Twisting her head, she gave him a saucy look. “You could describe it to me.”
“My cock is dark and engorged, sandwiched by the pale cheeks of your bottom.” Lust thickened his voice. “I’m thrusting my shaft against your crack, and your back arches every time I do it. Like you cannot get enough.”
“It feels so naughty,” she breathed.
He thrust harder, his steely length stimulating forbidden nerves. With each incursion, his bollocks collided with her swollen sex, the weighted smacks rumbling up her spine. The sounds of their mating agitated the horses, who seemed restless, whinnying softly.
“But you like it.” Ethan’s look was wickedly knowing. “You’re drenching me. I think I know what you would love even more.”
She felt the wide head of his cock lodge against the entrance of her pussy. He didn’t push inside, just teased her by rubbing his tip up and down her slit. Pure want poured through her. She needed to know what it would be like to be fully possessed by him. To hold the man she loved inside her body.
“Do it.” She met his gaze, letting him see her desire. “I want you inside me, Ethan.”
His pupils flared with arousal. “Not until you and I discuss our future.”
Frustration knotted her insides. “There cannotbea future between us.”
“Why? Tell me, Xenia.Trust me.”
At the same time, he pushed. Not all the way, just enough for her to feel how huge he was, how his cock would stretch her and fill her and take away the emptiness. Just enough to make her burn even hotter…wait.
Burn. Is something burning?
She straightened, sniffing the air. “Ethan, do you smell that?”
“Yes. Smoke. Something’s burning.”
Brows drawn, he pulled away, quickly donning his clothes and helping her with hers. A grey haze was filtering into the stables, the horses whinnying and stamping in agitation. Ethan rushed out of the stables with her at his heels. In the far corner of the garden, a blaze lit the night.
“The gazebo,” Xenia said in shock.
The structure was engulfed in flames, the cupola flickering like a candle.
“Sound the alarm and alert the others,” Ethan ordered.
He was already running toward the inferno.
By morning, all that remained of the gazebo was a charred section of railing. The rest had been reduced to ashes, which blanketed the nearby hedges like dirty snow. On the bright side, they’d managed to contain the damage, and Xenia made note to remind Ethan of that as she approached him. He was speaking with the Hirschfield brothers, the three men surveying the smoldering ruins with somber expressions. Tension was carved into every rigid line of Ethan’s lean form, and for once even he had shadows under his eyes.
The Hirschfields nodded politely at her before departing.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting,” she began.
“We were done.” Ethan looked at her, then raised his brows. “Do you have something to tell me?”
“Would you prefer the good news or the bad news first?”
“There is more bad news?”
Given the situation, she was glad that he was still capable of dry humor.
“Berta left,” she said. “She is convinced that Bloody Thom means to destroy the manor and everyone in it. She thinks that the burning of the gazebo was part of the curse—the part where ‘his cry for justice is like a flame,scorching all with unholy fire.’Nothing I said could dissuade her.”
After a pause, Ethan asked, “Doyouthink it was Bloody Thom behind this?”
“In this instance, no.”
“Why not?”
