Exposed (Ethan Frost 3)

I gasp at the chill of it against my hot skin and squirm a little. But Ethan holds me in place with one large, warm hand on my abdomen.

“I think about your pussy, when I should be thinking about business,” he tells me, his fingers stroking around my navel and then down. Over my abdomen, down my mons to the trimmed curls of my pubic hair. And then lower still, until his index finger is pressed inexorably against my clit.

“I think about how good you feel around my dick.” His middle finger reaches lower, traces the slick slit of my sex. “About how I want to spend hours—days—with my head buried between your thighs. My lips on your clit, my tongue buried deep inside you.”

His words arrow through me until I’m all but burning up from the inside out. “Ethan, please,” I beg as my hands slide up his shoulders, clutch at the silk of his hair. The strands feel cool against my heated skin and I revel in the feeling even as I lift my hips into his touch. “Please.”

“I think about you all the time,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against my sex. “About your body. About your brain. About everything that makes you who you are. And I swear, Chloe, I fall a little more in love with you with every goddamn second that passes. With you, away from you, it doesn’t matter. You’re all I’ll ever want. All I’ll ever need.”

His words pour through me, setting off mini-explosions in my head, my heart, my sex. “Ethan,” I pant. “God, Ethan, please.”

Of their own volition, my hands tug at his hair. My leg wraps around his shoulders. My hips arch into his mouth. I need you. I need you. Ineedyou. It’s a beat in my blood, a mantra in my head, a truth I’ll never be able to deny.

And then even that thought is gone, replaced by pure feeling—by pure want—as Ethan drops his head and finally—finally—licks a long, slow, hot stripe along my sex.

My arms—which, until now, had been holding me up quite nicely—turn shaky before giving out completely. I’m lying flat against the desk now, the wood cold against my back as every other part of my body threatens to spontaneously combust from the heat churning through me. I give up t

he last bit of control I’m holding on to and let him have his wicked, wicked way with me.

And what a way it is. He plays me like I’m a finely tuned instrument, like I’m the only woman he’s ever had—or will ever have. Like all that matters in the world is the two of us and this perfect, perfect, perfect moment.

“I love you, Chloe,” he tells me before licking his way inside of me. “I love you.”

“I—” My voice breaks as pleasure skates along my every nerve ending. “I love you, too.”

It’s like the words tear through the last shred of control he has, because the moment they leave my mouth, he’s on me. His tongue thrusts deep inside of me and I gasp as he makes slow, deliberate circles that light me up from the inside.

Already I’m close, trembling on the edge of an orgasm that will slam me into a world of ecstasy I couldn’t have imagined before meeting Ethan. Before being touched by him.

But even as I tremble, as I arch my hips against his mouth and beg him breathlessly to send me over, he takes his time.

He laps at me, again and again. Long, lingering strokes that make me crazy. That make me crave. Again and again and again, his tongue explores every part of me, pausing only to suck at my labia and clit or to blow dark, warm air against my already too-heated sex.

My hands are clutching at his shoulders, my hips moving restlessly against the desk as I beg for release. But there is none, only pleasure so keen it’s almost pain as Ethan drives me to the edge of madness over and over again. And then he’s pressing one long, calloused finger inside of me, stroking my G-spot even as he pulls my clit gently into his mouth.

With a sound that’s half-scream, half-moan and all Ethan’s name, I tumble over the edge. Pleasure crashes through me as I buck wildly against him, needing him to stop, needing him to continue, needing these feelings to go on forever.

And they do. They do. Because Ethan isn’t close to done. He keeps his face buried between my thighs, his lips and tongue and breath on me, inside me, all over me for what seems like a moment, what seems like forever. I come and come and come, until I’m going beyond pleasure, beyond individual orgasms, to an ecstasy that goes on and on.

And still I want more.

I buck and twist, clutch and pull, beg incoherently for the feel of his cock inside me. For the feel of his big, strong body covering mine.

And still he doesn’t give in.

Still he pushes me, until I’m sobbing, mindless, balanced on the sharpest edge of pleasure and pain.

My body is no longer my own. I’m enthralled, ensorcelled, desperate for him and what we can build together. So when he spikes his tongue and swirls it inside me, sending ecstasy slamming through me one more time, I take it. I take it and take it and take it, until he pauses for just a moment.

And then I’m on him, ripping at the remainder of his clothes. Skimming my mouth over his tattoo, his chest, his rock hard abs. Turning us so that he’s the one pressed against the desk. His hands clench in my hair and he shudders at the feel of my lips on his skin, my body pressed to his. He groans my name, pulls at me as I did him, but it’s my turn and there’s no way I’m yielding. Not before I take him as high and make him as crazy as he made me.

I slide to my knees in front of him, let my hair brush against his long, hard cock as I revel in his groans. And then slowly, slowly, slowly, I slide him into my mouth, not stopping until he hits the back of my throat.

“Fuck, Chloe, baby,” he growls, his hands fisting in my curls, tugging at me as I get my first taste of him in far too many hours. He’s hot and silky and perfect—so perfect—that I want to stay like this forever. On my knees in front of him, a supplicant trying to give back to him just a little of what he gives me so effortlessly.

I suck him even deeper, stroking and swirling my tongue along his length as I do. I scrape my teeth gently along the underside of his cock then soothe the small sting with long, sensual licks. I keep it up, taking him deeper and deeper until he’s breathing in great shudders, his hips arching off the desk, his fists in my hair yanking my mouth down on him hard, again and again and again.

For long seconds, I give him what he wants. Then, just as he starts to leak pre-cum into my mouth, I pull back with a lingering swipe of my tongue.