“Then do it,” she says in a low voice.
And I’m lost. I remember Georgia saying that she slept with me last week because she simply couldn’t resist me touching her. I
understand what that feels like; right now, with Georgia’s hands on me, her body lined up perfectly along mine, there’s no way I can stay away from this.
I grip Georgia’s hips firmly, slowly moving my leg to hook around her. Then, with one sudden movement, I spin us around so that she’s the one pressed against the door. She lets out a little yelp as her back hits the hard wood, but her legs spread apart so I can fit between them, looking up at her as her arms wind around my neck.
“I’m going to undress you,” I tell her. “I’m going to feel every inch of your body. And then I’m going to fuck you.”
I feel her shiver under my hands. She grins and slowly rubs her body sensually along mine. My cock is painfully hard in my pants, now, and my breath catches as I feel her moving, her hips rolling against my body. Her fingers play with the hairs at the nape of my neck, which is far more arousing than it should be.
“I can’t wait,” Georgia breathes.
I growl and tug at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her smooth stomach. My nails scrape lightly against her skin, over her ribs and the soft curves of her breasts, and then across her shoulders. Georgia raises her arms so that I can pull the shirt off, and I throw it away somewhere, hearing it land near the bed. Then I reach around her and unhook her bra, pulling it off too so that her breasts bounce free. Her nipples harden in the sudden chill air, and I knead them carefully in my hands, pinching the soft skin and playing with her nipples. Georgia’s back arches against the door at the sensations, groaning when I pinch the left nipple lightly, so I do it again to the right one, wanting to hear her make that sound again.
“Fuck, Ethan,” she groans.
“Not yet,” I say.
I drop my hands to the waistband of her jeans, flicking open the button and pulling the zipper down. She wriggles her hips, expecting me to pull them down, but instead I slip my hand inside her pants until I’m feeling her wet panties between her legs. Georgia jolts and gasps, her hands reaching up to grip my shoulders to anchor herself. I press harder against her vagina, rubbing with increased pressure as she groans and writhes at my touch.
“Please,” she chants. “Give me more, Ethan, please…”
I withdraw my hand and she moans piteously, her muscles tense. I push down the hem of her jeans, allowing them to drop down her smooth legs to the floor, and she kicks them away. Then I play with the elastic of her panties for a moment, teasing her as my fingers flick over the skin of her stomach, before pushing them down too.
Then she’s naked before me, and I press against her, my clothes rubbing against her skin. I slide my hands down her back and over her backside, lifting her. Her legs automatically wind tightly around my waist, bringing us even closer together, and I gasp as she rubs against my hard cock, which is desperate to be free.
“That feels so fucking good,” I groan.
“It’ll feel better without your clothes,” Georgia hints.
I pull away from the door and walk over the bed. Georgia’s mouth latches on my neck as I move, her teeth grazing the skin on my neck in a way that sets all my nerves on fire. One of my steps falters as she bites down, and I almost stumble when she sucks on the same spot that she had marked last week, the skin still sensitive from the treatment she gave it then. Her legs are locked tightly around my waist, and her skin is burning against me, even through my clothes.
Georgia sucks again, pulling the skin past her teeth and biting lightly. I’ll see that mark in the mirror tomorrow, just like I did last week. When I saw it last time, it made me feel guilty and ashamed. But this time…I’m in this with a clear head, knowing what both Georgia and I want. Instead of something shameful, this mark is going to be a representation of the night we both wanted to spend together.
So I drop Georgia on the bed, pulling her away from me and grab the hem of my shirt. I’m going to show her just how much I want her.
Chapter Twenty
Georgia
I drop onto the bed, my skin still tingling from the feeling of Ethan’s jeans and cotton shirt rubbing against me. My breath catches at the dark, hungry look in his eyes as he stands there staring at me, taking in every inch of my body. I raise myself up, leaning on my elbows.
“Are you going to stay dressed?” I challenge.
Ethan grins. At first, when he tried to give excuses, I was afraid that he would push me away. But he’s surrendered completely to what’s happening between us, touching me just as enthusiastically as I touch him. It makes my heart thump loudly.
This time, we’re not sleeping together because Ethan was desperate for comfort, or because he was drunk. No, this time it’s just about us and what we want. We’ve finally voiced our feelings, and told each other what we want. I thought it was amazing being able to have Ethan, if only briefly, before. But there’s an extra thrill in knowing that Ethan is touching me this time because he wants me.
I don’t know what will happen when this ends. Part of me knows that I have some explaining to do for the way I jumped him. We’re also going to have to have a real talk about our feelings, and there’s a chance that Ethan might still try and run away from them, like he did before I pushed him against the door.
But that’s not something to think about right now. At this moment, all I want is to feel every part of Ethan as he touches me and I take and give as much pleasure as I can.
“Don’t look away, Georgia,” Ethan says.
He reaches up and slowly, torturously slow, drags the zipper of his Roughshod Rollers jacket down. Bit by bit he reveals a tight-fitting white shirt underneath, and my mouth waters at the sight of how it clings to his abs, accentuating his smooth chest and the straight line of his waist. He rolls his shoulders, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to drop heavily to the floor.
Then he grips the hem of his shirt. He lifts it teasingly, spinning slowly, and I drink in the sight of each inch of skin as it’s revealed. His muscles flex as he drags his shirt slowly up, pulling it over his shoulders and head. His jeans are slung low on his hips, and I can see the bulge of his cock pressing against the seam. I want to reach out and touch, but this is Ethan’s show, now. I’ve already pushed him into starting this, so I want to give him the spotlight to do what he wants for now.