Page 48 of Midnight at the Magnolia

With deliberate slowness, he strokes himself, a provocative promise of what’s to come. I’m captivated, my breath hitching as I watch him, my own desire pooling like liquid fire between my thighs. He leans down, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind my ear, his voice a husky whisper, “And I want you to feel what I’ve been craving. I want to hear you scream my name.”

Yes, a thousand times yes. Ruin me.

His body covers mine, a blanket of heated muscle and pent-up passion. I can feel him, hard and eager, pressing against my entrance. My nails dig into his back, urging him on, impatient for him. He teases me, rubbing his length against my wetness, drawing out a gasp from deep within me.

“Look at me,” he commands, his voice stern yet tender. Our eyes lock, and in that moment, he thrusts into me, filling me completely. The world reduces to this, to us, to the rhythm of our bodies moving in sync. Each thrust is a declaration, each moan a confession. His mouth finds my breasts, sucking and biting, drawing out a cry of pleasure that echoes through the room.

He flips me over, his hands gripping my hips as he enters me from behind, his pace quickening. “You feel so good,” he groans, his voice strained with desire. His hand reaches around, hisfingers finding my clit and circling it, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me.

Leaving a wet trail up my stomach he grips my neck forcing my lips to meet his. He kisses me softly, deeply, as if we have all the time in the world, yet every second counts.

“I’m going to take my time with you,” he murmurs against my lips. His touch is no longer just a spark, but a wildfire, incinerating the cool, calculated walls I’ve built around myself, leaving me bare and vulnerable, consumed by the passion that rages between us.

His lips never leave my skin, tasting, exploring, as if it’s a landscape he wants to conquer and claim. “You taste incredible,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I gasp as he moves lower, his intent unmistakable. I whisper his name, a question, a plea, a final leap from the edge of my restraint. He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, holding mine captive, a silent promise that he will catch me as I fall into the abyss of our passion.

He reaches between us, circling my clit with a touch that’s both expert and teasing. Waves of pleasure crash over me, stealing my breath and my thoughts. There is only Ethan, only this moment, only this exquisite torture. I am drowning in him, and I never want to be saved.

I reach back for him, shattering as raw, primal need takes over. I feel him, all of him. Filling the void that’s now aching, throbbing, at his touch.

His pace quickens, his hips moving with a primal rhythm, a dance as old as time, yet uniquely ours. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through me, chipping away at my control, building towards a crescendo of pure ecstasy. The room fills with the sounds of our lovemaking, the scent of our desire, the raw, primal energy of our connection.

The world outside fades away. There is no case, no mission, no lies. There is only Ethan and me, our bodies intertwined, our hearts entwined. I feel the pressure building, a heat that threatens to consume me, a fire that burns away all pretenses, leaving only raw, genuine desire. I am on the edge, ready to fall, to surrender completely.

“Please, Ethan,” I whisper, my voice raw and desperate, a stark contrast to the composed exterior I wear like armor. “Please.”

He leans down, capturing my mouth in a kiss that sears my soul. Our breaths mingle, ragged and urgent, hearts pounding in a wild, synchronized rhythm.

“You feel so good, Celeste,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “Your body is begging for me.”

He pulls out causing a distressed whine to slip from my lips. Lifting me effortlessly he sits on the couch positioning me on top of him. His hands grip my hips, leaving bruises on my flesh as he thrusts up into me and pauses.

Leaning back I watch the pleasure crash over his features. it’s powerful, knowing that look is for me and me alone.

Then I begin to move, a slow, torturous dance at first, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through me, chipping away at my control. I cling to him, my nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on, desperate for more. Our pace quickens, his hips moving with a primal rhythm, a dance as old as time, yet uniquely ours.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, his voice rough with desire. “Take all of me.”

The world outside fades away. There is no case, no mission, no lies. There is only Ethan and me, our bodies intertwined, our hearts entwined. I feel the pressure building, a heat that threatens to consume me, a fire that burns away all pretenses,leaving only raw, genuine desire. I am on the edge, ready to fall, to surrender completely.

“You’re so tight, so perfect,” he whispers, his words fueling the inferno within me. “I can’t get enough of you.”

His words are my undoing. With a final, powerful thrust, we both go over the edge, our bodies convulsing together as waves of pleasure wash over us. I cry out his name, clinging to him as if he were my lifeline, my anchor in the storm of our passion.

We stay like that for a moment, our limbs entangled, our hearts pounding in sync. Ethan’s face is buried in my neck, his breath hot and ragged against my skin, a stark contrast to the cool, calculated world I usually inhabit. I can feel the sheen of sweat on his back, the trembling of his muscles as he holds himself above me, a testament to his dominant desire.

As our breathing slowly returns to normal, Ethan lifts his head to look at me. His eyes are soft, the fierce desire from earlier replaced by a tenderness that makes my heart ache. He brushes a stray strand of hair off my face, tucking it behind my ear, a gentle touch that belies the passion that still simmers between us.

“Celeste,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

I smile up at him, tracing the line of his jaw with my fingertips, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken bond between us. “You don’t have to say anything. Just hold me.”

He rolls onto his side, pulling me into his embrace. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, a soothing rhythm that lulls me into a sense of security. His arms wrap around me, holding me tightly, as if he were afraid I might disappear, a stark reminder of the reality that awaits us.

We lie there in silence, our bodies pressed together, our hearts beating as one. The world outside can wait. For now, it is just us, lost in each other, in this moment of pure, unadulteratedbliss, a stark contrast to the cool, calculated world I usually inhabit.

But as I drift off to sleep in Ethan’s arms, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers a warning. This is only a temporary respite. The case, my mission, the lies—they are all still there, waiting in the shadows. And sooner or later, we will have to face them.

For now, though, I push those thoughts aside. I am here, in Ethan’s arms, and that is all that matters. Tomorrow can wait. Tonight is ours, and I am going to hold onto it for as long as I can.

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