Page 103 of When We Ignite

“Yeah, you know what’s not thoughtful? You not waking up right now. What kind of person dates someone younger if they don’t have the stamina to keep up?” he quipped, his cheekiness pulling a laugh from me.

I turned to face him, and he shifted to give me room, settling his weight onto my chest. His damp hair brushed my chin.

“Did you shower before coming over?” I asked, noticing the faint, fresh scent clinging to him.

He nodded.

I laughed softly. “Why do you always do that before seeing me?”

“It clears my head. I’m always nervous before I see you,” he confessed.

“Just before?”

“Nah, I’m always wrecked when I’m around you,” he replied easily, the candidness in his voice making me smile. He wasn’t drunk, but I could tell he’d had a drink or two.

“Come up here,” I said, motioning for him.

Ethan pushed himself up slightly, looking down at me. The light from the living room spilled through the partially open door, illuminating his features—his tousled hair, the boyish flush on his cheeks, and that shy, crooked smile.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice soft.

“What I always think when I look at you.”

“What?” he pressed, his smile widening.

“That you’re beautiful.”

His cheeks darkened as he looked away, clearly embarrassed. “You’re supposed to say I’m handsome.”

“Handsome—that’s a word for a lot of people. But you? You’re fucking beautiful, and that’s something else entirely. You look like a dream pulled straight from my imagination, yet even in my wildest thoughts, I don’t think I could’ve conjured someone as perfect as you,” I said, my voice low and sincere.

His smile wavered, slipping away as he looked at me. The silence that followed was heavy, his gaze searching mine. “Do you say that to everybody you sleep with?”

“I don’t lie to get people into bed. When have I ever lied to you?” I replied, stroking my fingers through the cool strands of his hair.

Ethan leaned down and kissed me.

I turned my face slightly. “Give me a minute, darling. Let me brush my teeth,” I murmured, but his hand cupped my chin, gently guiding me to look at him.

“I like how you taste,” he whispered, his voice sending a jolt straight to my core.

I smiled, pulling him down for a deeper kiss. My hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head.

Running my palms over his back, chest, and abdomen, I marveled at the feel of him. Every inch of him was firm and smooth, like a marble statue brought to life. He didn’t just look like art—he felt like it too.

I knew what he needed this time to truly let go. Ethan didn’t want me calm, or at least not pretending to be. He craved the moments when I unraveled for him, when I lost control. I understood the feeling—it was intoxicating, watching someone fall apart because of you. It gave him the sense of power he sought, even when I was still the one setting the pace.

I tugged at his belt, sliding it free with haste. Ethan didn’t resist, letting me work him out of his clothes as his lips sought mine, over and over, inviting me deeper. I pushed his pants down, and he lifted his hips to kick them off completely. My gaze dipped, catching sight of the briefs I’d sent him, and I smiled, breaking the kiss to take him in. Ethan leaned forward instinctively, chasing my lips, but I pressed back, sitting up and wrapping his legs around my hips.

“I almost don’t want to take them off,” I admitted, my voice filled with awe. He looked fucking perfect—beyond perfect. Just the sight of him was enough to push me to the edge of control.

“Is this another one of your kinks?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

I nodded, unashamed, as I took in the way the fabric clung to him, tenting ever so slightly.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I pushed him down roughly, landing between his legs and trailing heated kisses along his neck. His body felt so fucking good beneath mine.

“I want you so much,” I growled against his skin. “Are you close, darling? Tell me you’re close to letting me into this fucking incredible body of yours.”