A split second and his hands gripped her thighs and hoisted her onto the counter. A tray clattered behind her.
He broke the kiss, the soft warmth of his mouth trailing down her jaw line, down her neck where his tongue traced along the edge of her shirt. The pressure of his hand kneading her breast, stopping to pinch the sensitive peak.
The weight of his chest pushed her down, leading her to lay along the table. Her thoughts jumbled, and she couldn’t say no. She didn’t want to say no.
Ethan’s work hardened palms ran up her bare thighs, pushing up the skirt. He seemed more aware of her this time, less rushed as he played at the waist of her panties.
Olivia pushed her hips up, and his hands slid away. Her eyes flew wide. He looked down at her, and she couldn’t read him. God, what the hell was he stopping for? She couldn’t stop the beat of her heart and burn between her thighs.
“You believe me? That I’m sorry?”
“What?” Her heart nearly shattered by the pain in his eyes. She’d wanted him the second she’d seen him, she’d already believed him even if she hadn’t wanted to. She’d wanted him before he’d marked her.
“Of course. Yes,” she said.
Ethan claimed her mouth before the last could be finished.
Her words were lost on the breath of surprise and desire as his touch trailed down the elastic of her underwear. He slipped a finger beneath the leg-band. Her muscles clenched as his fingers played at her slit, then parted her folds. He slowly ran his fingers from her slick heat to the sensitive nub. His finger gently massaged her, and she laid back again, the pressure building with each gentle flick.
Absently she twisted her hands into the fabric of his shirt as a second finger joined the first making her thrust against his hand.
“I’ll spend every day making it up to you,” he whispered as he pleasured her with his skilled hand.
Her body became a spring, being pushed and coiled up with every stroke. Pulling away just as her body hummed, his touch moved to her entrance again.
“Please, Ethan.” She squirmed under him.
His fingers just out of reach, the faint tease of him hovering. Her release so close and yet so far.
“Olivia, what do you want?”
Her eyes nearly rolling back into her head she said, “You. I want you.”
The word “mine” flashed through her mind again, and she purred in response, “Yes. Yours.”
A static filled her ears, filled her mind, and all she felt was him. A growl vibrated through his cheek as he leaned in to kiss her once again.
She wasn’t waiting any longer. He nibbled her lip, and his fingers circled her entrance. She was slick and wet. If he didn’t take her right now, she was going to die.
A fevered frenzy took over as she tugged at his pants, working the button faster than she could decorate a single cupcake.
She reached her hand down, the hair on his belly a trail to the only dessert she wanted. Pressing her palm against him and sliding down past the elastic of his boxers his dick twitched, hard, warm, and perfect. She circled the tip rubbing a small drip around the head. He broke the kiss on a gasp.
“Fuck woman. I need you. I need to be inside you.”
“Yes. God, yes. I can’t wait anymore.”
With a quick, smooth motion, he stood and pushed his pants down.
Her tongue ran across her teeth as he stood in all his glory. She’d felt him, felt the pleasure he gave her, felt the delicious ache of muscles well used, but hadn’t appreciated him until now.
Gripping her behind the knees, he pulled her to the edge. He pulled her panties, and the smooth cotton glided down her skin as she pulled one foot out then the other.
Their eyes locked for a brief second. The head of his dick tickling the swollen skin between her thighs. Slowly he pushed forward, his fingers spreading her, guiding him in one inch at a time.
The muscles of his neck cording at the restraint.
She nearly shook at the unreleased desire within her.
He started to pull out, her muscles clenched around him, and he thrust back in. Slowly, painfully slow.
He lifted her legs, one ankle on each of his shoulders as he thrust back into her, each time a little faster as he held her legs, held her to him.
Her hands feverishly looking for support and finding something, anything on the table.
He thrust in faster and faster and faster, her body humming, her back arching.
Without warning he pulled out, her heart thudding in her ears, her breathing ragged, there was no time to catch it.
He pulled her off the table and spun her around and pulled her ass into him.
His hand snaked around and began to work her clit, she pressed into him, against the near aching pain of needing to come needing to release.
The hot whisper of his words nearly undoing her, “I can’t wait much longer. You undo me. Are you ready?”
She nodded her head in a jerk, words impossible.
He pushed up her skirt that had fallen and lifted her leg, her torso against the steel of the counter. He positioned her just right as he entered her from behind, her muscles clenched as he drove into her.
His other hand twisted in her hair as he began to drive into her.
Each thrust more determined than the last. Pressure building within her, stronger, harder.
Oh, God. She needed to come.
As if he knew what she was thinking he thrust into her again, harder, driving as deep as he could. Stroking her. Once, twice, until her body shook. She gave the walls of her core pulsing, milking him.
He didn’t quit though. As if her scream of ecstasy filled him he drove in harder, quicker. Her need couldn’t register the pleasure, so much, almost too much until he finally gave a
