He huffed out a laugh. “I wonder why. I can’t wait to get you home and in my bed.” He paused and looked down at me, his face illuminated by the streetlamps. “That’s if you want to? I don’t want to presume anything.”
I placed a kiss on his chest, above my hand that still rested over his heart. “Oh, I’m more than ready. Believe me, if the cab driver wasn’t here, my hand wouldn’t have stopped at your belt.”
“Fuck, Avery,” he groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. He pinched his brow, muttering under his breath.
“What are you muttering to yourself?”
“I’m trying to hold on to my control before I take you right here in the cab, audience be damned.” he ground out.
“Don’t hold back on my account.”
“Avery.” His tone was a warning.
The cab came to a stop outside Ethan’s apartment block, and he quickly paid, then virtually dragged me through the foyer, stabbing at the button to call the lift over and over.
“I think you only need to press it once,” I said, very quietly under my breath.
“I heard that.”
We stared at one another for a moment, and then we both started laughing at the same time. “What are you doing to me, woman? One minute I can’t think about anything but being inside you, the next you’re making me laugh. I can say, with a hundred percent certainty, that I’ve never met anyone like you, Avery Jenkins.”
“Would you say I’m one in a million?” I waggled my eyebrows at him, grinning.
His face turned serious. “Yes. You are one in a million. There’s no one I’d rather be with at this moment in time.”
I melted at his words as he lowered his head, and I lost myself in his kiss.
Ethan manoeuvred me into the lift, his lips never leaving mine, and it began to rise. When it came to a halt, we pulled apart from one another, breathing heavily. As we stood, poised to enter his apartment, the reality of being with this man hit me, and I faltered. We’d been together before, but being here, at his home—something about it felt different, almost overwhelming, and I was overcome by nerves.
“Hey, come here.” He pulled me into his arms, noticing my distress. “We don’t have to rush anything. You control this. Okay?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is. I just feel…nervous, I guess.” What if he regrets it again?
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His arms tightened around me, and he ran his fingers through my hair, soothing and relaxing me. “I have an idea. Go and stand by the sofa, facing the windows.”
I complied and waited for him to do whatever he was doing, staring out of the huge windows at the city lights. I heard a click, and the overhead lights were turned off, replaced with the soft glow of a single floor lamp that stood in the corner of the room behind a large armchair. Music began playing softly. I recognised the song as one of my favourites—“Dangerously” by Charlie Puth; and I smiled. I felt his presence behind me, and then his body was pressed against my back. His arms came around me, sending shivers down my spine. “Dance with me, Miss Jenkins.”
My nerves melted away as we moved to the music. “Remember the first time we danced together, here in your apartment.”
He ran the tip of his nose along my cheek to my ear. “I wanted to kiss you then.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He was silent for a moment. “I’m not sure. The thought hit me from nowhere and took me by surprise, and at the time, I don’t think either of us were ready.”
I turned in his arms to face him, winding my arms around his neck. “I’m ready now. Are you?”
He pressed his hard length against me. “Does that answer your question?” Taking my hand, he led me into his bedroom.
We undressed each other in between kisses, and his whispered reminders that I was in charge of the pace. The music still played through hidden speakers, the volume low, and the only light came from the city lights twinkling outside the windows.
I asked him to lie on the bed, and he complied instantly. The sight of him, lying there, hard and ready for me, made me catch my breath, and I moaned softly, the throbbing between my legs too much to bear. I needed him inside me.
“Come here.” His voice was low and commanding. I stumbled around to the side of the bed, and he tracked my movements, his hand reaching down to his thick length. I licked my lips and he growled. “Condom. Bedside table.” I reached into the drawer, glancing down and rolling my eyes at how neatly arranged everything was inside it. I grabbed a condom and turned back to face him, all thoughts of his obsessive organisation flying out of my mind. He crooked his finger at me, and I crawled across the bed to him, the dark grey sheets soft and luxurious under my hands.
He took the condom from me and rolled it on, then gripped my hips to align my body with his. I slowly lowered myself onto him, watching the heavy-lidded expression of lust in his eyes as he watched his cock entering me. From my vantage point, I stared down at him, sprawled underneath me, sexy and powerful, but letting me take control. How did I get here? Why did this unattainable man, who could have almost any woman he wanted, want me?
All thoughts flew out of my head as he brushed his thumb across my clit. And again. And again. The sensation of fullness, combined with his touch, overloaded my senses. I whimpered, and he let out a low growl, pulling me down and smashing his lips across mine. His arms came around me, gripping my ass and moving us into a delicious rhythm. The friction of his body against mine was beyond words. I felt myself climbing higher and higher, teetering on the edge, my movements becoming more frenzied, my breaths growing short as I moaned into his mouth.