Both our chests rose and fell at different rhythms, and I expected him to push off me and leave. But he didn’t. Ethan stood at the end of the mattress and withdrew his boxers entirely. Perfect skin glowed against the small sliver of the moons light, revealing abs sculpted by God. Pure. Faultless. Untouched by ink and a needle. Dark blue eyes blazed in the night, boring into mine with a silent plea as he gripped my ass and dragged me to the foot of the bed.
With two hands, Ethan guided my legs open and lapped his greedy tongue from bottom to top, and my hips helplessly curled into his mouth, begging for it. His stubble grazed the insides of my thighs, and his tongue darted out over my clit before moving back down. My body shook against him, unwilling to pull away. “You’re so fucking sweet,” he moaned. “Come for me, Mia.”
Ethan pushed two fingers inside, and my walls gripped around them, completely willing. Teeth scraped against my clit, and I slammed my eyes shut to imagine green eyes, brown hair, and inked skin before I finally climbed back up to the place I’d been trying so hard to reach. But right before I busted, Ethan completely stopped, taking everything away.
The sound of a condom wrapper tearing ripped an ache in my heart. Ethan stood and pressed his thick condom-covered cock against my entrance while his hand moved over my clit, rolling the knot of nerves between two fingers. “Your move, Jett,” he challenged, and my heart pounded out of my chest.
Kissing him was out of the question. Fucking him was out of the question. He managed to take advantage of me while my guard was down, and though my body cried for release, my mind stayed fucked in this teased turmoil. Ethan’s hands moved over my hips, and he jerked his hips forward, him and the tip of his cock testing me.
I lowered my hips, and his shaft slid back through my soaked center, and Ethan frowned but didn’t stop his movements. “Let me get inside you.”
Shaking my head, the burn erupted behind my eyes as my chest tightened and I tried to catch a steady breath. I snapped my legs closed and rubbed my hands over my face, fighting the tears threatening to pour.
Then there was no fucking use.
My confused body shook as the hot tears spilled from my eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” I cried out. “I love him.”
“Yeah, I fucking got that.” Ethan bent over and picked up his boxers, shoving his legs back through. “What the hell was I thinking?” He laughed, but hurt laced each breath that followed.
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right about that. I don’t. It’s fucking cool. I’ll be alright … but you?”—He shook his head before pulling his shirt over his head— “Oliver Masters will be the cause of your undoing. It’s in his fucking blood. I read his bloody file. He doesn’t know any different, ruins everything he touches. And you, Jett … you’ll be just another fucking tally.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said through gritted teeth.
He snatched his pants off the desk chair and shrugged a shoulder as he chuckled. “Yeah, okay. I’m a bloody liar.” He stood over me fully clothed as I laid over my mattress completely naked and body shaking. His eyes roamed over me. “Tell me this, yeah? When was the last time he made you feel like that? When was the last time he touched you like I do? Tell me, Mia. Help me understand! When was the last fucking time he gave you pleasure over pain?”
I jolted upright until both feet hit on the marble. My hands pushed against Ethan’s flexed chest once, but he didn’t budge. “Get out!”
“Careful, Jett,”—Ethan took a step back— “You’re pushing away the only person left who gives a damn about you.”
“I said, get out!”
Ethan opened the door and something on the ground caught his eye. He bent down and swiped it up with his back to me as I scanned the room for a shirt. When he turned around, I’d just gotten the plain white tee over my head when he tossed the object at me.
After catching it mid-air, I opened my hand, and my heart plummeted when my eyes fell upon the origami rose, imperfectly pieced back together. My eyes glossed over, and my chin trembled. The tips of my fingers filtered through its leaves when Ollie’s handwriting appeared.
There are cracks, but now the light can shine through.
Chapter Fifteen
“Call me acriminal,
killing herheartache
with unsteadyhands and
lips shaped likea knife.”
—Oliver Masters
Ollie.
OVER THE LAST WEEKEND, I slumped it with Zeke.
Hid from the world.
