Something breaks free in Ethan then. I can hear it in his swift, sharp intake of breath, feel it in the heavy, powerful thrust of his hips beneath mine.
“Now, Chloe. ” His hands clamp on my hips like a vise. “Please. I need you, now. ”
And just that easily, I yield control. This is Ethan and I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else. He’ll take me where we’re both so desperate to go, and take care of me when it’s done.
He reaches between us, strokes his thumb over my clit. With his other hand, he pulls me down hard even as he lifts his hips and thrusts into me. And just like that, we plunge over the edge of the world together.
Chapter Twenty-four
I stay with Ethan all day. Making love, having that evening picnic we never got a chance to have yesterday, talking about a million different unimportant things. Like fireflies and caramel versus peanut butter and what our favorite bands are. And while his taste in music is not something I can get behind, I’m willing to overlook it considering just how talented he is with his tongue.
It turns out Ethan’s insatiable, and now that I’m past the stress and insecurity of that first time, so am I. We make love everywhere—in the pool, on the beach, on the patio, in his bed, on his kitchen table.
That might actually be my favorite time. We’re in the kitchen, making something for a late lunch in a belated effort to keep from collapsing under the sheer number of times we’ve made love. Ethan, who is rummaging inside the fridge for cold cuts, turns to me with a can of whipped cream in his hand and a mischievous look on his face. The rest is history…but suffice it to say I’ve never had so much fun with a dairy product in my life.
Under duress, he drops me off at home late Sunday evening. He wants me to spend the night with him, and while there is nothing I’d like more, I feel like I need to put some boundaries on the relationship. Some boundaries on myself. At this moment I’m so caught up in him that I want nothing more than to stay in his bed forever. I want to wrap myself up in him and never, ever let go.
But that’s a problem. We’ve only known each other a week. Normally I take longer than that to decide on buying a new pair of shoes. The fact that I chose him as a lover in a lot less time than that makes me nervous even as it makes me smile, and I need a little time to process. To decompress.
Which is why I let myself into my apartment late Sunday evening, though Ethan is pouting in the car while he watches me. Or at least doing the best impression of pouting a strong, brilliant, beautiful man can pull off. It’d be funny if the steamy look in his eyes didn’t make me want to run back outside and hurtle myself back into his arms. To hell with distance. To hell with perspective. Ethan Frost is mine and I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Even the truth.
The second the apartment door closes behind me, Tori pounces on me. She’s been patient for two days, sending little text messages to make sure Ethan hasn’t chopped me up into little pieces and hidden me in his fridge. Every time she texted, I made a point of answering her back, but I didn’t give any details.
Tonight she wants details.
“Oh. My. God,” she exclaims as my legs—still shaky from Ethan’s last explosive bout of lovemaking—refuse to carry me any farther and I collapse on the couch next to her.
“I know. ”
“Oh. My. God. ”
I close my eyes, bury my face in my hands. “I know. ”
“Oh. My. God! Is that a hickey?” She points to a bruise on the side of my neck, then leans closer to investigate. “Forget hickey. Are those hickeys?” she screeches, her finger tracing one bruise after another. “There must be fifteen of them!”
And those are only the ones she can see.
“Is he an honest-to-God vampire? Because there’s no other explanation for that!” She points at the ring of small love bites that circles my collarbone.
Except there is. Ethan found out during those first moments of lovemaking that the teeny-tiny bite of pain that comes with getting a hickey grounds me. It gives me something to hold on to in the maelstrom of all that pleasure. And it brings my own pleasure to a whole other level. I’m not sure how I feel about it—I’ve never been one to find anything pleasurable in pain before this—but Ethan has no problem with using it to keep me immersed in the moment. To keep me from losing myself in the torment of my past when my head can threaten to spin completely out of my control.
I don’t te
ll Tori any of that, though. How can I expect her to understand what I myself can’t quite grasp? So instead of owning up to the truth, I grab a pillow from the corner of the couch and smack her with it.
“Yes, he’s a vampire. He spent the last twenty-four hours keeping me prisoner in his lair and doing unspeakable things to me while he sucked my blood. ”
She eyes my neck and shoulder. “The way you look right now, I can believe that. ”
I roll my eyes at her. “I guess that’s my cue to go rummage through my closet until I find something to cover most of these. ” Somehow I don’t think Maryanne will be impressed. And since I have no intention of telling her her boss gave them to me, my best bet is to find a shirt that hides them.
But Tori just snorts. “I recommend a turtleneck—and some industrial strength concealer. ” She taps a small bruise right on my jawline.
I should probably be upset with Ethan for marking me up so conspicuously. But I’m not. One, because it gave me such pleasure for him to do it. And two, because I understand his need to mark me. To claim me. Though I didn’t act on it, there’s a part of me that wanted to do the exact same thing to him.
“Okay, then. ” I filch the last sip of wine from her glass before standing up. “I’m off to bed. I’m exhausted. ”