Coldhearted Boss(69)
His hand curves around my ribcage so reverently my knees buckle, and it’s just as well because I want to be down there with him. I want to feel his broad tan chest, still bare from a day at the lake. His swim trunks are long dry and their cool material brushes against my panties as I nestle myself down onto his lap. I’m barely there for a moment before his hand slides around my back and he brings me in for a hug.
A hug.
An embrace that crushes me against him so tightly I think his toned arms might break me in two.
My eyes squeeze closed as I bury my face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in like I’m trying to absorb him through the air, but it’s not enough. I need more. I press a chaste kiss to his neck then one below his smooth jaw, and I’m about to press another kiss to his cheek when a growl escapes from deep in his chest and he yanks me back, sealing our mouths together.
A kiss that starts out hard and heavy only grows hotter. Scorching. His mouth slants over mine and I’m a hungry little minx—clawing at his skin, biting his lip, writhing against him.
His tongue touches mine and my entire body seems to clench in response.
Our kiss is unending and I can feel his hard length underneath me and I don’t sit still like I should. I brush back and forth along him as if I’m giving him a seductive lap dance. It works me up, moving on him like this, finally giving in to the urge to touch him like I’ve wanted to for all these weeks.
My hands are everywhere, roving over the ridge of hard muscle along his shoulders, sliding down his toned arms until our hands meet, warm palm against warm palm, our fingers entwining. He kisses me deeper as he squeezes once and then he lets go so his strong hands can move over my body, feeling my curves with greedy possession.
A ripple of pleasure runs through me as he gathers the sides of my t-shirt and yanks it up over my head. He flings it aside and for all I know it’s kindling now, but what do I care because his hands cover my bare breasts—finally—and he palms their heavy weight almost angrily, like he’s been waiting ages to have them in his grasp and his patience is all used up. I feel him grow harder, feel the resulting shudder as I reach between us and brush my hand across his length. Even with his swim trunks on, the thick ridge feels large and intimidating in my small hand.
I stroke him tentatively, imagining what it’ll feel like when he slides inside me, stretching and filling me. Our kisses start to burn hotter as his hands grow more and more impatient, toying with me.
I work my hand faster, stroking him lazily back and forth, and then suddenly he picks me up off him and sets me down on the blanket so he can crawl over me, covering my warm skin with his. His hands are on either side of my head and he keeps his weight off me just enough that I won’t be crushed but not so much that his chest isn’t brushing against my breasts, teasing me. He dips down to kiss my lips and then leans back so the breeze cools my flushed skin. Then his lips fall to my neck and I lift my chin and tangle my fingers in his hair. Down he goes, his lips caressing my collarbone and shoulder. Then they touch the tip of my breast and he delivers a gentle kiss there as well. I arch up off the blanket, yanking him back down, wanting more. His mouth covers me hungrily, eating me up, switching to the other side and bestowing the same sucking, teasing, hot kisses there as well.
I’m going to shatter apart if we continue, and yet the word “stop” no longer belongs in my vocabulary. There is only yes, please, and keep going.
We started this so long ago in that bathroom at the bar, and tonight, we’re going to finish it. There’s frantic talk of logistics like condoms and birth control and I’ve never been so worked up, so in a frenzy, so close to breaking into pieces that I think I’ll die if we stop now. I think my heart will explode inside of me and I’ll cease to exist.
Thank God he agrees we can’t wait. Thank God his fingers are dipping past the hem of my panties, over my wetness, and he swirls once…again…one last time before he pushes lower and sinks a long finger inside me. My eyes squeeze closed and my hands are in his hair as he pumps in and out.
Words leave my lips, but they’re nothing I hear. They’re pleas for him to continue, protests when he pulls out and leaves me longing.
He chuckles and then his hands are on either side of my panties. I almost expect him to rip them to shreds with an angry growl, but he sits up on his knees and tugs them down so achingly slow that I know his attention is caught between my legs even if I’m too shy to look and confirm it.
My eyes are still squeezed shut as his lips press against the inside of my thigh.
“Sweetest thing,” he murmurs before his mouth moves higher and he licks. My toes curl and my hips buck up off the blanket and he clamps me back in place with his arm, making it so even when I try to rock forward to meet his lips, I can barely move.
He has a mouth made for sin as evidenced by how skillfully he laps me up. He stays right there between my thighs until I gather the courage to open my eyes, until I look down and meet his gaze. With our eyes locked, his hands grip my thighs and he presses gently, parting me even more as his tongue swirls in a tight circle over and over and over. It’s that combination of movements that has me catapulting toward an orgasm I’m helpless to fend off, a release that feels like it’s been in the works for half my life.
I roll my hips against him, soaking up every bit of pleasure I can wring out for myself, and still, he’s relentless. My oversensitive skin begs for a reprieve. My body shakes as if unsure of how to continue, but Ethan takes the reins for the both of us. He leans back so he’s hovering over me again. One of his fingers slides into me slowly, replacing his mouth. Then another. The pair of them is nearly too much, but I don’t dare tell him to stop.