The antsy, needy feelings he’d aroused in me onstage were back, this time with a more powerful pull. Without the cameras and everything to be nervous about, I could focus on the way my body felt, and especially how it felt pressed against his.
He was huge in comparison. His length took up the whole couch. I felt petite and weak against his strength. I loved it. After six years of being the biggest and strongest person in the room, it was a revelation to feel physically helpless. My body was at his mercy. If he knew it, he didn’t show it. Not at first.
“Take off your shirt,” I said. “I want to feel your chest.” I didn’t think he heard me as he continued licking and focusing on my breasts. After a minute he sat back and tugged off his shirt. He had my full attention. I studied every inch of skin and muscle, taking note of how his body differed from mine.
“Oh no,” I said, rubbing a gentle finger over the skin on his broad shoulder, spotted purple as if an artist had taken red and blue watercolors to his skin. “You’re injured.”
He kissed me lazily as if we had years together, not a month. I knew in his mind, we had a future together. If he’d made winning me his goal and accomplished it, what was to stop him from assuming he’d impregnate me as easily? I wasn’t as sure, but I couldn’t let myself dwell on what could go wrong. I had him here for the next thirty days, and I intended to enjoy every second.
He refocused entirely on my chest with an intensity that would’ve frightened me if it hadn’t felt so good. I arched and moaned at the wicked things his tongue did to my nipples and the sensitive skin below.
“I’m fine,” he said shortly. “Is that why you’re staring at me?”
“No.” I sat on my knees, reaching a daring hand to stroke from his shoulder over his nipple down to his abdominal muscles. “I love looking at you. Your body is so different than mine.”
His muscles seemed to ripple to life under my hand. “I’m male,” he said. “You’re female, and a mature female at that.”
“I didn’t realize,” I said quietly.
“What?” he asked. “What didn’t you realize?”
“That you’d look like this. You’re so hard.”
“That’s for damn sure,” he muttered.
My gaze flew up to question him. “What do you mean?”
He gestured to his waist, where I could see the outline of his penis against the soft trousers he wore.
I stared. “I want to see it. Now.”
Ethan set a new record for removing pants. When he made to climb back onto the sofa next to me, I stopped him. “No, please stand in front of me. I want to look at you.” A hint of pink washed over his cheeks, but he tolerated my curiosity and stood like a stone sculpture allowing me to study every inch of him.
He was a magnificent example of a man. He was tall with broad shoulders that narrowed at his hips moving to long legs. Dark wiry hair covered his legs and a small patch was also on his chest. “You have hair there too.” I poked a finger into the nest of hair surrounding his penis, which pointed out at me.
He groaned.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” My voice was breathless to my own ears. I glanced quickly at his face then back down to his penis. It was this appendage I was most interested in as it was the body part most dissimilar to my own.
“You’re killing me,” he said, but there was a smile on his face. “Go ahead, you can touch me. And then later I’m going to do the same to you.”
I shivered at the thought of standing naked for Ethan’s eyes. Would he like what he saw the way I loved what I was seeing? I couldn’t get enough of looking at his body and wondering what it felt like. Hewantedme to touch him. I poked a finger at his penis and giggled as it bobbed sideways then back to center.
“Jane,” he said in a warning voice. “Like this.” His large hand wrapped around the thick shaft and he gave it a stroke. I watched in fascination as it appeared to get even harder. “You do it,” he said. “I’ve handled it enough to last the rest of my life. It’s your turn now.”
He didn’t need to ask me twice. I pushed his hand away and replaced it with my own. His skin was warm and silky and slid under my palm as I squeezed and rubbed. I tried every combination of touching I could imagine, feeling like a true scientist, yet fully aware of the aching in my own body. My lower belly was jumpy and heavy. The place between my thighs dampened. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were his harsh breaths and my little mews of discovery.
Suddenly he stepped back, pulling away from my reach.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m close to coming. I don’t want to do it in your hand.”
I dropped the offending hand quickly, remembering we had a limited time together. Quickly, I moved back to the couch and spread my thighs, welcoming him.
“Not yet.” He shook his head and moved to kneel on the floor in front of me. “I owe you that orgasm. You may have fooled the audience, but you didn’t fool me. I know you didn’t have an orgasm onstage.” Before I could respond, he bent his head to give me a kiss I’d only seen in research. His tongue moved through the curls of my vagina, finding my slick and swollen clitoris.
I moaned at the first touch of his tongue, stunned at the sensation. I’d seen videos of this act, of course, but had no way to experiment with such a thing. Ethan’s large hands slid under my butt and pulled me closer to his mouth, allowing me little wiggle room. Believe me, I wasn’t trying to go anywhere. My arousal spiraled out of control.