I lift my hips, helping him slide the leggings down my legs. When I’m left in just my underwear—plain black cotton, nothing special—I feel a moment of insecurity.
“You’re overdressed,” I point out, deflecting.
“Easily fixed.” He stands, unbuttoning his jeans with maddening slowness.
“Are you putting on a show right now?”
“Is it working?” He grins, shoving his jeans down.
His jeans hit the floor, revealing black boxer briefs that do nothing to hide how much he wants me. The sight makes my mouth go dry.
“Like what you see?” he asks, voice teasing but with an undercurrent of vulnerability I wasn’t expecting.
“Very much,” I admit, reaching for him. “Come here.”
He crawls back onto the bed, hovering above me. The weight of him, the heat radiating from his skin, makes everything else fall away.
“Can I?” he asks, fingers hooking into the waistband of my underwear.
I nod, lifting my hips. “Please.”
He slides them down slowly, eyes never leaving mine. When I’m completely bare beneath him, he takes a moment just to look at me, and I resist the urge to squirm under his gaze.
“You’re staring again,” I whisper.
“Because you’re beautiful,” he says simply, like it’s an irrefutable fact. “Every part of you, especially your perfect pussy.”
I giggle.
“Ethan!”
His hand trails up my leg, from ankle to thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. When his fingers finally reach where I want them most, I can’t help the sound that escapes me.
“Still adequate?” he teases, circling lightly.
“Shut up.” I laugh, the sound transforming into a gasp when he increases the pressure.
“Make me.”
I pull him down for a kiss, swallowing his laugh as his fingers work magic between my thighs. He knows exactly how to touch me now, remembers every response from last weekend, and uses that knowledge ruthlessly.
“Better than adequate?” he murmurs against my lips.
“Getting there.” I gasp, then cry out when he slides two fingers inside me.
“Just getting there?” His thumb finds that perfect spot, circling with maddening precision. “How about now?”
“Ethan, please?—”
“Please what?” But his voice is strained now, his control fraying at the edges.
“I need you. All of you. I mean… let's…do it.”
Oh god. Is this hot for him? Am I totally messing this up?
“Condom?”
“Bedside drawer,” I manage.
