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A mistake. Because Ethan senses it immediately.

He pulls back and leans close to my ear, his voice teasing.

“Wasn’t that what you said you wanted earlier?” He nips my earlobe after licking it slowly, sending another jolt of lust down my spine. “Changed your mind?”

Of course he knows exactly what to say, exactly how to provoke me, how to set me on fire.

One of my hands wraps around his cock without hesitation, moving up and down in a rhythm that feels natural, each stroke propelling a deep pulse of pleasure through both of us.

He throws his head back, groaning roughly, and I take it as confirmation that I’m doing exactly what he wants.

“Okay, let’s play then,” he murmurs, his hand sliding between my thighs, moving slowly upward until it finds my wetness.

The friction makes me gasp softly, need spreading and pulsing between my legs, and when he realizes I’m not wearing panties, a low chuckle vibrates against my throat.

“You knew this would happen,” he says, a hint of admiration threading through his tone.

“I told you I came for sex,” I answer breathlessly, my voice trembling with need, my core already soaked, aching, unable to take his teasing any longer. “Now shut up and fuck me.”

I increase the pace of my hand, and he finds my clit, stroking it slowly, every movement sending shivers through me, making my body tremble as I glide my thumb over the tip of his cock.

He seizes the moment, slipping a finger inside me, and my back arches instantly. My head falls back, and a breathless moan escapes me, his lips pressing against my neck.

I won’t last much longer like this. I need him inside me now. But before I can say it, he grips my hair, tilting my head back while pushing another finger deeper into me, his thumb firmly against my clit.

My breath catches, my entire body tightening, responding to him. And then it hits—my climax crashing over me like a tidal wave, my muscles clenching around him, and I bite his shoulder to muffle the sounds threatening to spill out.

“Fuck,” is all I hear him groan before I feel him align himself with my entrance, rolling on a condom with practiced ease.

One of his hands slips between my legs again, stroking my clit slowly while the other positions his cock, the scent of him—warm, intoxicating—filling my senses, grounding me in the moment.

Then, in one powerful thrust, he pushes into me.

Unlike the first time, there’s no pain—only overwhelming sensitivity, every nerve alive, every movement sending waves of pleasure through me, making me gasp and tremble against him.

Still riding the aftermath of my orgasm, my body feels raw, open, desperate for more, the stretch of him, the fullness, the way he moves inside me consuming me completely.

Jesus. This man is making me lose my mind. He owns me entirely.

And that terrifies me.

TWENTY-TWO

Ethan

I knew it wasn’t a good idea to kiss her. I’d known it the last time too, that’s why I avoided it. Even then, it took every ounce of control I had just to resist.

But now that she kissed me first, she basically gave the signal, and I don’t want to stop. Even knowing—right now—that it’s a bad idea.

Just like I knew when I saw her at my door, when my phone pinged with a motion alert and I watched her climb the steps in real time through the security app before ringing the bell, that opening the door was a bad idea.

Just like I knew letting her spend another night with me was a bad idea. Or rather, letting myself have another night with her. It could get complicated, and I don’t need that.

Except for Irina, I’ve never had sex with the same person more than once—not even in my teenage years. I’ve never had a relationship; I’ve never cared to try.

I’ve never found anyone who makes me want that. And I don’t even want it. I don’t have the time.

Irina just happens to always be there when I need a break, when I want a quick escape, when I need to detach from everything. Every time with her happens at the office or some work-related event, whenever one of us feels the urge.