Exposed (Ethan Frost 3)

out possession as it is about pleasure.

Chapter 5

My lips part eagerly at the powerful surge of Ethan’s mouth against my own. He takes instant advantage, his tongue stroking into the deepest recesses of my mouth. He strokes along my own tongue, along the insides of my cheeks, the roof of my mouth.

He kisses me like it’s our first kiss…and I suppose it sort of is. Our lives change today in a way I don’t think either of us could ever have envisioned when we met at the smoothie bar at Frost Industries and argued over blueberries—and Ethan’s smoothie-making prowess. And yet, weeks later, here we are. In a Las Vegas suite with The Strip—the world—stretched at our feet.

It makes me love him more. Not the fancy suite, not the quick trip to Vegas. The kiss. Because this kiss—this slow, dark seduction that sizzles along my every nerve ending and has my heart beating triple time—this is Ethan, giving himself to me. How can I do less than to give myself back to him?

I pull him closer, stroke my tongue along his own as wild sparks light me up from the inside. And open myself to him, to whatever he wants from me. And whatever he wants to give me.

He groans deep in his throat as our tongues tangle. I press closer, savoring the taste and feel and smell of him. Savoring Ethan and the joy and fear that come with being his.

He tastes like chocolate, dark and bittersweet and addicting.

Like the ocean, vast and wild and free.

He tastes like eternity. My eternity and the one we will make together.

And, God, can he kiss. For a man as powerful and dominating as he is, in moments like this Ethan has no problem giving up control of the kiss to me. Has no problem letting me tease and taunt and taste him until his need is a wild tsunami breaking between us, slamming into us and pulling us both under.

I draw back with a sigh, sucking his lower lip between my teeth and nipping at it again. Nipping at him. He smiles against my lips, slides his hands down my back to cup my ass and pull me up onto my tippy toes so that my sex is flush against his rock hard cock.

Then he thrusts against me. Pleasure sparks deep inside me, makes my fists clench and my knees weak. I bite at him in retaliation, harder this time, and he stiffens. Afraid I actually hurt him, I sweep my tongue over his lip to soothe the pain…and that’s all it takes.

Ethan’s control shatters and in an instant he goes from a man indulging his woman’s need for control to a man intent on dominating. He takes control of the kiss; at the same time his hand slides between my thighs.

He teases me for long, torturous seconds, his fingers kneading my thigh muscles, skimming across my mons, and in the line where my leg connects to my torso. Touching me anywhere—everywhere—but the place I want him most. I arch my back, spread my thighs wider and still he teases. Still he takes his time. I’m whimpering, pleading with soft broken breaths, when he finally slides his thumb—slowly, slowly, slowly—along my labia.

I moan—I can’t help myself—then lift my hips to press myself more firmly into his touch. But he only laughs and stills my pelvis with his other hand. “Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against my hot cheek. “We’re just getting started.”

“Ethan!” I sound way too desperate for a woman who spent much of the last twenty-four hours being made love to. But he feels so good and after the discord of the last few weeks, I need him so much. I rock my hips against him, and the friction is almost enough to—

He pulls away with a deliberately provoking grin. “Feeling anxious, are you?”

He sounds cocky enough that I think about shrugging it off. About scooping up my clothes and getting dressed right now instead of letting him continue to tease and torment me. Except he chooses that moment to drop to his knees in front of me. As he does, he runs his tongue from my collarbone to my navel in a long, lingering sweep that makes me see stars.

“You taste so good,” he whispers against my stomach before trailing his tongue over my hip and then up my side to tickle and torment me in equal measure. “I had you just last night and still I want more.”

He kisses across my ribs, then licks his way along the belly chain he gave me weeks ago, his tongue dipping between the links every inch or so to tease.

“I always want more,” he continues as he cups my ass in his big hands, circles my navel with his tongue. “I always want you. I think about you all the time. When I’m working, when I’m driving, when I’m with you, when I’m not. When I’m sleeping. When I’m under you. Inside you. Above you.” He presses hot kisses to my skin as he kisses his way down my ribs to my hip.

The images he creates make my knees weak, send heat spiraling through me.

“I think about you when I’m in a conference call.” He licks up the center of my torso. “There might be twenty people on the line talking about the future of Frost Industries, and all I can think about are your breasts.”

He presses soft kisses to first one of my nipples and then the other.

“About the softness of your skin. About the color of your nipples—they’re so gorgeous I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about them.” He pulls one into his mouth, sucks hard enough that I feel it in my knees. And in my clit.

Then again, maybe that’s his voice. It’s deep and dark, magic and mayhem, and it’s making me want. Making me weak.

“When I’m in traffic, I think about your mouth.” He reaches up, rubs a thumb over my lips.

“About how good it feels to kiss you, to lick inside and taste you. You taste like honey.” He pushes his thumb past my lips and I moan even as I take it in. Take him in. I scrape my teeth gently over his skin, swirl my tongue around his thumb as I suck him deeper and deeper.

It’s Ethan’s turn to groan, his gorgeous blue eyes turning almost black with need. For long seconds, he watches me with barely leashed desire. And then he’s gently pushing me back against the nearest table, lifting me onto the cold, hard surface.