Page 113 of Every Beautiful Mile

My back to the bed, he kneels in between my legs, leans over, and cages me in with his arms. His normally bright eyes are dark as he hovers over me, and the way he kisses me isn’t polished or practiced—it’s wild.

Frantic.

Desperate.

His kiss is my mood.

He skims one hand down the line of my breast, the dip of my waist, and in between my thighs, where he rubs lazy circles around the spot that needs him the most.

“You like this.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. A fact proven by how my body writhes beneath him, how the thin piece of fabric of my underwear gets wetter as he rubs, and how the only sounds coming out of my mouth are gasps and whimpers.

My back arches off the bed as his hand works me to the edge with the help of his mouth, sucking his way across my breasts and up my neck.

“Ethan, I’m not going to last very long.” The words are as strangled as the sensation I feel, and it’s so severe it’s borderline painful.

“You don’t have to,” he says, breathy and hot against my skin, driving me to rock against his hand frantically and on reflex—primal reflex.

He pulls my underwear to the side and slides in one finger, then two. That’s all it takes. I shatter with a scream that fills the room while he watches me fall apart like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. My fingers dig into his back as the orgasm sweeps through me, fierce and fast.

His lips find the tender spot on my neck where he works his tongue in a way that sends chills across my already satisfied body, and the beginnings of a second orgasm start to swirl from that alone.

The way Ethan Mills uses his hands and mouth on my body is a religious experience. He kisses the spot between my breasts, resting his lips softly just above my heartbeat.

“You’re so pretty, Penelope.”

The simple sentence makes warmth curl in my chest and spread in every direction.

I reach down with shaking hands to unbuckle his belt and fumble with his zipper. I’m struggling to get air in my lungs, but he’s hard and ready, and I can’t wait one minute longer to know how he’s going to feel inside of me.

Clothed, the man is hard to look away from, but naked, Ethan makes me physically quiver.

He kneels above me, hooking his fingers in the sides of my underwear before slowly sliding them down my legs, studying every inch of me like he’s trying to commit my body to memory. When he swipes a finger in between my thighs, a fresh shot of desire burns through me.

He leans off the bed, opens the drawer of his nightstand, and grabs a square foil wrapper.

A condom.

A condom?

Despite every hot thing he’s done, and I have no doubt what he is still planning to do, a laugh bubbles out of me.

“Is that a condom?” I ask, hiding my smile with my fist as I lay back on the bed.

“What else would it be?” His eyes narrow as he bites the edge to rip it open.

I laugh as I say, “I didn’t know anyone over the age of twenty-two used these.”

“What are you saying, Penelope?” His face is so tense with desire it’s almost dark.

The laugh dies on my lips, and I swallow hard at the view of his very hot, very naked, very turned-on body that’s above mine.

“Nothing, I don’t know. I just never thought about it. I mean, I’ve only been with one person for a really long time and then no person for a really long time. But you’re you, so I guess that makes sense, you know? And I’ve already made sure I’m not having a baby this late in the game but—”

My words come out a nervous babble. During sex. I would have thrown myself overboard if I didn’t want him so badly.

“I’m clean,” he cuts me off. “Just tell me what you want me to do right now because I don’t think I will last another second with you being perfect and naked and me not being inside you.”

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