Chapter 27
Ethan
Someone is knocking on the door of the suite, and I curse at the interruption.
Though Jamie’s eyes are filled with lust, there’s uncertainty there too. I’m rock hard, my body aching for her, hoping I haven’t scared her.
A voice calls from the hallway, “Room Service.”
“Are you hungry?” I ask Jamie, the words a low growl. I barely wait for her to shake her head before calling, “Go away!”
“Wait,” Jamie says. “Let’s get the food for later.” She lifts her eyebrows. “I mean, it’s pizza and soufflé. You had it flown in.”
I turn to the door. “Fine. Come in.”
It opens slowly, a nervous-looking waiter peering inside. “Put the food on the kitchen counter,” I tell him.
He obeys quickly, and retreats. The moment the door closes behind him, I turn back to Jamie.
She’s sitting up on the pool table, rucking up her dress so she can open her thighs for me. Her hands go to my hips, and she tugs me between her legs.
Okay. I can’t have scared her. This is good. It’s fucking excellent.
But I’m so keyed up that I can’t be gentle. When I take her mouth, it’s hard and urgent. I’ve been starving for her, and I can’t wait a moment longer.
She gasps into the kiss, her hands flying up to fist my shirt, dragging me closer. I tangle one hand in her hair, tilting her head back. I need deeper. I need more.
Jamie kisses me back just as hard, her tongue meeting mine. I hear some clinks and muffled thumps from behind her, and realize she’s knocked the pool balls that were on the table and sent them rolling. Some are hitting the cushion at the other end of the table.
“I’ve disturbed the balls,” she murmurs against my mouth.
“Sweetheart,” I growl, “you have no idea.”
She laughs, yanking my shirt from my pants.
The pool table is far from the best place for what I want to do to her, but right now, I don’t care. This is fucking happening. I’m on fire for her.
I stroke her body, touching every part of her I can reach. I can’t get enough of her. As incredible as she looks in that silk dress, she’ll look even better out of it. And judging by the way she’s touching me, she feels the same. She grapples with each of my shirt buttons, working each one open.
My shirt slips down my shoulders. When I drop my arms to let it fall away, she strokes her hands over my bare chest, then rakes her nails over my abs.
She looks hungry. Like she wants to tear me apart.
“Jamie,” I groan, reaching for the zipper at the back of her dress.
She beats me to it.
It’s a blur of movement, one tug, and the silk slips down her body, pooling at her waist in a whisper.
My brain short circuits.
Jamie Jennings isn’t wearing a bra.
“Christ.” My voice is destroyed, my hands spanning her ribs as I drink her in. “Look at you.”
Her lips curl up. She looks delighted by my reaction, but hell, what did she expect? Her breasts are incredible. I cradle them in my hands, cupping, kneading, thumbing circles over her peaked nipples, worshipping their perfection.
She whimpers. It’s a soft, breathy sound that undoes me.
I press my lips to the hollow of her neck, nipping her skin. I want to consume her. To devour her. But the pool table is all wrong. She’s too high, and she’s sitting awkwardly on the cushion.
Her hands drop to my pants, fumbling for the button. I let her work it free, but before she can go any further, I grasp her wrist.
“Wait.” My voice is barely human. “First tell me you want this. I need to hear you say it.” I rest my forehead against hers, breathing hard. “Tell me.”
Her breath hitches. Then she whispers, “I want you.”
I drop to my knees.
She draws in a sharp breath, and I hold her thighs apart with both hands, stopping her from closing them. Though she’s the wrong height for my cock, she’s the perfect height for my mouth.
Her dress is still pooled around her waist, and I shove it out of the way, then kiss the inside of her thigh, loving the warmth of her skin, and the tremor that runs through her. I move slowly, savoring the anticipation, the way her body responds to me.
Another kiss, this time so high on her thigh, my cheek brushes her soaked panties. She puts her hand on my head, her fingers threading through my hair. She doesn't pull me closer, but just holds on, as if anchoring herself to me.
Looking up, I meet her gaze. What I see in her face takes my breath away.
Vulnerability. Trust. Want.
Hooking my fingers under the waistband of her panties, I move back enough so I can pull them down her legs and let them fall to the floor. Then I push her thighs back open.
She's bare before me, and the sight makes my cock strain and throb. She’s so fucking beautiful. So wet, so ready. Her breathing is ragged, her body tense with anticipation.
She’s mine.
I lick her, loving the way she shudders and cries out, and how her hand twists tighter in my hair. Those beautifully defined muscles in her thighs are quivering. When I circle her clit with my tongue, she gasps.
Gripping her hips, I hold her in place as I feast on her. I flick and tease her with my tongue while she shudders and moans. Her cries of pleasure are music to my ears, spurring me on.
I slip one finger inside her, then another, curling them upward to find that sweet spot. Her inner walls clench around me, her body arching as I work her with my fingers and my tongue.
"Oh God, Ethan..." Her voice is hoarse, her words a jumbled mess of need and desire. “I want…” She groans. “I want..."
She doesn’t need to say what she wants. I intend to discover exactly what she needs and then give it to her over and over. I’m going to wring every ounce of pleasure from her body, to take her higher than she's ever been. To take her apart and put her back together again.
I increase the pressure, the pace, my fingers pumping in and out of her while I lash her with my tongue. Her body is coiled tight, her muscles shaking. I can feel her orgasm building, a storm gathering strength.
Spreading her thighs even wider, I fit my mouth over her clit and suck it while burying three fingers inside her.
With a final, desperate cry, her body convulses. Her inner walls pulse around my fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her. I can feel her orgasm as it rips through her, a powerful force that leaves her trembling and gasping for air.
Slowly, carefully, I withdraw my fingers, pressing one last kiss to her inner thigh before rising to my feet. Her eyes are closed, her chest heaving, her body still flushed with the aftereffects of her release.
I lean over her, bracing my hands on either side of her hips, and nuzzle her ear and neck, kissing the sensitive skin below her earlobe. Her hands roam over my bare chest, her fingernails scraping the lines of my muscles.
“I want more,” she gasps, her voice still breathless. “I need all of you.”
“Fuck yes,” I whisper, “I need you too.” I lift her, and she locks her thighs around my waist, clinging to me as I carry her into the bedroom.
We hit the bed in a tangle of limbs, and I yank off the dress that’s still crumpled around her hips. I catch her thighs, hitching them high around my waist as I grind against her. I’m still wearing pants, but I want her to feel how hard I am, how urgently I need her.
Then, before I can process what’s happening, she flips me. Suddenly, I’m on my back, and she’s on top of me.
She grins down at me, her smile both wicked and beautiful. “I win,” she says. “You’re pinned.”
Her thighs are spread, her full weight pressing on my cock. The pressure feels incredible.
Plus, she’s naked. So there’s that.
My smile tugs at my lips as I let my gaze roam from her flushed face to her long hair that tumbles over her bare shoulders, to her magnificent shoulders and perfect breasts, to the splay of her hips.
And finally, to her sweet, glistening pussy, nestled against my cock as it strains against my pants.
I love the way she looks, sitting on top of me. Riding me. She’s a fucking queen.
My warrior. My battle angel.
Mine.
Gripping her hips, I drag her pussy along the fabric, massaging my cock. “Pretty sure I’m winning,” I say as she lets out a moan, her eyes fluttering shut. “And the condoms are in the nightstand.”
She opens her eyes. “What? How do you know?”
“Because I had the suite set up for us. There’s a change of clothes for you in the closet, and a selection of toiletries in the bathroom.” My mind is only half on what I’m telling her, because I’m too busy stroking her stomach, admiring its curve.
She snorts, shaking her head. “Rich people!” Then her delicious weight eases off me as she reaches over to the nightstand.
I take the opportunity to shuck off my pants and boxer briefs, and when she kneels next to me, I lie back and enjoy the sensation of her gripping me, unrolling the condom down my length. Propping my hand behind my head, I watch her smooth it into place.
“That’s it, angel,” I say.
“Angel?” She cocks an eyebrow.
“You’re my battle angel,” I tell her. “Now get back on top of me.”
She grins. “Bossy, aren’t you?” But she obeys eagerly, settling over me and rubbing her wet pussy up and down the length of my shaft.
I lock my hands around her waist to guide her. As good as it feels, I need more. I need all of her.
She rises up, positioning herself. When she pushes down, sliding me inside her, both of us groan like we’ve been starved for this moment.
“God, Ethan…”
Hearing my name like that, shuddering from her lips in a broken breathy gasp, sends fire rushing through my veins. As she moves against me, I push down on her hips, grinding her onto me. Pushing deeper inside her.
She leans backward, lifting her face and tossing her hair back as she rides me, her body clenched tight around me. I thrust my hips up, wanting more. Needing more.
My fingers find the place where we’re joined, and she lets out a cry, her nails biting into my chest.
Then her nails drag down my sides, her whole body tightening. “Ethan—” She clenches around me, my name a shattered prayer on her lips.
Her entire body shudders, and she cries out again and again as her orgasm rolls over her.
I force back my own release, holding back the insistent wave that’s threatening to drag me with her.
Not yet.
Not yet.
First, I need to watch how the pleasure consumes her face.
Her parted lips. Her flushed cheeks. Her scrunched-up eyes. I savor every moment as she pants for breath, her body shaking and trembling, her expression full of wonder.
This.
This is everything I want. Everything I need. Right here, in this perfect, wonderful moment.
And when Jamie lets out a final, exhausted sound, totally wrung out, only then do I let my own release take me. Only then do I pull her down to me so I can pulse into her with her body pressed against mine.
As the pleasure rushes through me, I curl a hand into her hair, holding her close.
The way we fit together feels inevitable. Like we were made for this. Made for each other.