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Something flutters in my stomach, and I want to kiss him. I remember my half-promise to Aurora, made just a few feet away two days ago. But why should I be true to her if I’m not being true to myself?
Then, Ethan kisses me, and I don’t have time to sort through all my thoughts. I just kiss him back. I’m expecting to feel some sort of guilt as our lips touch softly at first. But I don’t.
I just feel elated, complete, whole. Ethan’s hand comes up and cups the back of my head, and our lips press into each other even harder. I feel a warmth in my stomach that is much different than the nausea I’ve been mostly feeling the last few days.
And I know then that I’m not going to stop. I’m going to let Ethan comfort me however he wants.
He pulls me closer to him, guiding me forward, and Itentatively rest my hands on his shoulders. Then, all at once, I’m sitting on top of him, straddling him. I lock my hands behind his neck and continue to kiss him over and over until my lips are sore.
There’s a desperation in my touch, a need I can’t control anymore. And I know he feels it too. I slowly move my hips back and forth against him until I feel his answering touch, right between my legs. There are too many layers of clothing, and it suddenly feels hot in here.
I want to take off his clothes and enjoy him slowly. But if I move too slowly, then I’ll start thinking. And thinking is the last thing I want to do right now.
I push back from him, our lips detaching with a loudsmack.I’m standing in front of him, my lips burning from the kiss we just shared. His eyes are on mine. Then, his eyes drop to the rest of me, which is still covered up in layers of clothing.
“I don’t want to push you into anything you’re?—”
“Well, I know what I want. Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him to his feet. The dogs trot after us as we go to my bedroom, but we close the door on them. This moment is just for the two of us.
Once the door is closed, I reach for his clothes. He’s wearing too many layers. He never even took off his jacket once he came inside. I slide that down his arms into a puddle at his feet. Then, I reach for his red sweater.
That comes off quickly, too. I trail my fingers down his torso, and Ethan lets me touch him however I want. I reach the part of his stomach where his pants rest. And I reach for the belt. I undo it.
He’s watching me the whole time, letting me do things at my own speed. Finally, his pants are undone. I slide themdown, and there’s just his boxers between me and his skin now.
I reach for his erection, which stands out clearly against his underwear, and wrap my hand around it. I slide my hand up and down, and I hear his breath catch.
I know he said no strings attached, and the surfing school was a gift he wanted to give out of the goodness of his heart. But that doesn’t feel right. I can’t just take it. I want to show my appreciation.
As I pull his boxers to the ground, I get on my knees in front of him and begin to taste him. He grunts as I slowly take him into my mouth.
I move my head back and forth, taking him in my mouth, running my tongue along the soft skin on the end of his dick. He leans back against the wall like he’s not able to stand on his own two feet.
And then, as I fondle his balls and put him as far back in my mouth as he will go, he starts to moan in pleasure. He places a hand on my head and tangles his fingers into my hair.
I can’t take it anymore. When he starts moaning, I stand up. He smiles a slow, lazy smile at me.
“What? You don’t want me to come? I’m close, you know.”
“Not yet. I want you to be inside me.”
“I didn’t bring a condom with me.”
I want to laugh thatnowhe’s suddenly thinking of protection. But I don’t. I don’t want my uncontrollable emotions to ruin this moment. So, I just start taking off my clothes.
Once I’m fully naked, Ethan starts kissing me again. His skin seems to burn against mine. I love the feeling of him warming me. He sets me on the edge of the bed and nudgesmy legs apart. Leaning back on the palms of my hands, I look up at him.
He’s not watching my face, though. He’s looking down between my legs as he slowly, carefully thrusts himself forward. We groan in unison.
“I want you to do it hard,” I insist.
“Oh really? Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Yes.”
But he still doesn’t move any faster. He slowly pushes himself inside, inch by inch, until I am full of him. Then, he moves slowly, extracting himself, until I can’t stand waiting any longer.
“Ethan!” I start to beg.