Page 52 of When We Are Falling

I start to get changed, pulling off my jeans and panties and slipping into the silk pajama bottoms. I notice him watching me in the mirror, his eyes following every movement.

“Like what you see?” I tease, turning around to face him, doing a slow spin wearing the pajama bottoms that skim the very tops of my thighs and the gray lightweight linen shirt I wore to dinner.

He rinses his mouth, still staring at me in the mirror. His voice, when he speaks, is low, and hits me right in my center, a spark of heat starting in my core. “Absolutely. You look amazing. Put the rest on.”

I laugh, a flush rising in my cheeks. We’re staring at one another’s reflections, his back to me but the hunger in his eyes on full display. My hands move to the top button of my shirt, just between my cleavage. “You know, if you keep spoiling me like this, I might get used to it.”

His eyes darken with that look I’ve come to crave. “That’s the plan.”

I get to the bottom button and let the shirt fall to the floor, holding his gaze. “Oh really? And what other plans do you have for me?” I’m wearing just the silk pajama bottoms and a white lacy bra.

“Plenty,” he says, his voice sending a thrill through me. “Take off your bra.”

Our eyes are locked in the mirror. “You’re impossible,” I say, but my voice is soft, betraying how much I’m enjoying this.

“Impossible to resist?”

Laughing, unable to help myself. “Maybe.”

I reach back and unhook my bra, letting it fall to the floor. Ethan’s staring at me, a feral look entering his eyes as his gaze rakes over me in the mirror. Gooseflesh breaks out over my skin and my nipples harden.

He finally turns and takes several steps toward me, closing the distance between us. His hands go to my face, fingers tangling in my hair, stormy gray eyes staring into mine.

“Then don’t resist.” He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear.

Shivering at his touch, my body responds. He captures my lips with his. The kiss starts out soft, but quickly deepens. I explore his mouth with my tongue, tasting him, while his hands move over my back, feeling the curve of my spine, his rough fingers setting fire to my skin.

I moan into his mouth, my hands going under his T-shirt, roaming over the firm of his chest and abs. He tugs his T-shirt off and pulls me closer, pressing my body against his. I reach down, my hand skimming the front of his jeans. He’s rock hard, and his cock twitches in response. A whimper, the need to feel him inside me growing stronger.

He breaks the kiss, his breath heavy. “Let’s take this to the shower.”

We quickly strip off the rest of our clothes, our eyes never leaving each other. He steps into the shower first, the hot water soon cascading over his body.

I stand there for a moment, staring at him. In the steamy shower, his body is a work of art—smooth, tanned, and perfectly sculpted. Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing down his chiseled jawline and over his broad shoulders. Each muscle is highlighted as he moves under the water’s flow.

He gives me a crooked grin. “Get in here.”

I step in and he grips my hips, pulling me closer until the flow hits me, running down my skin. Water clings to the curl of his dark hair, every drop seeming to accentuate his handsome features. He kisses me again, hands finding my breasts, fingers rolling and gently pinching my nipples until I moan.

Every muscle is defined and taut under my fingertips, as if he’s been carved from marble. My hand trails down his torso, over the ridges of his abs, until I find the hard length of him. My hand wraps around him, moving slowly at first, then faster. He groans, then pulls away from me.

“Turn around, princess.”

I do as he says, turning to face the blue designer tiles, hands flat against the textured rough of them, hot water cascading down my back. He moves behind me, kissing my shoulder, the back of my neck, his hands sliding around me from behind, his cock pressing against me.

His clever fingers find my clit and he rubs in slow circles, his thumb pressing down firmly, while the other continues to massage and gently pinch my nipples. I gasp, my body trembling.

His fingers continue to work their magic, the water running between us, and I moan again, body writhing against his. I’mgetting closer. He picks up the pace, his fingers moving faster. Every ridge and plane of his sculpted body is pressed against my back, his skilled hands continuing their movements.

My breaths come in ragged gasps as I get closer and closer, hands pressed against the textured tiles for support. Then I’m falling apart as he holds me up, muscles tensing and releasing with every wave of pleasure, my entire body exploding, burning up as heat consumes me from the inside out.

He turns me around, his hardness throbbing as my hand finds him again, gripping and pumping the thick of him, before he lifts me up. My legs wrap around his waist, back against the tiles, and his cock presses against the slickness of my heat.

“God, I need you so bad,” he says. “Fuck. The condoms are in the bedroom.”

“I’m on the pill,” I tell him. “It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” He holds my gaze for a long moment, and all I want is to feel him deep inside me.

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