Page 46 of When We Ignite

That was it.

I pushed my hands lower, then slipped them beneath the fabric, letting my fingers travel up the curve of his back. His body tensed instinctively, and I paused again. “Relax, darling,” I whispered, my voice low and soothing. “All you have to do is relax.”

Ethan clenched his jaw, fighting some internal battle, before exhaling and closing his eyes. His hands rose to my arms, no longer pushing me away but gripping me, holding on as he leaned into my touch.

I stepped closer, letting my hands explore the planes of his back, tracing the contours of muscle. He inhaled sharply before his grip on my arms loosened. Slowly, he allowed his back to settle into my hands, his body softening.

Ethan was perfect like this.

“That’s it,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him and letting my cheek rest against his. “You’re doing so good, my darling.”

His shiver rippled through me like a live wire.

I locked my hold with one arm, keeping him close while my free hand skimmed along his ribs. He turned his head away, exposing more of his neck, and I let my breath ghost over the delicate skin there. He was feverishly hot, and I hoped I was part of the reason why.

I brushed my nose along his neck, testing. This time, he didn’t flinch. A grin spread across my face. “Get your hands in my hair.”

He did so a second after I spoke, tangling his fingers and keeping them still.

I tightened my grip on him, pressing my hands more firmly against his skin. Ethan’s thighs tightened slightly around my hips, and his fingers clenched in my hair. “Go on, grab harder.”

Without hesitation, he pulled on my hair. I pressed my lips together to stifle the groan threatening to escape.

My breath traced the line of his jaw, then his cheek. I pulled back just enough to look down at his face, planning to tease him, lighten the mood, show him it didn’t have to be scary. But the way he was looking at me made me pause.

He liked this.

Ethan still seemed overwhelmed, but now there was desire in his eyes. He wanted this. He wanted me.

I licked my lips, unable to help myself, and his gaze dropped to my mouth.

Holding onto this boundary he’d set was excruciating. I was desperate to kiss him. I wanted to taste his lips and tongue, the want radiating off him. I just needed him to say the words. His hands twisted in my hair as I leaned closer.

His eyes remained fixed on my lips, and I knew it was a matter of seconds. If he didn’t say it soon, I wouldn’t be able to hold back. It was either break his trust or leave the room. There was no middle ground.

I slid my hand to his back, resting it just below his nape, steadying us both.

“Ash,” he breathed, his voice trembling.

I nodded, leaning in a fraction more. He just had to say it and as soon as the words left his lips, I’d devour him.

Ethan met my gaze and pulled me toward him—the smallest gesture, but it was enough.

I shook my head slightly, pleading with him, “You have to say it.”

Ethan’s gaze dropped to my lips again, his own parting as if to speak. The soft sound of the letter “k” barely escaped when the floor creaked behind us.

Ethan’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with panic. His hands fell from my hair, and he practically leaped off the table, crouching low behind the counter.

I stood frozen, staring at the empty space he’d left behind, my heart pounding.

“Ash?” Charlotte’s voice cut through the quiet.

I turned to see her stepping into the kitchen. “Charlie, dear, what are you doing up at this hour?” My voice was unsteady, so I cleared my throat, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I had too much wine with dinner. I needed water,” she said, scrunching her nose.

I chuckled, glancing at the cabinets as she moved toward them.