“Ethan,” I groan. He releases my hand and continues to my underwear. While I love his mouth, I want something else tonight. I want him inside me. “I need you.”
“Patience, baby. I’ll get you there.” He chuckles as he continues his featherlight kisses along my thighs, spreading me open and priming me for the next act in his seduction. Ethan is seducing me when he already owns my body. His mouth comes to my center, and he licks upward, a slow lap, a deep tease. Then he begins feasting in earnest, devouring me with that thick tongue. I purr and mewl, arching my back and rocking my hips. I’m making love to his mouth as he prepares me to make love to him.
I break easily, the orgasm seizing me like a wave lapping up the shore of the lake. The sensation takes its time to roll back.
With a final kiss, Ethan lifts and climbs over my body. A hand brushes back my hair, combing into the length spread around my head.
“We don’t need to go any farther than we’ve already been, but Ella, there’s nothing I want more than to sink into you and make love to you.”
My eyes close with the tenderness in his voice.
“I want that, too.” I need this from him. I want to prove to myself I can do this, but I also want to give myself to him. This is my show of gratitude for his understanding and acceptance. Soft cotton swipes across slick skin, and I feel the length of Ethan protruding beneath his boxer briefs. The tease confirms his desire. He groans before he stills.
“I have condoms in my room. I’ll be right back.” He makes to move, but I clutch at his backside, stopping his retreat.
“That sort of breaks the momentum here.” I chuckle, dismissing his leaving me.
“I promise I’ll pick up right where I left off,” he assures me, shifting to my side and running a hand down the center of my body. The heel of his hand comes between my breasts and works down my middle. “I didn’t think this through. This wasn’t the plan this evening.”
“What was the plan?” I tease.
“Dinner. Dancing. Kissing.”
“Okay, we can stop.” His eyes leap up to mine, and he stills, but I can’t fight the smile. If he stops where we are headed, I will reconsider smothering him in his sleep. His mouth crashes into mine, and he presses against me again, taunting me.
“Really want me to stop this?” he mutters against my lips as he rocks against my thigh. His hand slips lower, cupping me where I’m most sensitive.
“No,” I groan, wrapping my arms around his back and lowering my hands along his spine until I reach the edge of his boxer briefs. “I’m on the pill,” I say, finally letting him off the hook.
I slide my hands under the waistband of his underwear, feeling the firmness of his backside. I squeeze and knead, urging him back between my thighs. “Ethan, fill me.”
He pulls back to look down at me. Seeing the demand in my eyes, he shifts to remove his boxers and returns between my thighs.
“No more talking,” I whisper as my legs spread wider to accommodate him. I move until he’s positioned in the right spot. Gently, he slides forward, slipping tenderly to the depths, and my eyes roll back. I’ve never felt so complete.
“Ella,” Ethan strains, pausing a second and stroking back my hair again before reaching for my hand. Our fingers link, palms sweating against each other.
“It’s never felt like this before,” he says, his voice cracking. His eyes close, taking in the moment before he draws back, teasing me at the edge before rushing forward this time. I grunt while loving the intrusion.
“Ethan, look at me.” His lids flip open, and he stares at me while we move as one. I want him to watch what we do. I want him to see what he does to me.
We can only keep the slower pace for so long before Ethan moves faster, drives deeper. His fingers lower for my sensitive nub and rub while he keeps the pace of crashing into me. I fall apart, no longer a slow, rippling tide but a rushing tidal wave. I moan Ethan’s name until he stills, filling me in a way I’ve never felt so complete.
I’ll never feel this whole again without this man.
Card 22: Pumpkin Spice Cake
Cloves and ginger and something in between
[Ethan]
“Happy Birthday to you,” I quietly sing into her ear, kissing the shell.
When we finished making love on the floor, Ella dressed in my shirt, and I slipped back into my pants. She took her time blowing out all thirty candles in the room and asked me about the roses. Thirty there as well.
Now, she sits before me on the dining room table in our own version of the end scene in Sixteen Candles. Her back presses to my chest in our scenario. Her cake candles are the only light in the room. We laughed as we climbed on the tabletop. I’m not certain this thing can hold us both, though it’s certainly big enough. There’s nowhere else I want to be than with her before me, laughing in my arms. My legs stretch forward while she sits crisscrossed between my thighs.
“More wishes,” I tell her, and she peers at me over her shoulder.
“They already came true.” Her eyes slowly lift from my lips to my eyes, and there’s the look—the longing she had in the image I love—and she’s aiming that look at me. Can I do this? Can I give her what she’s asking for with those eyes?
“I’m here for you,” I tell her, hoping to reassure. I love being with her. I love touching her and having her close. Is this love? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been here before.
Ella hesitates a second before pressing a quick kiss to my jaw. She turns back to the cake and leans forward to blow out her candles. My hand rubs up her spine and dips into her hair at the nape of her neck. I clench my fingers, tugging at the nest of fiery strands, and draw her back to me, turning her head to bring her mouth to mine.
Ella twists her body and presses me to my back.
“I don’t think this table can hold us,” I say, but the concern doesn’t stop Ella. Her hands come to the waist of my pants and unbutton. “What are you doing?”
“Acting out one of my wishes,” Ella mutters, taking my mouth again. While she’s kissing me, she wiggles my pants to my hips, and I marvel at her ability to multitask. Her long, thin fingers wrap around me, stroking and tugging. I’m already hard with anticipation. Free from the confines of my pants, Ella straddles me. Her readiness hits me as she’s wearing nothing underneath my dress shirt. The cake is somewhere between my calves as Ella moves so her center cradles my tip.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I tell her, stunned by how truly beautiful she is. Her wild hair dangles like a curtain framing her face. Her eyes glow despite the darkness of the room. She smiles down at me, and it’s brighter than anything. Then she slams down over me, and I grunt.
“Jesus,” I hiss as she swallows me into her warmth. It’s nothing like I’ve felt before, being vigilant to keep myself wrapped with anyone else. I take her willingness to be like this as her trust in me. I’m never going to be the same after her.
Her palms flatten on my chest as her head tips back, hair cascading along her spine. My shirt falls loosely off her shoulder, and my hands coast up her sides. She’s lost in the rhythm she creates, rocking over me and rolling along my length.