Chapter Forty Two
The next Wednesday was just as cold as the previous, but with endless dreary rain. While Ophelia enjoyed running in the cold, she did not feel the same about rain. She was worried he would cancel. He didn’t. Instead, in the early afternoon, she received a text from him.
Etienne: Make sure you’re hungry tonight.
Ophelia: Are you cooking me gumbo?
Etienne: No, I’m just bringing over your frozen leftovers.
Ophelia: Hysterical.
Ophelia wondered if she should have been offering to go to his place.
He had never brought it up before. She’d been to his Uptown home once before for a pre-game.
Maybe he instinctively knew that meeting at her place would put her more at ease, letting her get to know him more on her own turf. He was considerate like that.
When Etienne arrived, he brought with him two white takeout bags full of pho. “It’s definitely pho weather,” he said, placing the food on the kitchen island.
She started opening one of the bags. “Oh my God,” she said as the heavenly scent of rich broth perfumed the air.
“You get the wine,” said Ophelia, turning to her cupboard. “I’ll get the bowls.”
“Well, wait,” said Etienne. “We need to go running first.”
Ophelia grabbed the dish towel from above the sink and threw it at him. He caught it with one hand and started spinning the towel, so it twisted up. Ophelia knew exactly what he was going to do.
“Don’t you dare, Etienne Richard, or I’ll tell your mama,” she said in mock seriousness.
Etienne’s face lit up as he reared the towel back and let it loose near the side of her leg.
THWAP. He missed on purpose, but she shrieked nonetheless.
Ophelia ran, putting the island between them as he twisted the towel up again for another shot.
He was too fast for her and faked going left before lunging right, releasing the towel again close to her thigh.
THWAP. He was being careful not to actually hit her, but she was not going to let him get away with it.
So with the sound of the third thwap, Ophelia fell to the ground and held her thigh, whimpering in pain.
“Shit! Oh my God, Ophelia, I’m so sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have been messing around with you like that. Let me see. Are you okay?”
Ophelia lay pitifully on her side, clutching her legging-covered thigh. She added a couple more whimpers to really sell it.
Etienne moved to the floor. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he whispered.
Her heart rate picked up. That was the first time he’d ever called her babe.
He gently pulled her hand away from her thigh to examine her leg.
As he leaned in, Ophelia pounced on him, shoving his back to the ground with both hands pinned to his chest.
“Gotcha,” she said, smiling triumphantly at him.
Ophelia watched as his face went from shock to pride to something else entirely.
She was straddling his waist, and her long hair had fallen forward, skimming his chest. Ophelia tracked his eyes as they dipped to her lips, then to the gap in her shirt revealing her cleavage, and back up again.
“Ophelia,” he murmured, grabbing her hips tightly, digging his thumbs into her flesh.
“You have to say when you’re ready.” He looked like he was in pain waiting for her to respond, and Ophelia could no longer hear those dreaded thoughts of fear and self-doubt.
She could only hear her heart hammering and feel her blood turning molten. She was present. Safe.
Ophelia licked her lips and hovered right above him, almost grazing the sensitive flesh of his lips.
“When,” she whispered and dipped her head in that last centimeter to lightly taste his lips.
They were soft and plump and delicious, and she desperately wanted more.
Her second taste was hungrier, and as she pressed further into him, Etienne snapped.
He shoved her hips down on to his pelvis as his tongue invaded her mouth, tasting the moan she released from the feel of his erection through his scrubs.
Ophelia grinded down on him right where she needed him.
Their kiss became more frenzied. Etienne’s hands ran up the smooth skin of her back. He moved to lift the hem of her shirt.
“Can I?” he asked, breaking the kiss.
“Yes, please,” she responded breathlessly as she raised her arms for her shirt to be removed. Cool air caressed her skin. Etienne groaned. His eyes drank in her slim neck, her breasts cradled by a delicate lace bra that highlighted two perfect mounds, then back to her swollen lips.
“God, you are so beautiful.” He moved his hands down the curves of her waist and muttered “Fuck” under his breath.
“Let me see you,” she said, pushing his shirt up, exposing his tanned torso, smattered with chest hair.
Etienne sat up and removed his shirt and then nuzzled his face into her neck, eliciting a breathless giggle from Ophelia.
He kissed down her neck, pausing to suck on her sensitive flesh.
She couldn’t handle it. Her hips began to involuntarily swirl into his erection.
“Bedroom,” she said and bit his lip. “Now.”
They ungracefully stumbled to her bedroom while their hands continued to grope at exposed flesh. She opened the door to her room, and Tigger meowed.
“Out, Tigger,” demanded Ophelia and pointed to the door. The cat meowed in response and turned over on Ophelia’s bed, exposing her belly. “I mean it, Tigger!”
Etienne chuckled. “She likes me. Let me get her.” He scooped up the miniature tiger and carried her like a babe out of the room. Ophelia was already wet, and that sight alone made her soaking.
Etienne closed the door and turned to Ophelia. “Birth control?” he asked.
“On the pill. I’m clean. You?”
“Yes.”
Ophelia kicked off her shoes and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor.
Etienne’s eyes rounded in shock, then swiftly hooded over in arousal.
He didn’t say a word. Ophelia took his silence as a cue to continue.
She pulled her black leggings past her generous hips, leaving only her black lace thong.
Etienne groaned in pain, palming his erection.
The outline of his cock was obscene against his scrubs.
“Ophelia.” He said her name like she was torturing him, and maybe she was.
She walked slowly toward him, cupping her breasts, then teasing a nipple.
She continued toward him until they were toe to toe, pressed up against each other.
Every time she breathed, her nipples grazed lightly against the hair on his chest, creating the most glorious friction.
“What do you want?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling through her. She felt her core clench.
“You.”
“How?” he asked, dragging a finger down her sternum.
“However. Just make me feel good, and don’t hold back.”
Etienne pulled her into his hardened length, and she gasped. “You think I’ve been holding back?”
“I know you have.” Ophelia nipped his ear. “But I want this. I want everything you have to give me.”
“Thank fuck,” he growled, pushing her up against the wall.
He pressed his mouth into hers and forced it open as his tongue explored her.
Tasted her. She sighed at the wonderful taste and smell of him.
His presence was all-consuming. The way his strong body felt against her soft curves.
The woodsy and salty smell of his skin. The touch of his rough palms moving from her pinned wrists, across her arms, her shoulders, her neck.
Etienne broke the kiss, panting. “Fuck. You’re so sexy.” His sinful mouth moved down her neck, sucking and kissing the sensitive flesh as Ophelia’s hands ran over the smooth planes of muscles on his back. He stopped as he reached her full breasts and stared at her in reverence.
“Ophelia, your tits. Goddamn. Do you even know how much these tits drive me crazy?” Etienne worshiped both of her breasts, kneading and sucking and tweaking her nipples into hardened peaks.
“Oh my God, Etienne, yes,” she moaned.
Ophelia was losing her mind. The sounds she emitted were lewd, but she was experiencing another level of lust and bliss that she was confident was unknown to mankind, so what did she really expect?
He sucked on her right nipple, then let it pop out of his mouth.
“Babe, Ophelia. These are the tits of my fucking dreams.” He cupped them, feeling their weight, and ran a thumb around her areola.
“I don’t think you even understand.” Etienne lapped at her nipple as if it were her clit.
She whimpered in appreciation of his tongue.
Etienne wasn’t taking. He was giving, and she wanted to take everything he gave her.
He walked her back to the bed, and Ophelia climbed on it, moving to the center. A dark chuckle fell from Etienne’s lips. “That won’t do.” He grabbed her ankle and pulled her back across the mattress to him so that her legs draped off the bed. Only her upper body was supported by the mattress.
He leaned over her and kissed down her stomach, sending chills up her spine. When he reached her sex, he hooked his finger under her lace thong and watched her expression for permission to continue.
“I said don’t hold back,” she told him with a nod.
Without hesitation, he pulled down her thong, gripped her thighs, and positioned them on his broad shoulders. He grabbed her ass with both hands, bringing her to his mouth, and breathed her in deeply before licking straight up her center.
Ophelia released a moan as pleasure consumed her. She sank further into her senses and let her mind absorb every sensation. Relinquishing all control of her own body to him, she let herself writhe and move how she wanted to, how she needed to get more.
Etienne explored her sex with such thoroughness and enthusiasm, watching for her reaction at every pass of his tongue, suck of his lips, and nibble of his teeth.
He fucked her center with his tongue, and Ophelia’s hips bucked wildly against his mouth.
He growled with approval into her pussy, eliciting another rise of her hips.
She was wet and dripping into his mouth and ready to explode.
He came up for air only once and wiped the excess wetness from his beard on the inside of her thighs.
The sensation had her grabbing for his wavy brown locks, so she could shove his head back where she needed him most. He resisted her efforts and laughed.
“You are so needy, O. I have your pussy dripping, and you need me back down there for more, don’t you?”
Ophelia groaned in frustration.
“Ask me nicely,” he said, the tips of his fingers dancing lightly over her clit.
“Please,” she begged breathlessly. “Please.”
Biting his lip, Etienne shook his head and tsked. “So goddamn needy.”
He inserted a thick finger into her, and she clenched around it as her legs trembled at the feeling of being filled.
He went back in to lick at her clit with fervor.
She could feel her orgasm floating on the periphery, but wanted to keep it at bay for a little longer to bask in everything he had to give.
He began to pump his finger in and out. He added a second, and she felt so stretched and full around him, she wasn’t sure if she could take it.
He crooked both fingers against her wall and pressed his tongue flat against her clit.
The warmth that had been building broke like a dam, and she shattered.