Heat.
Throbbing.
I wanted to fucking explode.
My back arched, nails gritting into the pillow, as Ethan lapped my most sensitive spot. I thought,This was it, this can’t feel any better, until he released one of his hands and inserted a finger inside of me.
“Ethan!” I shouted in pure bliss. His other hand came up to tweak my nipple as his tongue lapped harder, and the queen of all orgasms rocked my body. I think I blacked out, or went to another planet or something crazy. Time definitely stopped. Ethan King had magical time-stopping powers and all I was aware of was this wave of pleasure I’d been thrown into and my body never wanted to get off of. I ground my pelvis into him and rocked back and forth as the orgasm took me to other dimensions.
I’m throwing out my vibrator.
It’s broken.
Nothing will ever feel good again unless it was from his mouth.
When I finally finished, I pulled his head up to look at him.
The bastard was wearing a cocky, lopsided grin.
“I’ve wanted to do that since that first night at Mickey’s,” he declared.
Now it was my time to grin. “I forgot how to speak.”
The deep throaty chuckle that came from him left butterflies in my stomach. Leaning forward, he kissed the spot right between my breasts before pulling away. “Wash up. I’ll make dinner.”
I frowned. “What about you?”
I pointed to the giant erection tent that had popped up in his pants.
He winked. “Next time.”
Ethan was a giver, and for our first time together I’d have to say I wasn’t complaining. As he walked out of the room to make dinner, I found myself grinning.
I’d kissed another man and it felt good, it felt normal. I felt normal. That was the greatest gift Ethan could have ever given me. Second to that orgasm, which would go down in history.
* * *
Ethan and I were… dating.I think. I mean, we hadn’t talked about it, but we were definitely make-out buddies with some nightly foreplay thrown in there for good measure. It had been two weeks since my queen of all orgasms, and come to find out … they were all like that. With Ethan they were.
We hadn’t gone all the way yet; he wanted to wait until I was sure. I assured him I was five hundred-percent sure, but still he stopped before the act every time. I wasn’t complaining. We’d gotten really good at foreplay. Pleasuring each other without going all the way totally reminded me of high school.
My classes were going good, I was happy, and life was starting to feel normal for the first time in … ever. Bryce hadn’t come around after the alleyway attack, and Ethan had put up security cameras in front of the shop. The hot summer was gone, bringing the cool Arizona winter; and Ethan’s blood sugars were stable. Life was good.
I walked out from his bedroom, where I now slept most nights, unless I needed to be up late studying. He was poring over his laptop at the kitchen table.
His voice was full of excitement: “What are you doing this weekend?”
I opened the fridge and popped a grape in my mouth. “You?”
His eyes blazed and went half lidded as he took in my bare legs. “Cute. Snowbowl is opening. The boys and I are renting a cabin. Want to go skiing? You can bring Angela...”
Skiing. That simple word brought memories with Bryce with it. We went to Aspen every year with his parents to ski, and I loved being on the mountain.
“I have two shifts. I’ll see if I can get them covered,” I told him.
He nodded. Reaching out, he grabbed the hem of my big t-shirt—actually it was his shirt—and yanked me closer to him.
Plopping on his lap, I slung an arm around his neck. I wasn’t wearing a bra under this shirt but I had taken time to stop and put on undies. Not that it would matter. Ethan had a way of always taking those off, even when I thought we had no time. His hand slipped under my shirt and he ran a finger over my nipple.
