Chapter 16 Mind Blown
Mind = Blown
TYLER
The heat of Ethan's body surrounds the tip of my cock, heart hammering against my ribs so hard I'm surprised he can't hear it. This is it, the moment I've been both terrified of and desperate for since that first kiss on Halloween.
My mind should be racing with doubts. Shouldn't I be freaking out? Having some kind of sexual identity crisis? But staring down at Ethan, his green eyes trusting, his body open and ready for me, all I feel is… right. Like every choice, every path, every moment has been leading me exactly here.
"Tell me if it's too much." My voice is barely recognizable to my ears.
"I will. Just go slow at first."
The initial resistance gives way as I push forward, just the head of my cock breaching him, and…
holy shit. We groan at the same time. The sensation is overwhelming, hot, and tight and perfect in a way I wasn't prepared for.
My vision actually blurs at the edges, and I have to freeze, gripping the sheets beside his hips to anchor myself.
"You okay?" Ethan whispers, his fingers lightly touching my forearm.
My head jerks up and down idiotically because I don't trust my voice.
Okay doesn't begin to cover it. It's nothing like being with women. It’s tighter, hotter, more intense in ways I never imagined.
I'm right on the edge, feeling so good it almost hurts, trying really hard not to embarrass myself by coming instantly.
But it's not just the physical feeling that's destroying me; it's knowing that this is Ethan. That I'm inside the man who's somehow become so important to me in just a few short weeks.
"Oh my god," the strain in my voice is no joke. "You feel... I might... I need a second."
God, his face. The way he's looking at me, like I'm something precious. No one has ever looked at me like that. Not during sex. Not ever.
Taking a shuddering breath, I push deeper, watching his lips part on a gasp.
The urge to thrust, to chase this incredible feeling, is almost overwhelming, but I force myself to go slow, to enjoy each fraction of an inch.
This isn't just sex. I'm stepping over a line I can never step back from, and I want to remember every single moment.
Not because it's my first time with a man, but because it's my first time with him.
When I pause, my body trembles with the effort of stopping, and sweat beads on my forehead. "I'm afraid I'm going to blow as soon as I'm all the way in," The confession tumbles out before I can stop it. "You're so tight, so hot."
"Take your time," he tells me, his fingers gently touching my arms and shoulders, tracing patterns that both soothe and inflame. "We have all night."
Those four simple words send a shiver down my spine. We have all night. The thought centers me somehow.
Taking another deep breath to steady myself, I push forward again, sinking deeper into that incredible heat. Pausing when I'm about halfway in, concern flashes through me. Am I hurting him?
"I thought I'd stretched you enough, but—"
"You did," he assures me, lifting his hips in a motion that takes me deeper, making my eyes roll back momentarily. "It feels good. I want more."
His encouragement is all I need. With one more slow push, I'm fully seated inside him, both of us panting.
I stay still, letting him adjust, but I can't take my eyes off his face, watching for any sign of discomfort.
What I see instead, pleasure, trust, desire, makes my chest tighten with something beyond arousal.
"You okay?" My voice is strained with the effort of holding back.
"Better than okay," he tells me, shifting his hips experimentally in a way that makes me bite my lip to keep from crying out. "You can move now."
Starting with slow, measured strokes, I try to memorize every sensation, every expression that crosses his face. "You feel incredible," my voice breaking embarrassingly. "So perfect around me."
Shifting my angle slightly, I try to remember what he showed me earlier about finding the happy nerve bundle deep inside.
When Ethan suddenly moans, louder than before, I know I've found it.
His whole body arches, and seeing him react like that is like a drug.
Making him feel good might be the hottest thing I've ever experienced.
"There," he gasps. "Right there."
"Here?" I ask, repeating the motion, feeling a ridiculous surge of pride when he nods frantically. Something primal and possessive rises in me. "I've got you."
Now I'm starting to thrust with more confidence, finding a rhythm that makes Ethan grab my shoulders, his nails digging in just enough to send sparks down my spine. Hearing my name on his lips, over and over, is doing dangerous things to my self-control.
Words keep spilling out of me without filtering through my brain first. "You're so beautiful like this," I tell him, meaning every word.
"Taking me so well. I've thought about this so many times, but nothing... nothing compares to how you feel. Oh my god, you are so fucking hot.” I'm babbling with each deep thrust, and I'd be embarrassed if I weren't so far gone.
An impulse hits me, and I sit back suddenly, pulling his hips up to rest on my thighs, changing the angle.
His legs wrap around my waist, and I can tell by his reaction that in this position, I'm hitting his happy buzzer more directly, like I've unlocked some secret level in human anatomy that they don't teach in high school hetero sex ed.
The way his face changes when he feels good makes me feel powerful, like I actually know what I'm doing even though I'm new at this.
His hand moves to his cock, stroking himself in time with my thrusts. I watch, mesmerized by the sight, my mouth going dry. The words scrape past my throat, raw with want. "Touch yourself for me. I want to watch you come with me inside you."
His movements grow more frantic, and I can feel him tightening around me, the pressure exquisite and nearly unbearable. My own orgasm is building rapidly, tension coiling at the base of my spine.
"Almost there, babe," I warn him, feeling my control slipping away. "You feel so... good... oh god, so tight."
As I pull his hips up higher, I'm aiming for that spot inside him that makes him cry out. I'm not thinking straight anymore, just going on instinct and wanting to see him lose control.
"Harder," he demands suddenly, his voice wild. "I'm coming!"
The sight of him coming apart beneath me, his back arched, muscles tense, release spilling over his stomach and chest, is the most erotic thing I've ever witnessed. Feeling his body clenching around me sends me careening over the edge.
"Oh god, Ethan!" The words roar from my throat as my rhythm falls apart. A few more wild thrusts, then everything freezes. I'm buried deep inside him as my orgasm crashes through me, longer and stronger than anything I've ever felt before
After what feels like forever stuck in pure feeling, I collapse forward, catching my weight on my forearms to avoid crushing him. We stare at each other, both panting, and I'm stunned by what just happened between us.
"Is it always like that?" wonder fills my voice. I've had good sex before, but nothing like this, nothing that felt so consuming, so connected. Reality crashes back as I wonder if I was too rough. "I mean, babe, that was amazing! I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Ethan pulls me down for lazy kisses, smiling against my lips in a way that instantly reassures me.
"No, not at all. That was amazing. I can honestly say I've never come like that, so I'm sorry, but you aren't getting rid of me now.
I'm gonna need to test that again and again to see if you're always a mind-blowing fuck. "
His word choice triggers a laugh.
"What?" he asks, looking adorably confused.
"It's just funny to hear YOU say 'fuck,'" I explain, still smiling. "I thought you were, I don't know, the one of us with the big words." I lean in for another kiss, still inside him, feeling bizarrely possessive about that fact.
He wiggles slightly. "You're still hard. How is that possible?"
Shrugging, I kiss him again. "Normal for me. Takes me a few minutes to relax all the way." A wicked thought crosses my mind. "But I'll be ready to go again as soon as my toes uncross."
We both laugh as I obviously glance back toward my feet, then settle more firmly on top of him. Having him beneath me makes me feel both powerful and humbled in a way I struggle to understand. It's too soon to put a name to this feeling, but it's undeniably different from anything I've felt before.
Eventually, I soften and carefully pull out, trying to be gentle. Grabbing the condom, I slide back to remove it and tie it off.
"Hold on," I tell him. "Just wait there."
Heading to the bathroom, I'm suddenly very aware of my nakedness but not feeling self-conscious about it. I grab a washcloth, run it under warm water, and return to the bedroom.
The sight of Ethan sprawled across the bed, relaxed and satisfied because of me, creates a warm glow in my chest. I carefully wipe the cum and lube from his skin, something I'd want someone to do for me.
When I climb back into bed, we don't talk. I pull him against me, his back to my chest, my arm draped over his waist. I press a soft kiss to his shoulder, breathing in his scent, feeling strangely at peace.
After several minutes of comfortable silence, a random question pops into my head. "Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Anything," he murmurs, sounding half-asleep.
"Why meatloaf?"
He laughs softly, turning in my arms to face me. "Think about it for a second."
Furrowing my brow, I'm confused at first. Then understanding dawns on me, and I'm suddenly laughing too, the sound rumbling through my chest against his.
"Because I would do anything for love..." I sing out between laughs.
"But I won't do that!" he finishes, and both of us break into giggles like teenage girls.
When our laughter subsides, I pull him closer, pressing my forehead against his. "For the record," my voice is soft, meaning every word, "that was the best first time I could have imagined."
"Mine too… Mine with you, I mean," he whispers, and something in his tone tells me these words carry weight beyond their surface meaning.
As Ethan drifts off in my arms, I find myself watching him sleep, tracing the curve of his cheek with my eyes.
I've never felt so comfortable with someone after sex.
Usually, I'm ready to sleep or leave, not lie awake admiring someone's eyelashes.
But with Ethan, I don't want to miss a minute, even if he's just breathing softly against my chest.
It hits me then, as his breathing deepens into sleep, that this feels different than any hookup or relationship I've had before.
With Cher and the girls before her, I always had one foot out the door.
Kept things casual, avoided the "where is this going?
" conversations, found excuses to break things off once they wanted more.
But watching Ethan sleep, his stupidly long eyelashes resting against his cheeks, I don't feel that usual itch to escape. I'm not planning exit strategies or thinking up excuses for why I can't hang out tomorrow.
Instead, I'm already wondering what he likes for breakfast and whether we could grab lunch between our classes next week. I'm falling for him, not just his body or the sex, but his smart-ass comments and the way he gets excited talking about hospital procedures that would make most people queasy.
Huh. Maybe I wasn't commitment-phobic before. Perhaps I just hadn't found someone worth committing to.