29. Aurora
TWENTY-NINE
AURORA
I try to pull away, needing space to collect my thoughts.
But Ethan’s grip on my throat tightens, and he growls, “Don’t move.”
His hold isn’t punishing. I can breathe easily and break free if I wanted—maybe. But his powerful claim over my body is louder than any words could express, and I find I don’t want to—quite the opposite. My body wants to submit to him.
It’s my mind that rebels.
He reaches between our bodies and slips his thumb under the gusset of my lace thong.
My face flushes with heat. “Ethan—” I’m speechless, embarrassed, and aroused.
He glides his finger through my already wet slit. “You let him come in you?”
Before I utter a word, he pushes two fingers inside me.
“Answer me,” he demands.
I swallow the lump in my throat, my voice weak. I swear, I lose all sense when this man touches me. “Yes.”
He curls his fingers and circles my swollen clit with his thumb. My thighs tense, and I bite my bottom lip.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” he teases.
The carnal sound of him working my sex only fuels my desire, and I rock my hips.
“Too sensitive.”
He slows his pace. “And why is that?”
“Ethan,” I whine. “We should talk.”
Didn’t he say we needed to talk? How did this escalate from I have feelings for you to him tormenting me in less than sixty seconds?
And what about Jackson? I can’t deal with his jealousy. He’ll be furious and hurt.
Conflicted, I grab Ethan’s wrist.
His expression hardens. “Unless you plan on clawing me while I make you come, remove your hand.”
His voice is low and deep and frightening.
And why am I so aroused?
I snatch my hand away. “But…”
“Good girl. Shut off that overworked brain of yours. I’ll handle him.”
He presses his lips to mine, his beard tickling my skin, and I open for him without resisting. Our tongues intertwine, and he continues to fuck me with his fingers.
I whimper and writhe. I need to come badly , but it’s just out of reach, blocked by anxious thoughts.
“Let me have control.” His hand around my throat shifts, and his thumb caresses my jawline. “I’ve got you.”
I want that, more than anything, to let someone else take control, to trust someone enough to stop overthinking.
And I want him , as wrong as it might be. I want Ethan.
So, I do. I allow my mind to go blank, freeing all shame and doubt. “Okay.”
“That’s my good girl.”
Jesus, those words.
He removes his fingers from me and draws them across my bottom lip. “Open.”
Although my clit is throbbing for release, I obey. I suck his fingers into my mouth and run my tongue over them.
He watches me with fire in his eyes. “You enjoying his cum?”
My lips part. I stare at him, stunned. How am I supposed to answer that?
“Don’t worry.” His intense gaze burns into mine, his voice all gravelly. “I’m going to fuck the taste of him right out of your mouth.”
He releases my throat to remove his shirt, and I instantly miss the possessive hold.
With impatience, he hooks the sides of my panties and rips them down my legs, the friction burning my thighs.
My white Chuck Taylors are still on, and he lifts my feet to his stomach. I stifle a giggle. There’s something about this formidable man—with his large hands curled around my small ankles as he pries my panties over my immature sneakers—that makes me smile.
I bet he never saw this coming, never saw himself with a twenty-two-year-old who wears sundresses and Converse instead of seductive lingerie and six-inch heels.
But he doesn’t miss a beat. He drops my feet and panties, going for his pants. The whoosh and snap of his belt is an aphrodisiac, and I recline, spreading my legs for him.
His stormy gray eyes fixate on my center. “I should punish you and not let you come, but damn, I want that pretty pussy milking my cock.”
He palms his thick erection, notches at my entrance, and fills me in a single, demanding thrust. My back arches, and a lusty moan slips from my throat.
“Fuck, you feel even better than I remember.” His soft tone contrasts entirely with the swift pounding of his hips.
No matter what he says, this is a punishment. He’s ripping the pleasure from my body and ensuring I feel him for days—only him.
Ecstasy prickles along my skin like wildfire, and I grip the counter.
“Come on my cock, baby girl.” He slams into me, hitting fucking deep, and circles my clit.
I tighten my legs around his waist, Converse digging into his back to prevent him from stopping. My mind splinters into a million pieces, and I shatter with a strangled scream.
“Fucking hell,” he grits through clenched teeth. “I’m not ready to come yet. Jesus, fuck.”
He doesn’t slow his powerful thrusts until my moans quiet and my body relaxes.
My brain is still foggy when he pulls out, lifts me from the island, and sets me on wobbly legs.
He fists his shaft. “Get on your knees.”
Eager to submit, I drop.
He steps closer and widens his stance. Thumbing his length, he grabs my hair and tugs my head back. “Open.”
I do, without hesitation, and that possessive grip returns to my throat.
He slides his cock along my tongue, stretching my lips, and demands, “Clean him off me,” in that gruff tone that sends a shiver down my spine.
I take him into my mouth, savoring the erotic blend of flavors that explode on my taste buds and elicit a moan.
“You like that, don’t you? You like being my dirty girl?”
His fist wraps in my hair, and I whimper, the restraint shooting straight to my clit.
There must be something wrong with me, because I love his brand of dominance, love being at his mercy.
He gives me no time to adjust to him, thrusting deep, and I gag.
His dick jolts, and he sucks air through his teeth, hissing. “Take my cock.” Thrust . “Show me who you fucking belong to.” Thrust.
He holds me in place and fucks my mouth, one hand fisting my hair and the other clasping my throat. His movements are forceful yet controlled, his dark gaze locked on mine the entire time.
“Nobody else, Aurora. You understand me? Or I’ll choke you with my cock.”
Does he mean him? Jackson? Him and Jackson…
Thrust .
He gives me a sample of his threats, and I try to suppress my gag reflex, the muscles of my throat working against him.
Tears leak out, and I concentrate on breathing through my nose.
“God, you’re fucking good.”
His pace increases, and I press him to the roof of my mouth, circling my tongue. He releases a guttural groan, and I taste his precum.
Cupping the back of my head, he flexes his hips, and right when I think I can’t take anymore and my nails are digging into his thighs, his cock jerks.
“Ah…fuck.” He rumbles a deep moan.
I meet his intense gaze, his eyes half-lidded, his jaw clenched. I swallow his cum until he’s satisfied and brushing his fingers through my hair.
“Good girl,” he pants. “Come here.” He lifts me into his arms. “Let’s go to bed.”
Then, he kisses my forehead as if he didn’t just alter my fucking soul.