Chapter 38
Ethan
‘Feel me,’ she tells me. ‘I want you to see what effect you have on me when we’re together. And I don’t just mean sexually. Just… touch me. Explore my body. Enjoy me.’
I’m not entirely sure what her endgame is here, but then I’m not entirely sure what my endgame was when I asked her that stupid question. That said, if she wants to stop talking about this shit and start enjoying the hell out of each other’s bodies instead, then I have no problem with that.
I lift my weight off her, getting to my knees so I’m crouching over her.
She’s right. I need to see with my own eyes what effect I have on her.
When my call ended, I found myself sitting on the terrace and spiralling, wondering if Sophia was going through the motions every time she let me fuck her.
While my instincts—and ego—said not, some part of me that sounded pretty bloody loud begged to differ.
She’s breathtaking against the white sheets, her long, dark hair splayed around her.
Her tan has built over the past few days, her naturally olive skin growing darker.
Her nipples are already hard through that dratted bikini.
It’s impossible not to be hard around Soph, especially like this, but like she said, the physical attraction between us is irrefutable.
I owe it to her to show her how entranced I am by her before I go to ram my dick inside her.
Instead, I reach up and gently, slowly, rake my fingertips through her mass of hair. It’s so soft, so silky. She stares up at me, eyes molten, pink mouth pursed in anticipation.
‘When I first saw you,’ I tell her as I stroke her hair, ‘my very first thought was that you looked like perfection. And my second was that you couldn’t possibly be that good up close.’
She presses her lips together in a pleased little smile and places her hand back against my heart, where it feels so good and right and true.
‘You were, obviously.’ I pause to brush some strands of hair off her shoulder, focusing on the gold starfish attached to her bikini strap. ‘But what I failed to appreciate at the time was that your looks aren’t even the best part of you.’
My eyes flick back up to hers in time to catch the flash of shock on her face.
‘And that’s what makes me feel inordinately lucky to have you here with me.’ I clear my throat. ‘In any capacity.’
Her fingers flex against my heart. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I feel the same. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, honestly.’ And when I look into her beautiful brown eyes, it is indeed only honesty that I see there.
She said this thing between us was special.
She asked me to show her just how special.
So I do.
I dip my head, and I seal my mouth over hers.
My kiss is slow enough that I can savour every moment, every sensation.
The soft pressure of kissing those pillowy lips.
The tiny hum of approval she makes as I do.
The slick glide of my tongue against hers as she opens easily for me, and the silken wet as I explore her mouth.
I let a hand trail down over her breast, grazing over the triangle of fabric and taut nipple between it, but I don’t stop.
Instead, I make it my business to roam my hand over her skin, so warm and soft, using my fingertips to map her.
It proves such a pleasurable experience that I break our kiss, enjoying the frustrated little whimper she makes as I do, and make my way down her body.
For me, sex is one of two extremes, even with Soph: a quick, perfunctory means to an end, that end being release and blessed oblivion, or a prostrated affair where I edge myself or my partner or both in an effort to show everyone involved who’s boss.
Philip would have a lot to say about that part, but I have no interest in thinking about Philip while Soph’s glorious body rises and falls beneath me.
Right now, I want neither of those things.
I merely want to see where this interlude takes us.
I want to simply exist, for a moment, in this airy room, with the gentle humming of the ceiling fan, and Sophia undulating beneath me.
I want to cast off every last exhausting burden I seem to carry every fucking day, and I want to just be.
I want to get lost in her. In this.
So I do.
I crouch between her legs and kiss my way down the valley of her chest, between her breasts, marvelling at the satin that is her skin.
Her stomach, as I stroke and kiss it, is even softer, the area around her navel achingly so.
I rub my cheek over it, my hand brushing over her waist, and she sighs indulgently, her fingers working through my hair.
I’ve known since I hired Soph that, if I was ever going to allow myself to indulge, she would be the ultimate decadent playground.
Her body is a carnal Disneyland, lush and rich and abundant.
As I continue to make my way down it, hooking my arm around one thigh and gluing my nose to her fabric-covered cunt so I can inhale sharply, she lets out a shuddery moan.
Arousal is pumping off her, and the scent of it is like nothing else.
But she’s more than just a cunt, no matter how honeyed, how musky, how ready, and so I continue my languorous journey, kissing one inner thigh and then the other before I slide my hand down one satiny leg before cuffing her ankle and licking her instep.
She huffs her impatience. ‘Ethan.’
‘What?’ I peer up, smiling at the naked frustration on her face. ‘You told me to enjoy you. That’s what I’m doing. Just roll with it.’
‘Just roll with it? Are you serious right now? Fuck, this is not the time for you to discover your inner zen.’
‘You’re my inner zen.’ I run my nose along the arch of her foot before releasing it and turning to the other one. ‘But if you want me to show you, then I will.’
I brace myself on one arm and slowly untie one side of her string bikini bottoms, then the other, folding the triangle fabric down as if I’m unwrapping the most precious package, which I essentially am.
A glance up her body shows her watching me avidly.
I keep my eyes on her as I slide a single finger inside her. Her lips part, and I groan.
When I do this slowly, when I really focus, I can feel every aspect of her as if it’s a singular miracle.
The astonishing wetness. How snugly she fits around my finger.
The glide of it against her slippery inner walls.
These few inches where our flesh meets contain multitudes, entire worlds.
My dick may be throbbing, weeping, but the rest of me is entranced.
‘How does it feel?’ I murmur as I slide out and back in, slowly. Keeping my finger exactly where it is, I carefully bend and plant my free hand near her shoulder, so I can watch her face more closely.
‘Incredible.’ It’s a whisper.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’
The room is quiet, the only noises the breeze through the greenery beyond the open French doors and the ceiling fan.
It allows me to focus on our breathing and on the obscene, addictive sounds of her body sucking me in.
I slide my thumb lightly over the glossy button of her clit, watching for her reaction.
Soph has a highly expressive face, but observing the ripples of desire that pass over it as I touch her in this leisurely way may just be the most mesmerising thing I’ve ever seen.
‘What do you need?’
She swallows, looking up at me through her thick eyelashes. ‘You, inside me. But like this.’
I’m already removing my fingers and kneeling up to push down my shorts. ‘Slow, you mean?’
‘Yeah. Slow and, like, intentional. Make me feel every thrust.’
Her face is a plea just as much as her words.
Holy fucking hell.
Make me feel every thrust.
That I can do.
As soon as I’ve wrestled off my shorts, I’m back to crouching above her, our faces inches apart. She arches on the bed, restless, as I notch my crown against her entrance and proceed to feed her my dick. Not for the first time since we renegotiated terms, I thank heaven for no condoms.
I press myself inside her in small, shuddering increments.
Beneath me, she trembles. She has one hand clutching my shoulder and the other flexing in my hair.
The feel of burying myself inside her is exquisite. Otherworldly. It’s astounding that two bodies can together produce such intense pleasure.
I bottom out inside her, and it’s a symphony of sensation.
I watch her face, and she watches mine.
I dip my head to kiss her, just fleetingly. Her lips, her tongue, feel like a rain-soaked flower.
And then I begin to move, slowly. I may be hyper-aware of what my body wants to do, but I’m not in its thrall.
I’m not blindly, savagely seeking release.
I allow my head to fall into the crook of Soph’s neck, to inhale the scent of her perfume and her post-nap skin.
With the arm not supporting my weight, I gather her up as best I can.
Our bodies slide against each other as I fuck her, her ragged breaths in my ear and the grip of her fingernails against my shoulder, my back, the best barometers for gauging another person’s pleasure that I’ve ever known.
The build is so fucking good. It has my skin prickling with sweat, my joints growing molten. The rhythm of this dance we’re doing is an ancient tattoo, a timeless inner knowledge.
Soph’s hand drags down my back until she’s grabbing my arse and holding me closer.
Pressing me deeper inside her. I get it, I really do.
Sublime does not begin to describe the sensation of bottoming out in her every time.
With an anguished sigh, she lets her other arm fall out to the side, smacking the mattress.
‘Dear god. I never, ever want this to end.’
‘Not sure I can manage that,’ I grit into her hair before turning and kissing her jaw. ‘But I get what you mean.’
With difficulty, I lift my head so I can see her face.
She’s flushed, mouth swollen and huge eyes almost all pupil.
She’s the most spectacular sight I’ve ever seen, caged in as she is on this bed by my body.
This is chemical. The very air feels charged.
It’s intense, this feeling. Overwhelming in a way that goes beyond the physical.
I don’t use drugs, but this weird, expansive, addictive high that I’m experiencing certainly feels like drugs.
Like everything in the universe is as it should be.
‘I’m close,’ she whispers, eyelashes fluttering closed for moment. ‘Oh, Jesus.’
‘Look at me,’ I command. ‘Show me.’ I need to see this, need to be able to look into her eyes when she comes apart for me. She opens her eyes, her breaths coming in pants, and it strikes me as extraordinary that I can have this effect on her, that she’s as overcome as I am.
I slide out and thrust back in, and it’s slow and deep and so fucking dirty, with this weird, elemental overlay that’s happening, and I swear the sight of her face as I fuck her, as she climbs that onset of her orgasm, makes this doubly erotic.
There’s something about undoing a woman as strong and unapologetically sensual as Soph that stokes my desire like nothing else on earth.
Her entire body is shaking. Our eyes stay locked. She looks almost terrified of what’s to come.
Good.
She should be.
I remove the arm I have banded around her and reach between us so I can pinch her nipple hard.
Her face contorts, her eyes darting frantically over my face, mouth open in a silent scream.
I twist her nipple, biting down on my lip savagely in an attempt to hold myself the fuck together, and drive myself harder inside her.
She breaks, falling apart in spectacular style, body bucking and bucking below me, crying out her orgasm. I press my forehead to hers and urge her on as I piston into her, my thrusts coming faster now. I’ve lost all control.
‘That’s my girl. That’s my girl. Give it to me.’
She’s practically weeping, and I know how it feels.
There’s a ball of pressure in my chest almost as great as the one in my dick.
As she claws at me, rolling her hips over and over so her greedy cunt can milk me and milk me, the heat in my lower body fucking ignites, my balls tightening impossibly as I go rigid inside her and then start pumping.
And pumping. Emptying myself violently. Endlessly. Roaring out my own orgasm.
I find her lips as I rut through the rest of it, licking into her mouth, fucking her at both ends, palming her breast. Anything, everything, to prolong her pleasure and mine, to draw out the moment she told me she wanted never to end.
When I finally flop down on top of her, sated and depleted and mindless with what feels like peace, she’s breathless and giggling.
‘What?’ I mutter against her cheek, inhaling the scent of her hair.
She wraps her arms loosely around my neck. ‘I think the infamously cold-hearted Ethan Kingsley has just mastered the art of sex as a co-regulation technique.’
I lift my head so I can roll my eyes at her, but she’s not done.
‘Otherwise known as making love.’