Reckless(43)

Then the other.

Until I feel the breeze on my bare skin.

When he glances down this time, his hungry groan flares the delirium burning in my veins.

“Fuck, you have an incredible body.”

His fingers ghost over me, test the weight of me in one big palm, before he squeezes my breast.

God, yes.

Harder.

Like he senses what I need, he complies until his fingers almost bruise, where his hold rides that border between pleasure and pain.

Perfection.

I let out a sigh of delight and pull him closer. His powerful thigh wedges between mine, and everything pulses in me when I feel him hard and thick against my hip.

Wordlessly, I undo the buttons of his shirt because I need to feel his heat against mine. When his shirt is off, all I can do is admire his strength that doesn’t come from obsessing in the gym but from long hours working on his ranch. From his dedication to his family business. And damn if that doesn’t make me like him more.

Strained muscles bend and flex over me as he settles himself fully between my legs, the weight of him nearly making my eyes roll back in my head.

Which is when I realize how much larger he is than anyone I’ve ever been with.

Above me, his beautiful broad shoulders blot out the stars and sky. His hand stretches across the expanse of my stomach. I have to wiggle my hips to make him fit between my thighs.

Who says you can have too much of a good thing?

It’s not possible.

Because Ethan feels divine.

Hard to my soft. Rough to my smooth.

I breathe in his cologne and the scent of leather that clings to his skin before our mouths connect, and I indulge in languid, deep kisses that turn fierce and desperate.

When we break apart, he dips his head to my neck and takes one long suck that has me moaning into the quiet night.

It’s too much and not enough.

I writhe beneath him, out of my mind when he palms my thigh and thrusts against me. Out of my mind when he sucks my nipple into his hot mouth. Out of my mind when he reaches between my legs.

An appreciative growl rumbles in his chest.

“I love that you’re so wet,” he mutters against me.

Of course I’m wet. I want to tell him how much he turns me on, but my mouth can’t form words.

Leaning back, he bunches my skirt at my waist and traces the damp fabric between my legs again.

When he pulls the pink lace to the side, I spread my legs more and let him look.

I want him to look.

I want him to see what he does to me.

“Love this, baby. Love that you’re bare,” he groans.

His eyes stay pinned to where his finger rubs me in small circles.

“Oh, my God.” My breath stutters, and I reach for my breasts to pinch my nipples, wanting that bite of pain.

I’m close.

So close that when he slides a thick finger into me, I gasp.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” The word leaves my lips, increasing like a crescendo when he adds a second finger.

But it’s the first swipe of his tongue that leaves me breathless.

My chant grows louder. Unintelligible. A guttural garble of pleasure and pleading.

I thread my fingers through his hair and hold him to me. Brazenly lift my hips for more. Tense and strain as I climb.

Until I’m on the edge.

The sound of him licking me seems so dirty but feels so right that I can’t help but cry out when he finds that perfect rhythm—filling me deep and hard but stroking me so softly with his wet mouth.

In a burst, I come apart, the dark sky turning a brilliant white behind my clenched eyes.

It’s a long minute before I can move, during which a million emotions bubble up behind my breastbone.

The most urgent one crystallizes when Ethan moves over me.

I want more.

So much more than one night.





24





Ethan





Let me just say that when a beautiful woman comes apart in your arms, it makes you take stock of your life.

A few weeks ago, I was miserable. No two ways about it. Miserable that I hadn’t been able to keep my family together. Miserable that I was working so much. Miserable that life hadn’t turned out the way I planned.

Right now, though? Despite the painful erection biting into the zipper of my jeans, I feel pretty damn content.

Tori pants, laughing, the sound musical.

Wiping my mouth with my forearm, I slide down next to her and pull her close.

She nestles into me, wrapping her arm around my neck and throwing her leg over my thigh. I caress the smooth expanse of her back, enamored by her soft skin and the sweet scent of her hair.

Clearing my throat, I tell her the truth. “I’m not sure if messing around in my truck in the back pasture is the most romantic thing ever or supremely low-class.”

She hums. “That’s easy. Super romantic and adventurous. And I love adventures.”

I chuckle, completely charmed by her free spirit. “Noted.”

Tori is so unlike the women I’ve been with before. I wasn’t lying when I told her she wasn’t really my type. Why I’ve always dated high-maintenance women is beyond me, because being with this girl who is laid-back and fun is fucking addictive. Allison would’ve died twice had I suggested cuddling in the back of my truck under the stars.