A week is so not a long time. Why I answered him, I have no idea other than it was part and parcel of what you got with Ethan. He demanded answers, he asked pointed questions, he just had a way about him that was nearly impossible for me to ignore when he probed into places I didn’t want him to go. “Months,” was my answer and as detailed as he would get right now.
His face relaxed. “So…is that a yes?” He rolled fully on top of me and trapped my hands intertwined with his, his knees splitting my legs wide open so he could settle in between them. “Because I want you again. I want in you again. I want to make you come with my c**k so deep you’ll never forget I was there. I want to come inside you, Brynne, and feel that with you.” I could feel him huge right now; hard, hot, probing me, and ready to sink in all the way. And vulnerable as I was beneath him, in this moment I’d never felt more secure.
He kissed me deep, his tongue claiming me like before. It was a demonstration of what he wanted to do with his cock. I understood him very clearly most of the time. Ethan was not confusing in the slightest.
“I trust you, Ethan, and you won’t get me pregnan—”
“Fuck…yeeees,” he moaned on a thick slide of his bare c**k against the still tingling walls of my sex. “Oh, baby, you feel so good. I’m—I am so f**king lost in you right now…”
And that was how it went with him the second time. He moved slower this round, more controlled like he wanted to savor the experience. It was no less satisfying either because Ethan made me come more times until I was nothing but a limp vessel for his driving flesh.
He felt bigger inside me, harder, his balls slapping my drenched slit with every slide, and then he froze, his spine curving on a beautiful downward penetration that connected us so deeply I felt he was a part of me in that instant.
Ethan choked out my name and stayed buried just like he’d said he wanted to, and then a few, small, short jerks to milk everything from his tip until he stopped completely, breathing heavy and still between my legs.
He sucked lightly at my neck as I stroked over his back, the smooth muscles hot and damp with sweat. The room smelled like sex and whatever his delicious cologne was. I really needed to find out the name of it. I felt uneven ridges under my fingertips. Lots of them. Like scars? He shifted off me and my hands fell away. I knew better than to ask.
But he didn’t go far. Ethan moved to his side and propped himself up and stared at me some more. “Thank you for that,” he whispered, tracing my face with one fingertip, “and for trusting me.” He smiled at me again. “I love that you’re here in my bed.”
“How long has it been since someone was in this bed with you, Ethan?” If he could ask, then so could I.
He grinned, looking very smug. “It’s been since…never, my darling. I don’t bring women here.”
“Last I checked I was a woman.”
He raked suggestive eyes over my body before answering. “Definitely a woman.” He met my eyes. “But still, I don’t bring other women here.”
“Oh…” I sat up against the headboard, pulling the sheet to my br**sts. How in the hell is that not a lie? “That surprises me. I would think that you’d get more offers than you could possibly use.”
He tugged the sheet down and revealed my br**sts. “Don’t destroy my view, please and the operative word is use, my sweet. I don’t care for being used and women use men just as often as the other way ‘round.” He curled up beside me against the headboard and traced over a breast with one finger. “But I don’t mind if you use me. You get a special pass.”
I snorted and removed his hand. “You are far too handsome for your own good, Ethan—and you know it. That British charm will not get you a free pass with me on any day.”
He made a sarcastic noise. “And you are one tough Yank. I thought I was going to have to pick you up and throw you in my car that night.”
“It’s fortunate you didn’t or this nice shag we’ve just enjoyed? Never would’ve happened.” I shook my head slowly with a smile.
He tickled me at the ribs and made me squeal. “So it was just a nice shag for you, huh?”
“Ethan!” I batted his hands away and scrambled to the edge of the bed.
He dragged me back and pinned me beneath him, a huge grin on his face. “Brynne,” he drawled.
And then he kissed me. Just slow and soft and gentle, but it felt intimate and special. Ethan settled me against his side and adjusted our bodies under the sheets, his heavy arm draped over and securing me. I felt myself grow sleepy in the warm bed with him. I knew it was a bad idea. Rules are rules and I was breaking them.
“I shouldn’t stay the night, Ethan; I really need to go…”
“No, no, no, I want you here with me,” he insisted, speaking into my hair.
“But I shouldn’t—”
“Shhhhhhh,” he interrupted me like he had many times before and kissed my words away. He stroked over my head, trailing his fingers through my hair. I couldn’t fight him. Not after tonight. The security felt too wonderful, my body too drained from all the orgasms, his hard strength too comfortable for me to battle him on the issue. So I slept.
…The terrors are real. They come in the night when I sleep. I try to fight them but they nearly always win. Everything is dark because my eyes are closed. But I hear the sounds. Cruel words about someone, disgusting words and names. And terrifying laughter… They think it’s funny to degrade this person. My body feels heavy and weak. Still I hear them laughing and replaying all of the evil they have done…
I woke up screaming and alone in Ethan’s bed. I figured out where I was when he came crashing into the bedroom, eyeballs wide. I started crying the minute I saw him. The sobs just got louder when he sat on the bed and grabbed me.
“It’s okay—I’ve got you.” He rocked me against his chest. Ethan was dressed and I was still naked. “You just had a bad dream, that’s all.”
“Where did you go?” I managed to ask in between gasps.
“I was just in my office—these f**king Olympics—I work at night lately...” He pressed his lips to my head. “I was right here the whole time until you fell asleep.”
“You should have taken me home! I told you I wouldn’t stay the night!” I struggled to get out of his arms.
“Christ, Brynne, what is the problem? It’s two a.m. in the bloody morning. You are exhausted. Can’t you just—why won’t you sleep here?”