Chapter 24 #2
His grip was firm, and his thumb flicked over my hardened nipple, all while his mouth teased the other. I wove my fingers through his hair, holding his head in place as he feasted on me. My heart raced. My skin flushed. I fell deeper under his spell.
He used his hold to push my breasts together, allowing him to drag the tip of his tongue across my skin, gliding from one nipple to the other and back again.
It felt so good, but getting to watch him do it too? It left me breathless.
He sucked, hollowing his cheeks, and I felt the pull of it everywhere, but strongest between my legs. I ached for satisfaction, so I rocked my hips, grinding against the bulge that was growing hard beneath the fly of his pants. The rub of my body against his was so pleasurable, we gasped together.
I did it again, and again, and again—
His hands abandoned my bare breasts so he could capture my waist and lock me in place. “Fuck,” he growled. “You want me to come in my pants?”
I grinned in surprise, then shook my head.
His dark eyes were scorching as he gave me the gaze I’d begun to hunger for whenever we weren’t together. No man had ever looked at me this way, and I’d never want another man to try. It wouldn’t compare.
Ethan’s expression burned with lust. Passion. Desire.
“Do you want to move to the bed?” I asked and glanced beyond him to the king-sized bed that was maybe eight feet from the couch.
“Too far away,” he said, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “I think I’ll fuck you right here.”
I nodded eagerly because this was the best plan I’d ever heard. “Okay.”
Our mouths collided, our tongues slicking together, and his arms banded around me.
I held on while he lifted and turned us on the couch, laying me down on my back across the seat cushions.
He stood beside me, tore his shirt up over his head, and planted one knee between my legs, moving to get on the couch.
I’d thought this was the best idea ever, until I remembered how enormous he was, but—whatever. I was sure we’d figure it out. I latched my fingers on the button at his fly, undid it, and tugged the zipper down in the time it took him to reach for the button to my pants.
As he began to undo it, I shoved my hand inside his pants, beneath the waistband of his underwear, and wrapped my fingers around him. He was so warm, and thick, and hard. I gave him one long, slow stroke and enjoyed the way he jerked and flexed inside my grip.
“Shit,” he groaned. “You’re making it really hard for me to stay on task.”
I hesitated. “What?”
He finally popped the button on my slacks and inched the zipper down. “I didn’t get to finish what I started in South Africa.” His expression dripped with sex. “Remember? When I had my mouth,” his fingers delved inside to touch me through my underwear, “right here?”
I wanted to keep looking at him, but my eyes fell shut and I shuddered with pleasure. It wasn’t just the sensation of his fingers stroking me, but the memory of the morning in the hotel bathroom where his tongue had brought me right to the brink of orgasm.
But since I had my hand inside his pants, I could feel the sudden quiver from his pocket as his phone began to vibrate. It was long and incessant, telling me this wasn’t a call.
It was an alarm.
He froze, and as soon as he processed what was happening, he straightened. It caused him to pull away, and the atmosphere in the room abruptly cooled.
“Wait,” he said. He tugged the phone free from his pocket, disabling the alarm, and whatever he saw on screen, he didn’t like it. “Shit.”
His expression filled with an emotion it took me a moment to place.
Remorse.
No, I wanted to whine.
“I . . . have to get to Rome.”
I lay across the couch, draped an arm across my bare breasts, and shot him an incredulous look. “When? Right now?”
“Yes. I set an alert so I don’t miss my flight. I’m sorry. I have to go.”
My body refused to move. It meant I remained on the couch as he quickly climbed off and began to do up his pants.
“What about our deal?” I demanded.
His movements temporarily slowed, distracted with thoughts, but then he bent and fished his shirt off the floor. “I’ll hold up my end, I promise. But there isn’t time right now.”
Frustration stiffened my muscles, but I fought through it, did up my pants, and scrambled to sit up. As he tugged his shirt into place, anger began to spiral through me.
Had Ethan just played me? He’d gotten what he wanted. Gotten me to open up about my past, and now he was going to walk away without doing the same.
He took a knee beside the couch, retrieved my shirt, and handed it to me, but I said nothing.
He could tell I was upset, and he frowned.
“I don’t want to go, and trust me, I had every intention of talking.
But . . . we got distracted.” He gave a sad smile.
“As I’ve mentioned, I find you terribly distracting. ”
I could see he wasn’t lying, but I was worked up, and I didn’t like that he was throwing some of the blame my direction. “Whatever.”
I pulled on my shirt, expecting him to stand and head for the door, but he didn’t. He stared at me, wearing a conflicted expression.
My tone was the perfect balance of bitter acceptance. “I thought you had to go.”
He delivered another one of his abrupt kisses, moving too fast for me to refuse. His lips were like a drug, lulling me in, but just when I was ready to forget about everything else, it ended.
“I swear I’ll tell you, Olivia.” He sounded out of breath, like pulling away from me took a tremendous amount of effort. “For now, go ahead and add it to our unfinished business.”