14. Ethan
Chapter 14
Ethan
W hat’s the psychological term for running headfirst into danger for a woman?
I don’t know, but I can only trust the way I feel, the searing in my veins, and the violent thumping of my heart that tells me I won’t let Denver Luxe go. Can’t.
Gripping the backs of her thighs, I lift and carry her to the bedroom. She doesn’t speak as I lay her down, and the silver glow of her eyes tells me she has no intention of leaving.
“We’re going slow this time.” I move her hair from her face, my forearm resting above her head. She’s wide-eyed but not even close to vulnerable as she nods. “I want to take my time with you.”
Before you go back to him.
Loud, unspoken words. Ones that burn my throat and do something painful to my chest because I know this can only be what it is right now, and I’m powerless to stop it. Thoughts a whirlwind, heart a mess, I do only what I can. I kiss her.
Denver laces her fingers through my hair, her tongue circling and massaging mine, her body arching to remove the space between us.
Why does she always taste so good? It feels like sweet electricity coats my lips and tongue, and I can’t get enough.
“Take off my clothes,” she whispers.
Her nipples are already hard and pressing against the thin fabric of her loose linen shirt, and I deftly flick each button free. I kiss the skin revealed beneath, and Denver takes in a sharp breath as I move the material aside, my palm gliding across her nipples before taking one in my mouth. I massage her other breast, soft, warm, and pliable in my hand.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say. “I haven’t been able to think about anything but you all day.”
She whimpers softly, and something warms inside of me at the sight of her this way. She’s vulnerable, at ease, almost calm, and given the wildness of her life, this version of her must be rare.
Reluctantly, I release her nipple from my mouth and sit up. Gripping her shorts and underwear, I pull them both down in one swift moment, and Denver lifts her hips to help.
Once she’s fully exposed to me, I hold back a feral sound building in my throat. Smooth, pink, and already glistening, she’s my next fucking meal, and I kiss between her legs.
I flatten my tongue against her, closing my lips around her sweetness, tasting her, teasing her. Denver entwines her fingers in my hair, grinding herself against my mouth, eager, desperate for more. I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, sucking it into my mouth, and when I nibble, she cries out softly.
If I continue like this, I’m going to come before I’ve even fucked her, but I can’t get enough of her taste, her smell, and the sounds she makes when I push my tongue inside her warmth.
“Oh god?—”
I cast a glance up, the curve of Denver’s breasts magnificent in the moonlight falling through the windows. She looks like a work of art, her arm reaching above her and gripping the pillow, her eyes closed, pink lips parted on a moan.
I sit up again and reach back, pulling off my t-shirt and throwing it to the ground. I climb off the bed to unzip my jeans and push them down, my cock finally free, but it still aches painfully, desperate to be buried inside her.
Denver props herself up on her elbows, her sigh mingling with a longing groan. “I fucking love your dick.”
I grip the base of my cock and squeeze, the tip shining. “Prove it.”
A world of want reflects in the gray of her eyes, and the lines of reality and fantasy blur when she shifts to the end of the bed and wraps her lips around me.
“Fucking Christ,” I whisper, running my fingers through her hair. Her cheeks hollow out as she takes me across her tongue, eyes glistening with tears as I touch the back of her throat. She grips my thighs, nails pressing into the muscle, and never looks away from me. I’m lost in her—her eyes, her warmth, the anticipation of fucking her after needing it for so long. “Swallow around me.”
She does, her throat tightening around my cock, and I groan, pleasure pulsing through my balls. She uses her hand where her lips can’t reach, moving in perfect rhythm as I watch. I’m addicted to the sight, committing everything to memory—her dreamy, lust-filled expression, her flushed cheeks, the tears in her eyes.
“Condoms,” I breathe.
She climbs off the bed, pumping my wet cock in her hand. I hiss in pleasure, and she pushes me back onto the bed. The nightstand drawer opens and closes, and she straddles me before her lips find mine again. She tastes of me, her tongue slowly swiping across mine, and I groan into her mouth as she rolls the condom onto me.
Warmth touches the end of my cock, and Denver slides herself down, her eyes rolling back as she takes all of me.
Holy fuck.
I might have said it out loud. I’m not entirely sure. I’m dizzy when she moves her hips, a slow, tentative rock at first, her hands planted flat on my chest as she adjusts to me.
“Jesus,” I whisper, gripping her hips, admiring the slow bounce of her breasts as she moves faster.
Goosebumps climb across my skin, and waves of pleasure work through me with every roll of her hips. Fuck, she’s good at this. It’s taking everything in me not to lose control before her.
“Kiss me,” she whispers, our lips meeting again.
I can feel her tightening, and I circle my thumb over her clit. She jerks slightly at the sensation, a quiet gasp escaping her throat.
“Are you going to come for me?” I ask against her mouth, and she nods quickly, her eyes squeezed closed. “Then look at me. Look at me while I make you come.” Her eyes fly open, the gray shining in the dark, her bottom lip pressed between her teeth. “Say my name as you come, Denver.”
She takes in a sharp breath, and I grip her hips tighter, moving her back and forth as she rolls them. She blinks quickly, eyes widening. “Ethan, oh?—”
She comes, pulsing around my cock, her cries echoing as she rides out the pleasure.
“On your back,” I say, and she obliges without argument. I grin as I sit up and nudge her knees apart, kneeling between her legs. “I like post-orgasm Denver. She actually listens.”
She gives me the finger, but it lacks her usual fire, and my grin widens.
My hand drifts between her legs, her wetness coating my fingers as I plunge them inside her. Denver’s back arches, and fuck, she’s soaked. I keep my rhythm slow and precise, watching her face as the pleasure envelopes her.
“Does that feel good?” I ask, and she nods, a whimper leaving her lips as I pick up speed. Her hand snatches out, and she grips my bicep, her eyes wide, lips parted. I move faster, leaning over her, and she glances between my hand and face.
“Fuck me ,” she whispers. “I can’t… I don’t think… Oh, fuck me—” She bucks against my fingers, one hand pressed against the headboard, quick and desperate moans leaving her mouth. I don’t relent. I move faster, fingers curling inside her, hitting the spot I know she needs, and she cries out. “I?—”
She arches her back, and her body tenses as she comes, spilling over my fingers. I kiss her chest, slowing my movement but never stopping.
“Holy goddamn shit, what the fuck?” she gasps. “I am never making fun of your biceps ever again.”
I laugh, sucking and teasing her nipple as she catches her breath. “Happy you kissed me in the gym?”
“Happy I’m wherever your fingers are.”
“My fingers are nothing.”
“Prove it,” she says, and when I push my cock into her again, her head falls back.
A deep blush spreads across her neck and chest, and I kiss it, whispering her name into her skin because I have no other words. She runs her hands up my arms to the back of my head, her fingers tangling in my hair, and when I look at her again, the stark silver of her eyes brands me with desire, heated and permanent and ours.
My mind spins. I drop my forehead against her shoulder and try to maintain my composure, but she’s so tight, so perfect, so ready for me. I move my hips faster and grip the headboard, picking up speed, and she holds on so tightly to my hair that it hurts, but I don’t stop. Can’t stop. I need to hear her again; I need to hear those sounds fall from her lips.
I slam into her repeatedly, giving her everything. She cries out, my name permanently leaving her mouth, begging me never to stop. I lift my head and see her tongue through her parted lips and dive for it, kissing her frantically, her kisses the same. All the while, I power into her. A sheen of sweat coats my back and her chest, and the room is stifling, but I don’t stop. Her sounds are too beautiful, her mouth too sweet, and as her orgasm approaches, I slow, but only for a moment.
“You’re going to come for me, Denver,” I say, and she nods quickly in response. “You’re going to come because you’re a good girl who does what she’s told, aren’t you?”
She bites her lip. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”
I grin, and I’m breathless as I say, “The feeling is mutual.”
I’m getting close, and god, I need it. I’ve needed it since she walked out of the gym, and I pick up my pace again, looking down at her. I’ve never wanted anyone more.
And as her eyes roll back and she comes again, I do, too, and I know that I’m fully addicted to Denver Luxe.
“Stay dirty.”
Denver laughs, wriggling in my grasp. “I can’t sleep unless I’ve showered!”
I groan into her neck, my arms tight around her body as we lie together. Hours of sex, and I still want more, need more. She’s quickly becoming my favorite smell, favorite taste, favorite fucking everything.
Am I thinking with my dick? Partly. But my heart is a co-conspirator in the dumbest thing I have ever done—fall for a woman who belongs to the most dangerous man in San Francisco.
“Shower with me.” Denver arches her back, nudging her ass into my cock.
“Better yet, let’s have a bath,” I whisper and release her. She hops out of bed, glorious and confident in her nakedness. My phone lights up on the nightstand. “Get started. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She saunters away, beautiful ass swaying. “Don’t make me wait, Ethan Defender! I’m far from patient!”
I run my hand down my face as I watch her leave. She still has a handprint on her ass from round two, the red startling against her creamy skin. “Lord, have fucking mercy.” I check my phone—and my smile vanishes. It feels like I’ve been doused in ice water, my lungs constricting as the name on my screen pulls free memories long buried beneath dirt and whiskey bottles. I answer. “Archer? Is everything okay?”
Archer clears his throat. “No, I… uh…”
It feels like weights have been dropped onto my chest. “What’s wrong?”
“I need a favor.”