Page 87 of Vivacity
With difficulty, I lift my head so I can see her face. She’s flushed, mouth swollen and huge eyes almost all pupil. She’s the most spectacular sight I’ve ever seen, caged in as she is on this bed by my body. This is chemical. The very air feels charged. It’s intense, this feeling. Overwhelming in a way that goes beyond the physical. I don’t use drugs, but this weird, expansive, addictive high that I’m experiencing certainly feels like drugs. Like everything in the universe is as it should be.
‘I’m close,’ she whispers, eyelashes fluttering closed for moment. ‘Oh, Jesus.’
‘Look at me,’ I command. ‘Show me.’ I need to see this, need to be able to look into her eyes when she comes apart for me. She opens her eyes, her breaths coming in pants, and it strikes me as extraordinary that I can have this effect on her, that she’s as overcome as I am.
I slide out and thrust back in, and it’s slow and deep and so fucking dirty, with this weird, elemental overlay that’s happening, and I swear the sight of her face as I fuck her, as she climbs that onset of her orgasm, makes this doubly erotic. There’s something about undoing a woman as strong and unapologetically sensual as Soph that stokes my desire like nothing else on earth.
Her entire body is shaking. Our eyes stay locked. She looks almost terrified of what’s to come.
Good.
She should be.
I remove the arm I have banded around her and reach between us so I can pinch her nipple hard. Her face contorts, her eyes darting frantically over my face, mouth open in a silent scream. I twist her nipple, biting down on my lip savagely in an attempt to hold myself the fuck together, and drive myself harder inside her.
She breaks, falling apart in spectacular style, body bucking and bucking below me, crying out her orgasm. I press my forehead to hers and urge her on as I piston into her, my thrusts coming faster now. I’ve lost all control.
‘That’s my girl. That’s my girl. Give it to me.’
She’s practically weeping, and I know how it feels. There’s a ball of pressure in my chest almost as great as the one in my dick. As she claws at me, rolling her hips over and over so her greedy cunt can milk me and milk me, the heat in my lower body fucking ignites, my balls tightening impossibly as I go rigidinside her and then start pumping. And pumping. Emptying myself violently. Endlessly. Roaring out my own orgasm.
I find her lips as I rut through the rest of it, licking into her mouth, fucking her at both ends, palming her breast. Anything, everything, to prolong her pleasure and mine, to draw out the moment she told me she wanted never to end.
When I finally flop down on top of her, sated and depleted and mindless with what feels like peace, she’s breathless and giggling.
‘What?’ I mutter against her cheek, inhaling the scent of her hair.
She wraps her arms loosely around my neck. ‘I think the infamously cold-hearted Ethan Kingsley has just mastered the art of sex as a co-regulation technique.’
I lift my head so I can roll my eyes at her, but she’s not done.
‘Otherwise known asmaking love.’
CHAPTER 39
Ethan
‘You look even more pleased with yourself than usual,’ my old mate Brendan observes as he pulls out a chair opposite me.
I’m not sure self-satisfaction is a state I permit myself that often, but if he’s referring to my Caribbean tan and my relative level of relaxation, then he may have a point.
‘I could say the exact same thing for you.’ I stand and slap him on the back as I bro-hug him.
We’ve arranged to have a drink in the Parliament bar at the Kingsley Westminster. It’s been a while since we caught up—a function of my preoccupation with the Montague deal and his preoccupation with his EA-turned-girlfriend, Marlowe.
He’d never admit it, but I suspect it’s also partly due to the fact that he brought Marlowe in for a threesome with me before he’d admitted to himself that he was seriously into her. As far as I’m concerned, it was an amusing interlude, now forgotten, but I suspect he wishes he’d never done it. From what I can tell, the bloke is head over heels.
AndI’dnever admit how much I’ve been looking forward to catching up with him. When did I become the kind of man whose social calendar consists of business dinners and obligatoryfamily functions? Brendan's one of the few people who knew me before I became... whatever the hell I am now. In a life full of barely tolerated networking, Bren’s a breath of fresh air. And god knows I need that.
‘I’m feeling pretty fucking smug, actually,’ he says with his trademark wide grin as he sits down. He’s like a big, good-natured golden retriever.
‘Popped the question, did you?’
‘Nah. Although, between us, I went ring shopping last week. Brought Gabe’s fiancée Athena along to make sure I got it right—I think I told you she and Marlowe are best mates from school. She fuckingfleecedme. To say I got upsold is an understatement. I’ll need to work till I’m eighty to pay it off.’
I let out a genuine laugh. ‘That’s amazing, mate. Seriously, congratulations. When are you popping the question?’
‘I’m taking her and Tabs—that’s her daughter—to the BVIs after Christmas to give the new catamaran a whirl. Thought I’d do it then.’
