”
I don’t stop her when she pushes me back, when she climbs into my lap and wraps her hand around my cock, guiding me to her slick entrance again.
She sinks down, both of us gasping, and she rolls her hips with a rhythm that makes me see stars.
“Fuck—Lila—”
She kisses me, breath hot against my mouth.
“I want you to finish,” she says, voice shaking. “Want to feel you come inside me.”
I flip her back onto her knees, push into her from behind again, this time holding her steady with one hand between her shoulder blades. “I’m going to fuck you like this, just to keep all of us safe.”
She moans, arching her back, ass flush to my hips. I slide in again and groan at the tight heat of her.
Her breath stutters.
She tries to push back harder. I hold her in place.
“I said slow.”
And I make good on it—until she starts shaking again.
She’s gasping again, one arm trembling under her weight, the other braced against the headboard. I hold her by the hips and fuck into her with measured thrusts, deep and slow, controlling every movement like my restraint’s the only thing keeping her upright.
Her body’s flushed, soaked, wrecked for me. And she’s still not done.
“Ethan—” Her voice breaks. “Please.”
“You need one more?”
She nods, frantic. “Yes—don’t stop—please don’t stop—”
I slide my hand around and stroke her clit again, not gentle this time. She’s already trembling when I press harder, circle just right, and I know the second she starts to fall.
“That’s it,” I rasp, pounding into her. “Give it to me. Let me feel it.”
She chokes on a scream and comes apart around me, her body spasming so tight it nearly pulls me over the edge with her. I groan, grip her hips harder, and grind deep, holding still while she pulses and shakes and gasps beneath me.
When she finally slumps forward, panting, my cock throbs, heavy and aching, so damn close to the edge I can barely think straight. I just know I should finish outside, so I pull out. She turns her head just enough to look at me, eyes glazed but hungry still.
“Ethan,” she murmurs, voice hoarse, “don’t finish like that. I want you in my mouth.”
I freeze for a second, my hand still on her hip, the other braced on the bed. My pulse is hammering, every muscle tight with the need to let go, and her words hit like a fucking wrecking ball. “Lila, I’m too damn close. I don’t know if I can hold it together long enough.”
She pushes up on her elbows, slow and shaky, and twists to face me, her gaze locking with mine. “You can. I know you can. I want to taste you, Ethan. I wanna feel you lose it. Please, just give me this.”
Her voice, raw and desperate, cuts through the last shred of my control. I grit my teeth, nodding once, sharp and quick. “Fuck, fine. But you’d better move fast.”
A small, triumphant smirk tugs at her lips, and she shifts, crawling toward me on her knees.
I stay where I am, kneeling near the edge of the mattress, one hand gripping the sheets to keep myself grounded as she closes the distance.
She’s a mess—skin glistening with sweat, lips swollen from kissing and biting, but the way she looks at me, like I’m the only thing she’s craving, fucks me up worse than anything else.
“C’mere,” she says, low and urgent, reaching for me. Her fingers wrap around the base of my cock, slick from being inside her, and I hiss at the contact, hips jerking forward on reflex. “Fuck, Lila—”
“Shh,” she mutters, leaning in, her breath hot against me before her mouth closes around the tip.
I groan, loud and rough, my head tipping back as she sucks, hard and immediate, no teasing, no bullshit.
Her tongue swirls over the head, tasting every damn inch, and her hand strokes what she doesn’t take, tight and fast.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” I rasp, one hand flying to her hair, fingers tangling in the damp strands just to hold on, not to push.
She moans around me, the vibration shooting straight through my spine, and I can feel it—the edge rushing up faster than I can stop it.
Her other hand grips my thigh, nails digging into my skin, and she takes me deeper, lips stretching around me, eyes flicking up to mine like she’s daring me to break.
“Lila, I’m—fuck, I’m right there,” I warn, voice shredded, every muscle in my body locking tight as I try to hold back just a second longer.
She doesn’t pull off, doesn’t slow down.
If anything, she sucks harder, her hand pumping faster, and the wet, filthy sound of it fills the room, mixing with my groans and her muffled moans.
I can’t stop it. The orgasm hits like a goddamn explosion, ripping through me with a force that blanks my mind.
I curse under my breath, hips stuttering as I spill into her mouth, pulse after pulse, and she takes it all, swallowing around me, her grip not letting up for a second.
My knees damn near buckle, but I brace myself with a hand on the headboard, breathing hard as she drags it out, sucking slow now, pulling every last shudder from me until I’m completely spent.
“Fuck,” I mutter, chest heaving as I finally pull back, collapsing onto the bed beside her.
My legs feel like jelly, my head’s spinning, and I drag a hand over my face, trying to get a grip.
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, that same satisfied smirk on her lips as she sinks down next to me, her body curling into my side.
“Told you I wanted it,” she says, voice rough and smug, her head resting on my shoulder. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, you know that?”
“Good way to go, though,” she quips, her fingers tracing lazy circles on my chest. I glance down at her, taking in the mess we’ve made of each other—sheets tangled to hell, her skin marked with faint red lines from my grip, my shirt half-unbuttoned and shoved up from where she clawed at me.
“You okay?” I ask, my voice softer now, rough from exertion but genuine. I brush a strand of hair from her face, checking her over even though I know she’d tell me if something was wrong.
“More than okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to meet my eyes. “Fucking perfect, actually. You?”
“I’m about to be,” I tell her.