11. Aurora
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Aurora
I should have pulled away. Should have told him this was a mistake.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I tilted my head ever so slightly, my lips brushing against his in a whisper of a kiss so soft, so tentative, it barely felt real.
Ethan groaned, low and deep in his chest, his fingers tightening around mine. Then his other hand was at my jaw, tilting my face up, and before I could think, before I could second-guess, he kissed me again.
It wasn’t slow this time. It wasn’t careful.
It was need and heat and restraint unraveling all at once.
His lips were firm, demanding, parting mine with a hunger that sent a slow, aching pulse through me. His hand slid from my jaw to the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair, tugging just enough to send a shudder racing down my spine.
I gasped, and he took the sound into his mouth, deepening the kiss, his tongue stroking against mine with a possessiveness that made my knees weak.
God, I should stop this.
But when Ethan shifted closer, his body pressing against mine, all rational thought disappeared.
I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath his shirt. His heart pounded hard, matching the frantic rhythm of my own, and when my fingers curled into the fabric, he made a rough sound and pulled me into his lap.
A soft moan escaped me as my thighs settled on either side of him, my body fitting against his like I belonged there.
Ethan’s hands skimmed down my back, over my hips, gripping me tight as he dragged me closer until there was nothing between us but the heavy thrum of anticipation.
His mouth left mine, trailing a slow, burning path along my jaw and down my neck. The scrape of his stubble created delicious friction against my skin, and when he reached the sensitive spot just below my ear, he sucked lightly, his teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp.
“Ethan,” I breathed, my fingers sinking into his hair.
He groaned against my skin, his hands sliding under my sweater, fingertips teasing the bare skin at my waist. His touch was electric, scorching a path up my ribs, over the curve of my back.
I arched into him, desperate for more, for anything, for everything.
Because this wasn’t careful. This wasn’t planned.
This was fire.
And I was already burning.
Ethan’s hands were firm as they explored, like he was mapping every inch of me. His fingers splayed over my back, his palms warm against my bare skin.
I gasped when he tugged my sweater up, just enough to expose my stomach to the cool air. His mouth followed, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses down the column of my throat.
I shivered, and his grip tightened.
“Cold, sweetheart?” His voice was low, rough with restraint.
“No,” I whispered, breathless. “Not even a little.”
Because heat was coiling low in my stomach, spreading like wildfire, and the only thing I felt was him .
Ethan pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. His blue eyes burned with something dangerous, something raw, and it sent a shudder through me. He looked at me like I was something to be savored.
Something to be worshipped.
His fingers brushed against my ribs, teasing the edge of my bra. When I didn’t stop him, he pushed my sweater higher, and his breath hitched.
“Aurora.” My name was a plea, a curse, a prayer all in one.
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
All I could do was feel.
Ethan’s mouth found mine again, a kiss that unraveled me at the seams. His hands cupped my waist, then slid higher, his thumbs tracing circles over my skin, setting off a chain reaction of longing.
I rocked against him, instinct taking over, needing more, needing closer.
He exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into my hips. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
I swallowed hard. “Then show me.”
Something dark flickered in his eyes, something that made my pulse stutter.
And then he did.
With a quiet growl, Ethan lifted me effortlessly, shifting us until I was beneath him, my back pressing into the couch. His weight settled over me, a solid, undeniable heat, and the sensation sent a shiver through me.
He kissed me again, slower now, like he wanted to take his time unraveling me. His lips trailed lower, down the slope of my throat, over my collarbone. His hands followed, sliding over my bare skin with a reverence that made my head spin.
I arched into him, chasing every touch, every kiss, every slow, torturous inch of contact.
I’d had nights of passion before. With Mason, it had been reckless, all-consuming. With Owen, it had been playful, teasing, easy.
But this.
This was something different.
Ethan wasn’t just touching my body. He was learning it, memorizing it. He was savoring every inch of me like he had nowhere else to be, like I was the only thing that mattered.
Ethan’s breath was ragged, his body taut with restraint as he hovered over me, his hands gripping my waist like he was holding himself back.
I didn’t want him to.
I wanted to see him lose control.
With a slow, deliberate motion, I pushed against his chest, guiding him back. His brows furrowed, his lips slightly parted as he let me maneuver him until he was sitting back against the couch, his legs spread wide, his hands resting on my hips.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice husky, threaded with tension.
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I slid down between his thighs, my hands trailing over the firm muscles of his chest, then lower to his stomach, feeling the way his breath hitched beneath my touch.
His fingers flexed on my waist, but he didn’t stop me.
Didn’t even try.
I kissed a slow path down his torso, my lips exploring, tasting the salt of his skin as I went. His body tensed beneath my mouth, every muscle coiled like a wire ready to snap, but he still didn’t stop me.
He let me take control.
Let me unravel him.
And when I finally reached the waistband of his jeans, when I popped the button and slid the zipper down, his breath left him in a shuddering exhale.
“Aurora.”
His voice was almost a warning.
I smiled against his skin, my fingers teasing over the exposed edge of his boxers, feeling the hard length of him beneath. The power in that moment sent a thrill through me, knowing I could make him lose himself.
I wanted to taste him. To hear him come undone.
To get to know more of him .
I looked up, meeting his gaze, holding it as I tugged at his jeans, sliding them lower. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, his hands fisting at his sides.
And when I leaned in, pressing my lips just above his waistband, his restraint shattered.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the couch.
I took my time, teasing, tasting, reveling in the way he responded to every flick of my tongue, every slow stroke of my lips. His hands tangled in my hair, not guiding, not demanding, just holding, as if he needed something to anchor himself.
When I finally took him fully into my mouth, his entire body jerked, a raw sound tearing from his throat.
“Aurora.”
I hummed against him, letting my tongue trace slow, deliberate patterns over him, enjoying the way his muscles tensed, the way his hands flexed, the way he was completely at my mercy.
And God, I loved it.
I loved the way he came undone for me.
Loved the way he said my name like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.
Ethan’s entire body trembled beneath my touch, his fingers tangled in my hair, his breath ragged and uneven. I could feel the tension coiled inside him, the barely restrained control threatening to snap.
And I wanted him to snap.
I wanted him to lose himself completely.
With one last slow, deliberate drag of my tongue, I pulled back, my lips brushing his skin as I whispered, “I want you.”
Ethan cursed under his breath, his grip tightening as he pulled me up, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that left no room for hesitation. It was fire and urgency, his hands roaming over my body once again.
He lifted me effortlessly, his strength undeniable as he carried me to the bedroom. The air between us was thick with need, the anticipation almost unbearable as he set me down on the bed, his body hovering over mine.
“You sure?” His voice was rough, edged with restraint, but his eyes. His eyes were pure heat.
I hooked my legs around his waist, pulling him down so I could feel every hard inch of him against me. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
That was all it took.
His mouth was everywhere—my neck, my collarbone, the swell of my breasts—leaving a trail of heat in its wake. I arched into him, desperate for more, for all of him.
Clothes disappeared between heated kisses and wandering hands, the cool air against my skin only making me more aware of how much I needed him.
When he finally pressed against me, skin to skin, I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. He was slow at first, teasing, torturing, dragging out the moment until I was trembling beneath him, my body aching for release.
“Ethan,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Please.”
Something in him shattered at that word.
With a groan, he pushed inside me, filling me completely, stretching me in a way that sent pleasure sparking through every nerve in my body.
I clung to him, my breath stolen as he moved. Deep, slow strokes at first, making me feel every inch of him. His name was a prayer on my lips, his hands gripping my hips, anchoring us together.
Then the pace changed.
The restraint broke.
Ethan’s control snapped, and suddenly, it was raw and desperate, the room filled with the sound of our bodies moving together, the sharp intake of breath, the whispered curses and moans.
I was lost in him, in the way he moved, in the way he worshipped my body with every touch, every kiss. And when I finally shattered around him, pleasure crashing over me in waves, he wasn’t far behind, his body tensing as he found his own release.
He collapsed against me, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling, our bodies still tangled together.
Neither of us spoke.
Because there were no words for this. No words for what just happened.
What had happened a few times since I’d been here.
No words for the dangerous, terrifying truth settling in my heart.
I was in a complicated mess, and there was no way of getting out.
What the hell was Medford doing to me?