Page 41 of A Certain Step (Midnights at Pemberley #1)

Lowering himself then, his lips grazed her abs with purposeful concentration until he reached her legs.

He circled his fingers along the inside of her thighs, and he held her in place, kissing every inch of her exposed s kin with agonizing slowness.

Willa knew her body was conventionally attractive.

It’s what years of dance and physical training shaped, but as much as people had wanted her before, she knew with utmost certainty that they wouldn’t appreciate her the way Ethan could.

Obsessed with her thighs to a hilarious degree, sure, but it was beyond that.

It was the bruises and scars, too—the dips and curves he found meaning in.

His mouth climbed back up to her lips. They kissed heartily for a few beats, and then Ethan’s lips roamed lower again. He kissed her greedily, fervently, and thoroughly, showing every bit of attention to her thighs again.

And then, he touched her atop her knickers, moving his fingers delicately across where she wanted him most. She shuddered slightly at the contact. She needed more of him, his hands—his lips, whatever he’d give.

Ethan drew his mouth back along the height of her thigh, biting faintly and taking a bit of lace in his teeth. His fingers moved reverentially to the top of the fabric.

She lifted her hips with the same motion as during “Forbidden Corridors,” forcing his eyes to dart toward her face in understanding.

She smiled cheekily as she caught his gaze.

Delicately dragging the fabric off her skin, he reached back toward his dresser and placed it with its pair.

He sealed his eyes briefly once more, taking a fevered breath.

Ethan drew himself lower, this time with even more methodic and vulnerably transcendent movements. She wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing it. He might’ve believed he wasn’t as skilled of a dancer (hint: he was), but Ethan Everett moved with intention and artistry.

And finally, with one swift move, he brushed his lips into her wet heat.

Willa chok ed out a whimper. His eyes darted intently on her face to read what the sound meant.

“Go on,” she rasped, unable to utter more. Willa dropped her hand to wordlessly ask for his—he took it promptly, held on firmly, and squeezed. With permission fully granted, Ethan’s lips and tongue collided against her. Delightfully paced and urgent kisses brilliantly fusing together.

He took his time with her, paying attention to all her cues. The vibrations hummed all around her like an impeccably synchronized symphony, and her climax rushed through her entire body.

Ethan took it all in, his eyes flitting up with an unfamiliar expression, something in between wholly satisfied and transfixed. He said nothing, taking notice of her panting moans with a roguishly enamored smirk curving against his lips. He breathed deeply, eyes locked in devotion.

“If this doesn’t work out between us. I’m certain I could manage celibacy. I’d never want anyone else after tasting you,” he asserted.

Willa smiled at him. This was what she was always missing in others—unwavering adoration and trust. This was why it’d been damn near impossible with others. She didn’t trust them. She didn’t know them.

She knew Ethan better than he knew himself.

He knew her the same.

She steadied her breathing, her gaze fixed at the sight of Ethan still between her legs. She felt bold and free, conviction taking over again. “Take your pants off and get inside me then.”

He groaned and sprang off the bed, eyes frantic and starved. She watched him shrug off his jeans and briefs, abandoning them on the floor before rejoining her on the bed.

Inching closer, Ethan pressed his lips to hers with a fervency that made her toes curl. “I love you,” he rasped with a tender tug. “I love you so damn much,” he aff irmed again like he couldn’t believe the words were out there, theirs to sigh, say, or scream whenever they wanted.

“I’ll go as slow or as fast as you need me, Wills. I just need you to talk to me so I’ll know exactly what works and what doesn’t.”

“I will.”

Ethan’s fingers traced along her skin, lower and lower, parting and moving inside of her. She gathered how desperately he wanted this to be good for her, to ensure history didn’t repeat itself with an unwanted invasion. But this was Ethan—thoughtful and safe, born to be hers.

A moan rose at the base of her throat, and she didn’t suppress it, hoping to show him that she’d welcome him. She wanted him .

His lips hovered over her neck, and he placed a kiss there, moving up against the curve of her chin, back toward her ear.

Nuzzling against her skin while his finger moved inside of her, slowly at first, he picked up the pace only when she bucked her hips in response.

Reading her willingness, he added a second finger.

He was so cautious of her body, so keenly aware of her reactions, that it made her want him more.

“Ethan,” she begged. He hummed deliciously at the sound of his name—the yearning in her plea.

Reaching inside his bedside drawer for a condom, Ethan took one, ripped it open with his teeth, and placed it around his length.

He held her gaze and climbed fully on top of her. Ethan cupped her cheek. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Do you know how many times and different ways I’ve pictured this? Never once thinking I’d be lucky enough even to kiss you?”

Willa pull ed him forward and crashed her lips to his with searing passion, urging him to go on.

Ethan entered her slowly, carefully.

“Still good?” he asked.

“Still good,” she reassured him.

He thrust himself deeper. Willa arched her hips to take what was left, prodding a deep, vigorous growl from his throat.

Everything about them entwined together felt right, like their bodies were made to move and melt against one another—hard and fast, slow and gentle.

It was far beyond what she had envisioned in her wildest dreams.

She was close, so was he. He was good at withholding many things, but his desire for her wasn’t one of them.

Her fingers scratched along his back, her climax coming in like shock waves she could barely decipher; Ethan’s followed through afterward, a perfect, unguarded groan left in its wake.

The marriage of their breathless longing lulled against the city’s bustling noises. Sticky heat and unreserved smiles plastered across both their faces.

She wrapped her arm against his chest, nestling herself into him as close as physically possible.

He enveloped her entirely in his arms and squeezed her tighter.

She kissed the jut of his throat, where her lips could reach with minimal effort, and looked up at him.

“I love you,” she said into the kiss. “In case it wasn’t clear or anything of the sort. ”

“Good, because I have no plans to stop loving you or let you go,” he muttered lazily.

They got out of bed, cleaned themselves up, brushed their teeth, and leaped back underneath the covers. Willa didn’t bother with a T-shirt this time, deciding to let the emerald ensemble be her outfit for the night.

“I fucking love you in emerald green,” he announced.

She gasped sardonically. “I had no idea. You aren’t saying it enough.”

“I fucking love you in emerald green,” he repeated.

She slid beside him, draping her arm against the slope of his shoulder. “I fucking love you in glasses,” she added.

“I had no idea. You aren’t saying it enough,” he mimicked. A big, toothy grin on his face.

Lifting her head, Willa trekked her lips to his. He kissed her hard, then clutched her tight against his chest.

“I’ll definitely manage to kick you this close.”

He released a close-mouthed chuckle. “It’s a price I’m willing to pay.”