Wicked Fantasies

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

R achel stared at the ceiling in her bedroom the next morning, trying to wrap her head around Ethan’s proposition. After his insistence that his name be added to her list—he’d waited until she’d picked up the pen and actually wrote it on the damn thing—they continued with their usual physical therapy routine as if nothing unusual had occurred. As he was leaving the clinic last night, he’d given her a quick peck on the cheek and told her he would be in touch. What the hell did that mean? In touch when? And what would he be touching?

She groaned as the same nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach returned. She’d tossed and turned all night with an ache that wouldn’t go away until she’d dug out the vibrator Monica had sent all the cougar ladies for Christmas. Rachel had treated the gift as a joke, throwing the thing in her nightstand and never touching it again…until last night.

She squeezed her legs together tightly and debated going for round two with the wickedly fun toy. Just the mere thought of Ethan had her dying for sexual relief. This sudden, unfamiliar sex drive was going to put her in an insane asylum or break her Laundromat bank. The man had only kissed her, for God’s sake, and yet she’d had to change her panties twice during the night, she’d gotten so wet…dreaming of Ethan and imagining all the things she wanted to do to him.

She was just reaching toward the nightstand for the vibrator when her phone rang. Screwed by the bell.

“Hello?” she said.

“Good morning.” Ethan’s deep voice shot through the telephone line like an electrical shock and she squirmed again at the juices his sexy, masculine tone produced. Shit, she was going to give up wearing panties altogether at this rate.

“Hiya. What’s up?”

“Not you, by the sound of your voice. Have to admit I sort of saw you as an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of girl.”

Well, he certainly had her pegged. Normally she was up at the crack of dawn. It was his fault her usual routine was out of whack.

“It’s the weekend and I have nothing to do. Thought I’d give myself a nice, relaxing sleep-in.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

She was about as relaxed as a stockbroker hopped up on Starbucks.

“Well, I wouldn’t say you have nothing to do,” he replied.

She paused for a moment and considered her schedule. Was she supposed to be somewhere? She didn’t recall making any plans. Certainly none with Ethan. She’d sure as hell remember that. “I don’t understand.”

“There’s a package outside your door. I want you to go get it. Your instructions are inside.”

“Instructions?” she asked, her heart rate accelerating. Ethan had been by her place? This morning? Why oh why hadn’t she heard him? He could have taken the place of the lousy vibrator.

“Don’t sound so worried, Rachel. You’ll like this assignment. It involves making a list.”

She grinned at his joke. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with making lists and being prepared. It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more organized—might actually prevent you from being late all the time.” She could tease as well as the next person.

“Yeah, well. You won’t have to worry about that tonight.”

“Tonight?” she asked.

“I’ll be at your place at seven sharp.”

“You will?” She realized her voice had taken on a higher pitch with each consecutive question and she cleared her throat. “Why?”

“It’s all in the package,” he replied enigmatically. “And Rachel, wear something sexy. See you later.”

He hung up the phone with a light chuckle before she could wrap her lips around the word goodbye. Her brain was actually still trying to process the “something sexy” comment. She didn’t do sexy. She wouldn’t know sexy if it bit her in the ass. Her mother had trained her well and she was quite firmly ensconced in the land of prim and proper.

Dammit.

She jumped out of bed and walked to her front door, not sure if she wanted to see what was in Ethan’s surprise package or read his instructions.

Rachel opened the door and found a small square box neatly wrapped in brown paper. Carrying it into the living room, she dropped onto the couch to open it, grinning as she tore the paper. She loved presents.

She gasped when she lifted the lid on the box. Inside was a new copy of the Kama Sutra .

Holy shit.

She picked up the book and flipped through the pages, her mouth dropping open a little bit farther with each subsequent photographed pose.

An envelope dropped out of the front cover and she bent to retrieve it from the floor. Inside were Ethan’s instructions, as promised. It was a sheet of paper much like the paper in her notebook. He’d numbered down the side column one to ten and had even supplied a heading.

Kama Sutra Positions I Want to Try with Ethan.

Holy, holy shit.

Time to call in reinforcements.

She grabbed her laptop from the coffee table and fired it up.

She sent a group text to all the ladies in the Tempt the Cougar group. She’d mentioned hot cop Ethan and a few of her racy fantasies involving the man in past posts and several of her friends had suggested him for her cougar experience. She’d always brushed off the suggestions, saying it was as unlikely as Donald Trump getting a decent haircut.

Help me! Ethan wants to help me fulfill this damn cougar challenge—TONIGHT! He’s serious about it too. What the hell am I supposed to do? He just gave me a copy of the Kama Sutra and told me to pick out some positions to try. Then he told me to wear something sexy. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m as sexy as the Queen of England. Oh my God. Kill me now. How did I let you girls talk me into this?

Monica replied almost immediately and Rachel laughed aloud at her friend’s advice—so typically Mon.

OH. MY. GOD. If you do not do this you will regret it for the REST OF YOUR LIFE. First, pick some positions that don’t require circus acrobat training. If he’s totally hung, try the Clasping or Indrani positions. But my personal favorite? The Tigress. Rawrr. Um, Sam likes that one too.

And the sexy part?

I hate it when men say that. How do you know what he thinks is sexy? I mean, maybe he totally digs the French maid thing. Or plain cotton underwear. If I were you, I’d just open the door naked. I bet he won’t object.

Rachel shook her head, feeling only a bit less freaked out. Monica was the queen of free spirits. She didn’t have an inhibited bone in her body. Open the door naked. As if.

The next text reply came from Cam.

What to do? Enjoy the heck out of it, honey! As far as the Kama Sutra goes…well, if it was me, I’d grab a mirror and try out positions to see which ones are the most flattering. But hey, that’s me and my insecurities. Go for it. And post details tomorrow.

She turned off her phone and walked to the bathroom carrying the Kama Sutra . As she stood in front of the mirror, she looked at her reflection more closely than she had in a very, very long time. Shortly after her divorce, she’d stopped looking in mirrors completely. It had taken her several months to come to grips with the fact that Alex, her ex-husband, hadn’t left her because of her problems, but because of his. He was a shallow, self-serving asshole who ranked image above love, honor and respect in order of importance.

She was much better off without him, and she’d even developed a nagging sense of pity for his new wife, Carolyn. A leopard didn’t change his spots, and she wondered how much longer the bride behind door number two would shine bright enough for Alex to keep her around. Eventually Carolyn would be tossed aside for a newer model, and she actually felt sorry for the woman—to an extent.

Usually until she remembered finding the bitch in bed with her husband and then she just laughed with glee at the old “what goes around, comes around” saying.

Her reflection showed her just what she’d expected—a woman in desperate need of a dye job. The roots peeking out were grayer nowadays than the mousy brown of her youth. She checked beneath the sink and found a box of L’Oréal—light auburn. Thank the hair dye gods. At least she would be saved a trip to the drugstore today. Placing the box on the counter, she leaned forward, examining her face. She’d dodged wrinkles so far, although there were definite laugh lines forming around her brown eyes and full lips. She grinned ruefully.

Guess there’s nothing wrong with lines formed by laughter.

Turning around, she looked in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door.

I’d grab a mirror and try out positions to see which ones are the most flattering.

Cam’s words drifted back to her and she quickly crossed the line from mildly nervous to full-blown anxiety attack. Her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped the Kama Sutra .

Crap. She’d never be able to take her clothes off in front of Ethan. She’d seen him shirtless, wearing nothing but workout shorts during a few of their PT sessions, and to merely say the man was built was an insult to Mother Nature for blessing women everywhere with the image of his physique, his male perfection. Meanwhile, the fates had clearly been drunk the day they’d made her, putting excesses of everything…everywhere. Wide hips, huge breasts, fat ass. The only places they’d skimped on were her ankles and wrists.

She shrugged off the T-shirt and pajama shorts she was wearing and studied the profile of her shape.

Wonder if I can lose twenty pounds by seven o’clock tonight. Maybe she could find ten Kama Sutra positions that required the man to have his eyes closed.

Time to change the game plan.

Evasion tactics. Excuses. Outright lies if necessary. What to choose?

Professionalism. Ethics. Of course, it was so simple. The main reason she hadn’t put Ethan’s name on her list to begin with was because he was her patient. She couldn’t have sex with a patient.

She rushed to the phone and called him.

“That didn’t take long,” he said dryly, rather than the customary hello.

“It would be unethical for me to have sex with a patient.” She was proud of the strength and conviction in her voice. Hippocrates would have been impressed.

“I’m not your patient anymore,” he answered calmly. “Before I called you this morning, I had my medical records transferred to Dr. Philips. He’ll be doing the rest of my PT.”

“You did? He will?” She dropped down on the couch, surprise turning her legs to jelly. Damn man had thought of everything.

“I only have a few more sessions until I satisfy the stupid workman’s comp requirements anyway.”

“Oh, well…” She wasn’t sure what to say. A part of her was disappointed she wouldn’t be finishing up his sessions. He was her happy dose of eye candy. She’d actually looked forward to going to work on days when he had an appointment. Of course, if he wasn’t her patient, she didn’t have to worry about facing him the morning after what was certain to be a fiasco.

“Have you made your list?” he asked.

“No,” she replied.

“Get started on it. See you at seven.” He hung up without the customary goodbye. She was going to have to talk to him about his lack of phone manners.

Returning to the bathroom, she picked up the Kama Sutra and studied the pictures again. She immediately found ten positions that pushed all her hot buttons just to look at. Then she pictured herself as the woman, with Ethan as the man.

Aw hell. She was so screwed.

In the end, Rachel settled for what she prayed Ethan would consider sexy. She’d pulled the tags off a skimpy little black dress she had hanging in the back of her closet and underneath she’d put on the only bra and panty set she owned. The concept of matching undergarments just seemed bizarre to her, but this set was new and completely impractical from a comfort standpoint. It was also sexy as hell. It pushed her breasts up and the panties were cut low and actually looked kind of hot on her.

She’d bought the entire outfit on a whim once after she’d seen Voldemort out and about with the blonde bitch, but she’d never had the nerve to wear it out of the house. It showed way too much of her figure, way too many inches of cleavage. There was a fine line between sexy and trashy and she was never quite sure where it was. A fashion expert she was not , despite the fact she never missed an episode of What Not to Wear .

At seven o’clock on the dot, her doorbell rang. She took a deep breath as she opened the front door—awestruck by the sight of Ethan on her doorstep.

He was wearing new blue jeans and a dark green button-down shirt. He let out a catcall whistle and grinned. She felt herself blush at his appreciative look.

Then her gaze drifted down to enjoy every yummy inch of him, her eyes lingering on his muscular arms before taking in the image of his strong legs encased in the tight denim. His light chuckle forced her eyes back to his face.

“Are you going to invite me in or are we going to do this thing on the front porch?”

She rolled her eyes at his cocky tone. “I’m not so sure we’re going to do any thing at all.”

She closed the door as he walked past her, surprised when he turned and slowly pushed her forward, pressing her stomach against the wood and caging her in. She was completely surrounded by his body, his strength, and she shivered with desire when his lips brushed against her ear.

“Assume the position,” he said, his voice husky, deep, sexy as hell. “Or should I say positions ? We’re going to do so many things tonight, Rachel, you’ll need to keep a list to remember them all. Now are you going to play nice or do I need to whip out the handcuffs already?”

“You brought your handcuffs?” she asked breathlessly, the idea of being restrained one of her favorite fantasies.

He laughed softly. “Oh yeah, what kind of cop would I be if I traveled without them?”

His close proximity, the smell of his cologne, slowly eased her fears and she felt her inner minx emerging, ready to play. “What about your gun?” she asked. “Did you bring that too?” As she spoke she reached behind her, teasing his erection with her fingers to make her meaning clear.

He took her hand in his and pushed her palm firmly against the front placket of his jeans, letting her feel his undeniable arousal. “Oh yeah, baby. I brought the big gun tonight and believe me, it’s loaded and ready to roll.”

She wanted to giggle at his jest, but she couldn’t spare the breath as her body fought to draw in any air that wasn’t filled with his amazingly seductive scent.

He moved far enough away to turn her to face him. Once he had her in the position he wanted, he crowded her against the door and leaned down to kiss her.

She’d expected awkward conversation, a slow buildup, anything except the power of this moment. Ethan was kissing her, touching her with such need, such desire, she wanted to cry with the realization that she’d spent a lifetime without this feeling.

She pulled away for a second to suck in a breath. “God,” she panted. “Too much.”

“Not enough,” he muttered, gripping her head in his hands, claiming her lips once more.

She pulled him closer, her fingers digging into the material of his shirt. He deepened the kiss and she struggled to process everything that was happening to her. Her blood felt as if it were literally boiling.

This can’t be happening. Stuff like this doesn’t happen to me.

“Stop thinking,” he murmured against her lips. “Just let it happen.”

Let it happen. Let it happen.

The words played in her mind like the chorus of her favorite song as his hands left her face to cup her breasts. Why she expected him to be gentle now after the intensity of his kisses, she didn’t know, but when he roughly palmed her sensitive flesh, pinching her nipples through her dress, she had to break again for air.

“God, need…air,” she muttered as he growled, unhappy at being denied her lips. His freshly shaven face rubbed against her cheek as he descended on her neck. Damn, she loved having her neck kissed. The sensation sent a tingling feeling clear down to her toes. His hands tightened on her breasts as he covered her skin with hot, wet kisses. “Oh yeah. Right there. More,” she demanded, reaching up to run her hands through his soft, dark hair, wrapping her leg around his to pull him even closer.

Ethan pulled back at her words and she hissed.

“My fierce little kitten,” he said, attempting to take a step away from her. She followed his retreat and he gave her a husky laugh that sent her hackles up, harsh words rising to her throat. He stopped her tirade with a finger against her lips. “Hush, Doc. If we don’t stop now, I’ll take you against that door.”

She shrugged. “Sounds like a plan to me,” she said, yanking him close again.

“Not my plan,” he said, untangling her fingers from his shirt and taking her hands into his. He pulled her toward the couch before seemingly changing his mind. “Where’re the list and the book?”

“Bedroom,” she admitted, foolishly thinking if she’d kept them out of sight, she could dissuade him from his seduction plans with a calm, reasonable conversation in her living room. She’d convinced herself all day that he’d eventually come to his senses and jilt her. Barring that, she’d made a list of all the reasons why they shouldn’t embark on an affair.

As he tugged her quickly down the hallway to her bedroom, she scrambled to think of one of those damn reasons now.

Christ, she had a ton of them. What were they? Where the hell was her notebook?

Ah ha! The age difference.

“I’m way too old for you,” she blurted out as they crossed the threshold into her bedroom. Mercifully, she knew how lame her willpower was and she’d changed the sheets and hidden the pile of discarded undies.

“Says who?” he asked, turning to pull the straps of her dress over her shoulders.

“Says me,” she replied, swatting away his nimble fingers.

Undeterred by her pitiful attempts at evasion, he pulled the dress down to her waist while continuing to dodge her hands. When she realized she was practically naked from the waist up, she stood speechless for a moment as he gripped her waist and stared at her with a too-satisfied look on his face.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well what?”

“You know it’s not too late to change your mind. I could always find another guy to ‘do this thing’ with me,” she said, mimicking his words from the front porch.

He scoffed at her words, an honest-to-God scoff. “You try to find another younger guy and I’ll be forced to beat the poor bastard to a pulp. This challenge is all mine.”

She had to grin at his comment. It was so typically Ethan. Throughout his PT sessions, they’d had so many heart-to-heart discussions on such a wide variety of topics, she couldn’t begin to remember a time when she hadn’t felt as if she knew everything about him. He was open, honest and competitive as hell. Of course he would view this challenge as a game he wanted to play to win.

He reached out to tweak one of her nipples and she gasped, thrilled by the look of lust in his gaze.

“So you don’t think I’m too old for you?” she asked again, foolishly needing his reassurance.

“I think you’re hot as hell and I can’t wait to fuck your brains out.”

His words, so typically young and crude, caught her off-guard and she laughed. “Somehow I think I sort of proved a point on that one, but I’m not sure how.”

“Give me your list and take off that dress. I want to see if your panties are as sexy as that bra.” His face, his words, were too intent, too serious. She licked her lips, though not from nervousness but excitement. She’d worried about her body turning him off all day, but he genuinely seemed to like what he saw. She retrieved her Kama Sutra list, handing it to him before tackling the zipper on the side of the dress.

She studied his face as she shimmied out of the tight sheath. He didn’t look up, but instead read each position she’d listed on the page. She wished she could see his eyes, see what he thought of her choices.

“Did you list these in any particular order?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered, trying to stop herself from tackling him to the floor and having her wicked way with him. “Aren’t you going to get undressed?” Her need must have sounded in her voice because he glanced up.

“Damn. I knew it,” he murmured.

“Knew what?”

“Knew I’d never be able to escape the image of you standing there, just like that. You are so sexy, Rachel.”

“You think so?” she asked, turning slowly in a circle, grinning seductively when his gaze darkened.

“Take off the underwear and lie on your back.”

His deep voice was demanding and she suddenly understood why he was such a good police officer. Criminals must fall in line under his commanding presence. Before she could think of another item on her list of reasons to refuse him, she unhooked her bra and shed her panties.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, immediately rolling her eyes at the inane question. They were in her bedroom with a list of Kama Sutra positions. What the hell did she think they were going to do?

“I thought we’d split the bamboo first,” he replied easily. She shivered as she recalled the picture of that position. She’d chosen it because it was a fairly easy one to perform and didn’t require her to be Nadia Fucking Comaneci. Splitting the Bamboo was actually one of the least risqué of her choices. She simply needed to lie on her back while Ethan took her missionary style. The bamboo splitting was achieved when she lifted one leg straight up over Ethan’s shoulder.

She wondered why he’d chosen that one at all. Then she stopped wondering and instead felt grateful for his thoughtfulness. Some of her other choices had taken every bit of her nerve just to write on the list. By starting simply, perhaps it would make it easier to work their way up to the much more challenging positions. Splitting the Bamboo would be an easy one for them to get to know each other.

He didn’t move until she was in the proper place, then he stepped to the side of the bed. While she watched, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Each inch of bare skin revealed left her squirming and needy. He watched her movements with a pleased grin as he dropped the soft cotton to the floor.

His hands drifted down his stomach to the fastening of his jeans. As he worked at releasing the erection she could see clearly confined there, she gripped the sheets in her fists, fighting her body’s overwhelming reaction to his sexy striptease.

“Hurry up,” she whispered, not hesitating to issue a few demands of her own.

He shook his head and stopped undressing. “Are you wet?”

Heat crept to her face at his question. Her ex-husband’s idea of dirty talk was wanting to know if she’d showered before coming to bed.

“Don’t,” he said, leaning over her, his hands on either side of her head. Though he covered her completely, no part of his body brushed against hers—more’s the pity.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t think. Not tonight. Give that lovely brain of yours the night off. Tonight is about the pleasures of flesh.”

She nodded her agreement. “Pleasure sounds cool,” she said, forcing a lightness into her voice that simply wasn’t there. Every word, every move he made sunk her deeper into the well of need and desire.

He rose and repeated his question. “Are you wet?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Show me.” Her eyes must have betrayed her confusion as he clarified, “Open your legs and touch yourself. Let me see all that hot juice you’ve made just for me.”

She spread her legs apart, slowly dragging her hands along her chest, toying briefly with her breasts and reveling in making Ethan do a bit of squirming as well. As her fingers made their way along her body, he resumed his undressing and she detected a definite increase in the speed with which he moved.

This is fun.

When her hands reached the hair covering her pussy, he pushed his pants down.

Officer Russell went commando.

He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows, reminding her of her task. She dragged her hand along her slit, her fingers quickly covered with the glistening proof of her arousal.

He took his cock in his hand and she physically fought back a gasp at the sexy sight of him touching himself so intimately.

Clearly not all men were created equal and for a moment, she wondered if Ethan hadn’t gotten her ex-husband’s share of the booty as well. She chuckled to herself at the irony of that thought then quickly dismissed Alex from her mind as she watched Ethan pull his hand along his rock-hard, thick, long, unbelievably inviting cock.

“Wow,” she muttered and Ethan grinned.

“You act as if you’ve never seen a dick before,” he said lightly.

“Only one and it wasn’t even half as big as—” She stopped talking and glanced up. Ethan’s hand had stopped moving against his flesh and she wanted him to start again.

“Only one?”

She shrugged. “Um, yes?” she asked, not sure what it was about her confession that bothered him.

“You’ve only been with one man. Your ex-husband, right?”

“Of course my ex-husband,” she replied.

“How long have you been divorced?”

For a man who’d previously been ready to skip the small talk and get right to business, he sure was killing the mood now.

“Six years.”

His grin reappeared and his hand moved against his cock more roughly.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” she asked, spellbound by the sexiness of his movements.

“No. I should warn you right now, I like my sex hard and sweaty.”

As easily as that, he’d taken the temperature in the room back to something the equivalent of living on the sun.

He gestured to her hand with a nod. “Show me,” he said, repeating his earlier demand. She ran her hand along the opening of her pussy, gasping at the feeling produced by just her fingers and his hot gaze. She lifted her hand to him. He took it in his own, pulling it toward his mouth.

She cried out when his tongue cleaned each digit, sucking them one by one into his warm mouth.

“God, Ethan. That is so hot.”

He grinned. “You know what I like about you?”

She shook her head.

“Every thought you have, you say out loud.”

“And you like this?” she asked with disbelief. Most people of her acquaintance found that little habit completely annoying.

“I never have to guess where I stand with you.”

“That’s not always a good thing, you know,” she replied, and he laughed and shrugged as if unconcerned.

“Times like now, it’s a very good thing. I want you to tell me exactly how you feel tonight. Maybe it would make it more fun if you added an ‘oh yes’ or a ‘fuck me harder’ or an ‘Ethan, you’re a God’ to the end of every sentence.”

She laughed. “I’ll try to bear that in mind.”

“We could always practice now,” he added as he dropped to his knees on the floor and grabbed her thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. His hot breath caressed her aching flesh as he bent and she gasped when he placed a wet, open-mouth French kiss on her vagina.

“Holy shit,” she muttered as he chuckled.

“That’s not a bad variation either.” He repeated the kiss, lingering this time, his tongue thrusting in and out of her pussy. She fought to remain still but her traitorous hips couldn’t resist the temptation of following his mouth, his lips. His teeth teased her clit mercilessly until she cried out, “Fuck me, Ethan!”

He stood slowly and pulled a condom from the pocket of his discarded pants. He put it on while she fought the sensations pummeling her body, fighting for more.

“Oh God, please fuck me.”

Standing beside the bed, he placed the head of his cock at her wet opening and she threw her head back against the mattress. “Get inside me. Get inside me,” she demanded, unconcerned by her wayward tongue. It was clear she’d never be able to hide the truth of his effect on her body.

His push into her was too torturously slow, but every time she tried to lift her hips to take in more of him, he halted her with firm hands.

“Harder,” she begged.

He shook his head, refusing her. He was big and filling her so perfectly, she knew she couldn’t rest ’til she had every bit of him crammed inside.

“You said hard and sweaty,” she taunted.

“Too tight,” he said through gritted teeth. “Only halfway.”

Her eyes widened at his words. This was only half?

“See why I’m going slow?” he asked, sweat running down his cheek. “Six years is a damn long time, Rachel.”

He moved another inch forward and she gasped at the electrical shock that coursed through her body. “What the hell was that?”

He grinned. “Think I found your G-spot.” He moved out a bit and hit the same spot. She cried out.

“Oh yeah,” he said, rubbing along the same area until she was shaking, writhing, arching with the pleasurable sensations he was provoking inside her. “Christ, you’re gorgeous.”

She screamed as his strokes pushed her into the most powerful orgasm of her life.

“What the hell was that ?” she repeated after several moments. Her body was completely sated, utterly replete, and she felt as if she were floating on air.

“Awesome,” he whispered.

As she became more aware, she realized he was completely inside her and still hard as a rock. “You didn’t come.”

“I’m not finished. I believe you wanted to try a little something called Splitting the Bamboo.”

He reached down to grip her right ankle, pulling her leg straight up until it rested on his shoulder. As he moved her into the position, she felt his cock push even farther inside, until he was so deep she wanted to cry with relief. This was how she wanted him. How she needed him.

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded with a grin. “Gotta warn you,” he added. “After watching you come like that, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to hold back this time. My balls are about to burst.”

She laughed and reached down with her left hand to cup his testicles. He sucked in a sharp breath at her tantalizing touch. “Oh Ethan, you’re a God,” she teased as she squeezed his balls.

He laughed only briefly before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back inside her in one hard thrust. As quickly as that, her body responded and she felt another orgasm beginning to build. He paused for just a moment before repeating the motion. Each rough shove into her body was followed by a short respite. After five times, she realized he was still trying to hold back, still trying to make it last—for her.

“Fuck me,” she said during yet another pause. He looked at her closely. “No more stopping. I want you to take me hard…now.”

Her request released the dragon from his lair as Ethan gave her exactly what she asked for. On each thrust he stroked her G-spot, driving her so high she felt as if she were on top of the world. She was flying. She was soaring. For the first time in her life, she understood what all the fuss was about. Sex rocked !

“Come with me,” he demanded and she dove from the cliff, not needing to be asked twice.