Page 138 of Saving the Halfback

Chase took his coffee on the go, and Dad did the same with his tea. When Mom left to do the chores, I decided it was my chance. I had to do this now.

I walked up the stairs and paused outside the guest room, taking a moment to compose myself before silently slipping into the cool, dark room. Ethan lay on his back, sleeping still. His chest was completely bare, except for a silver cross that rested against his skin, the blanket down around his waist. The small breeze from the ceiling fan ruffled Ethan’s hair against his forehead. His face was relaxed and calm as he slept.

I walked up to the bed, reaching out to touch his arm. I meant to jostle him just a little, but instead, I found my touch lingering on his skin. His eyes opened slowly, as if he had been pretending to sleep this whole time and was waiting. He just stared at me, both of us frozen in a moment as our eyes locked.

Ethan grabbed hold of my arm, folding me into him and turning, so I now lay on the bed, looking up into his deep brown eyes. Words failed me. Should I apologize? Beg for forgiveness? Offer myself up in his place? I couldn’t bring myself to do any of it.

He held himself up on his forearm, his bare chest pressed against me. The cross now dangling between us, I reached up and held on to it. He didn’t pay any attention, though, as his eyes remained on me, soaking me in, and then his lips were on me. Mapping the curve of my lips, his tongue caressing, coaxing.

Ethan’s hand slipped up my shirt. I had no bra on because I was still in my pajamas. His rough and calloused fingers were gentle as he massaged and teased my nipple. I could feel the brush of his stomach against mine, and I wanted more, more contact with him. As I pulled my shirt up, his lips broke from mine, and he slowly helped me tug the shirt off. His head dipped down, but instead of my lips, he captured my nipple in his mouth. I gasped at the sensation as he licked and sucked, gentle and slow, taking his time. He trailed kisses up my chest and neck until he found my lips again.

Ethan pulled the blanket out from between us, so we lay up against one another, him in his boxers, me in my pajama pants. I could feel his hard length pressing into my hip, but it didn’t bother me. It didn’t scare me. This was Ethan. His fingers danced along my skin, my chest, my side, my stomach. They twirled around, exploring and mapping out my body, much like his lips did, moving from my lips now and then to kiss my jaw, cheek, earlobes, nose.

My hands did some exploring of their own, some memorizing of the soft lines of his body, the smoothness of his biceps, the softness of the hair along his chest and the trail leading down into his boxers. He paused as I slipped my hand down farther,holding his length in the palm of my hand, the girth more than I had expected.

“We don’t have to,” he whispered, breaking our silence.

“I want to.”

For a moment, clarity flashed through his eyes. “Are you taking anything?”

I nodded. “I have an implant.”

I grasped the hem of my pants and wiggled them down. Ethan followed my lead, slipping his boxers down and discarding them. At first, I was worried about the pain, because all I ever knew about this was pain.

All that worry was chased away as Ethan’s fingertips continued their exploration of my legs. My knees. Up my thighs. I was breathless and practically panting as he slowly made his way to my most sensitive part, his fingers teasingly light. He was so tender with me, it was hard to believe there would be any pain at all.

Through the fog of his teasing, I took his length in my hand again, not as gentle as he was with me. His cock pulsed with heat, the soft skin tight as it strained impressively in my hand. I tested out my grasp, moving slowly until Ethan thrust up into my hand.

He captured my lips again and shifted in the bed until he moved between my legs. I opened for him and reached up with both hands, running my nails lightly down his back while he settled his body on top of mine. It wasn’t suffocating, I wasn’t afraid, all I wanted was more. More of him on me, touching me, in me. I needed to feel him all around more than I’d ever wanted anything else in my life. My heart burst wide open for him, and as if he could feel the shift, he angled his hips before slowly pushing inside of me in one gliding movement.

A gasp left me at the sweet stretch. I held on to his shoulders as he kissed and nipped my collarbone. Every time he pulled out,I nearly whimpered at the loss of him. With each gradual thrust in, I felt a part of me come together with him. A part of me that had been torn and shredded now being nurtured and healed.

This was love making. This was tenderness. This was care. I had never experienced anything like it with Ed.

I could feel the orgasm start to climb, and as it did, Ethan’s pace quickened. His hand slipped down the side of my leg, lifting my thigh as he angled himself deeper, hitting a spot that had me biting my lip to stop myself from calling out. Ethan used one hand to brace himself, while the other hand slipped back up between us, finding my nipple and teasing it between his fingers. That was the tipping point.

“Ethan!” I gasped, finding my release. His pace became quicker, almost frenzied, until he plunged so deep into me, his cock pulsing, I was seeing stars.

“Stay here.” Ethan jumped up, pulling his boxers on. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

That was beyond anything I thought it could’ve been. All this time…Ed made it so painful, so unbearable, that I was terrified every time it had to happen. But he didn’t have to hurt me; he’d made the choice to hurt me.

I couldn’t stop the tears that slipped from my lashes.

Ethan walked in holding a cloth and closed the door quickly behind him. My eyes met his, and he rushed over, tenderly cleaning me up with the warm cloth. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

His eyes flashed. “I can trust you to be honest?”

“Yes.” He could trust me with anything, because I trusted him with everything.

I didn’t think I convinced him. Ethan reached out, wiping one of the tears away with his thumb.

A truth. “He hurt me so much during sex, I didn’t think it could ever feel so good,” I admitted.

Ethan relaxed, lying down next to me and pulling me onto his chest, holding me. “I’ll kill him.” His words were so tender that it lessened the intensity of the death threat. We lay like that for a while as I drew lines along his chest before he said anything more. “I have to get ready.” His voice was gravelly.

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