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He dries me slowly, spending a lot of time on my hair before moving on to my body. I wait for embarrassment to swamp me—he’s caring for me like I’m an invalid, after all.

Or like I’m the most precious thing in the world. The thought slips into my head, but I refuse to acknowledge it. To wish for it. Right now, it’s more than enough that he’s here with me and still wants me, even after everything I told him.

When I’m completely dry, Ethan picks me up and carries me back into the bedroom. Lays me out on the bed completely naked. Once again I wait for the nervousness to come, and once again it doesn’t show up. I’m too busy watching Ethan move, his beautiful body bunching and stretching in all the right places.

Finally—finally—he lies down next to me on the bed. He’s on his side, facing me, and while he hasn’t taken the towel off I can see his obvious erection. Thank God. Because I know he said to trust him, but if he doesn’t fuck me soon, I think I’m going to lose my mind.

He reaches for me and I think he’s going to pull me close to him, but instead he trails a light finger over the hollow of my throat before stroking it down the center of my body. Over my heart, down my midriff to my navel ring. “I like this,” Ethan murmurs, his voice low and gravelly as he plays with the little silver hoop.

“I like it, too. ” And I like that he likes it. More, I like that he seems to understand the control it helps me feel over my own body. The same control that I felt when I got the small compass tattooed on the back of my hip. The same control I feel now, in his arms.

He smiles. “I’m glad. ”

Eventually he moves past the navel ring and slides his finger down the platinum links and glistening diamonds of the belly chain to my mons. I tense despite myself and his eyes jerk right back up to mine. “You okay?” he asks.

I swallow, nod. Because when I’m with Ethan I am okay and that’s all that matters.

He strokes me here for long minutes, letting me get used to his touch all over again before he moves down to my sex. By now, any nerves I had are gone and all I can think about is taking him deep inside my body.

Suddenly I’m tired of waiting. Ethan has been wonderful. Sweet. Sexy. More patient than any man should have to be. But I’m ready for the next step. More than ready.

Reaching out, I reach through the opening in his towel and wrap my hand around his cock. He gasps, his wicked blue eyes shooting to mine. I can almost see the indecision in them—he doesn’t like that I’ve circumvented his plan, but at the same time he’s a guy. He’s not exactly going to complain about the fact that my hand is on his dick.

I lean into him, press a soft kiss to his mouth. Then whisper, “My turn, Ethan. ”

I start to stroke him, running my hand from the base of his shaft to the tip in one long, smooth motion. He stiffens, drops his hand down to rest on top of mine. “You don’t have to do this. ”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve made it abundantly clear that I don’t have to do this. But what if I want to do this?”

He studies me for long seconds, looking for I don’t know what. Reassurance, maybe? Or just proof that I’m not going to lose my mind this time?

To be honest, I don’t know what’s going to happen when Ethan actually makes love to me, but I know that I want to try. I know that I’ve never been less afraid in my adult life than I am at this very moment.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” I tell him, dropping soft kisses across his chest. “Please. Don’t make me wait. ”

I think it’s the plea that does it—I’m learning that Ethan has a hard time refusing me anything. But this time when I move my hand along the length of his cock, he doesn’t try to stop me. Instead he leans back and lets me touch him the way I’ve been dying to.

I roll over unt

il my body is right next to his. Then I do the same thing he did to me—tracing the center line of his body from his collarbone to his groin—but I do it with my tongue.

Ethan groans before I even get to his belly button, his hands tangling in my hair, tugging at the curls hard enough to get my attention but nowhere near hard enough to hurt me. I take my time kissing and licking my way down his torso, enjoying everything about his body.

The salty-sweet taste of him that echoes the ocean, that is even now beating on the rocks outside this room.

The warm, firm feel of him that makes me long to touch every part of him.

The dark, musky scent of him that works its way into every part of my body.

For a second, just a second, I think about what it would be like if I could stay here—right here—with him forever. This moment is so perfect, so right, that I want to remember every part of it, so that when the rest of my life gets too much I can pull today out and wrap it around me like my own personal armor.

“Baby?” Ethan asks, his voice even hoarser than it was a few minutes ago. “You doing all right?”

“I’m doing fine. ” And with that, I lower my head and take him gently into my mouth.

He groans at the first lick of my tongue down his rigid length, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Chloe, baby…” His whole body tenses, his every muscle going rock hard against me. I’ve never done this before and it’s different than I thought it would be. Better. More exciting. More arousing. Already I can feel my nipples hardening and the throb of burgeoning desire deep inside my sex.

Because I don’t know what I’m doing beyond the basics, I let instinct guide me as I bring my hands up to cup his ass. To pull him closer. To suck him deep into the recesses of my mouth.


Tags: Tracy Wolff Ethan Frost Romance