Page 52 of Stone Rules

I’m on the brink of detonation and he hasn’t even touched me below the waist. I reach down and tug his shirt from his pants. I have to feel around for the buttons because my mouth is still held captive by his. I push the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, his hands only parting from my body long enough to rid himself of it. I push his undershirt up, working my hands underneath it and up his taut stomach and strong pecs. He trembles under my touch and my heart surges. Everything about him wants this. He can’t deny it any longer.

When he breaks our kiss to remove his undershirt, our eyes meet. We are both hungry with desire. Bursting with passion. Then we tear at each other’s pants, our hands tangled and twisted until every shred of clothing we have is in a pile on the floor next to us.

I’m sitting on the couch and he’s on his knees in front of me. I lean back and look at him through lidded eyes.

“My God, you’re beautiful, Charlie,” he says, as his gaze rakes over every inch of my body.

I take him in as well. His broad shoulders. The light fuzz of chest hair that trails down into a perfect V on his abs. His strong swimmer’s thighs. His burgeoning erection that twitches under my perusal. “You are beautiful, too.”

He leans over and kisses my stomach. And as he works his mouth down my body in slow ministrations, it dawns on me that he used my first name.

When his mouth hits the apex of my thighs, he inhales my scent, moaning in appreciation. When his tongue glides over me, I moan in ecstasy. He laves and licks and swirls his tongue around. Then he slides a finger inside me. Then two. “God, you’re so wet, Charlie.”

Charlie.

His tongue. His fingers. His words. They all come together to bring me to the edge of explosion. Then he pulls back right before I’m ready to come. My head rises off the back of the couch in surprise, and I look down at him, my eyes begging and my lungs panting. He puts his mouth to my tattoo and kisses it. “Rule number eleven,” he says against my steamy skin. “All good things come to those who wait.”

His fingers enter me once again and his tongue rubs slow, delicious circles on my clit, building me right back up. I want to touch him. I want to do to him what he’s doing to me. I’ve never wanted something so badly in my life. I reach down and push his shoulders back until he’s lying on the floor looking up at me in question.

“Rule number sixty-nine,” I say with a sultry rise of my brow. “Give and you shall receive.”

A low rumble of a laugh starts in his belly and erupts from his glistening lips. “I’m rubbing off on you,” he says. “I think that might just be my favorite rule.”

I reverse my position and climb over him, giving him full access to me as my mouth closes over him.

Sounds of pleasure echo through his office as we feast on each other. The erotic pressure between my legs builds up so much, I have to break my seal on him to gasp for air.

I feel his balls tighten. “Uhhhng,” he murmurs before lifting me off of him. “I have to be inside you.” He reaches for his pants, quickly pulling a condom out of his wallet. His voice cracks with need. “I have to be inside younow.”

His hands are shaking so badly, he has trouble opening the package. I take it from him and tear it open with my teeth. I rise to my knees, appreciating every silken inch of him as I roll it on.

My knees are getting sore on the hard floor, so I sit back up on the couch and spread my legs for him. He scoots towards me, his sturdy knees more able to withstand the pressure as he stares at what I’m offering him. He positions himself between my legs and as he enters me, our eyes meet, emotion flowing from them as if it were tears. “Jesus, Charlie,” he says, not breaking eye contact as he glides in and out of me.

His eyes, they say so much more than the words leaving his mouth do. And in this moment, I realize why he’s not calling me Tate. It’s because we’re not fucking.

We’re doing something I’ve never done before. We’re making love.

He threads the fingers from both of his hands through the fingers of both of mine. He stares at our entwined hands as his thrusts become more demanding. His eyes wander up my arms when suddenly, he stills, his focus trained on the scars that line one of my forearms.

I rip my hands out of his and put them on his hips, shielding the under part of my forearms from his view. “Ethan,” I say, pulling his attention back to my face. “Don’t stop.”

I thrust my hips towards him, forcing him back into the moment. His eyes close briefly as he starts moving within me again. I grab his hand and shove it between us, not wanting to wait a second longer to reach the precipice of ultimate gratification. He rolls a slow finger across the place that will send me spiraling out of control.

“Oh, God,” I murmur, pleasure coiling inside me.

“That’s it, baby. Come with me.”

His eyes never stray from mine as we fall down the rabbit hole together. My thighs tighten. My stomach clenches. Short spurts of air exit my lungs as an orgasm tears through my body, ripping it to shreds as no other orgasm has ever done before.

“Aaaaah, Charlie.” He grits his teeth, his face contorting in excruciating pleasure as his cock dances inside my body.

He collapses onto me, matching the rhythm of my heaving chest, our bodies languid as our slick skin slides against each other. My aftershocks continue to massage him before he pulls out of me completely. He remains draped over me while we slowly recover.

When he pulls away, he looks down upon me in complete reverence, my body spent. Limp. Satiated.

“Wow,” I breathe, once my brain connects to my mouth again.

He laughs. “Yeah. Wow.”

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