Page 10 of Love on the Edge
I don’t pull away.
I don’t want him to stop.
I roll my hips, pressing into his touch, and that’s all it takes.
He curses softly, then moves again, filling me little by little, his fingers stroking, coaxing, learning me with every slow, careful movement.
And I come undone for him, right there, beneath the stars.
I can still feel the aftershocks pulsing through me, my body twitching as the last waves of pleasure fade into something warmer, heavier. My skin feels too hot, my breath unsteady, my legs still weak around his waist.
I should let the silence sit. Let him move. Let him take everything.
Instead, I open my mouth. "Before we go any further, I want to talk about this."
I shouldn’t. But I do.
Ethan tenses slightly, pulling back just enough to look at me. "About what?"
He’s still above me, still holding himself up, but I know—if I tell him to stop, he will.
I swallow hard, licking my lips. "I don’t have time for anything other than one night. That’s all this can be," I say, rushed, like if I don’t get it out fast enough, I won’t say it at all.
His smirk fades, just slightly. He studies me for a second, gaze unreadable, before his lips part. "One night?"
"One night," I say again, firmer this time.
He watches me for a second longer, like he’s considering something, before the smirk returns—slow, knowing. "I can do that."
Then his mouth is on mine again, kissing me deep, pulling me back into the heat, into the moment, into exactly where I want to be.
I hesitate. Just for a second. Then I push the thought away.
I decide not to tell him. He doesn’t need to know this is my first time. Because he’ll stop. He’ll hesitate.
And I don’t want him to. I want to keep going.
I watch as he shifts, his breath uneven, fingers moving to his belt. The soft clink of metal fills the quiet space between us, followed by the slow, deliberate sound of his zipper lowering.
My pulse hammers, heat rushing to my face, my throat tightening.
Ethan keeps his eyes on me, watching my reaction as he reaches into his back pocket. A small foil packet catches the faint glow of the stars.
He tears it open with his teeth, and my stomach clenches at the effortless movement, the quiet confidence in the way he handles it.
But when he pushes his jeans down just enough and wraps his hand around himself, I stop thinking altogether.
My breath catches, my thighs pressing together instinctively before he settles between them again, his body warm and solid against mine.
Ethan leans in, his mouth brushing against my ear, his voice rough with restraint.
"You good?" Ethan murmurs, voice low, eyes locked on mine.
I nod, maybe too fast. "Yeah. I’m good."
His smirk deepens, like he doesn’t quite believe me, but he doesn’t call me out on it.
"Yeah?" His fingers skim down my thigh, teasing, testing, as he leans in. "Prove it."
