Chapter Eleven
Angel clasped Ethan’s strong hand and followed him up the pathway toward the house. The sun shifted and began its dip behind the trees. Suddenly, the clouds were highlighted in cool pinks and lavender, giving the white stones a rosy glow.
“It’s beautiful.” Her gaze was pulled in every direction, from the stunning mountain views, to the rustic yet elegant log cabin with its wraparound porch and massive iron candelabra chandelier hanging above imposing double doors. Stone detailing covered much of the facade. There was something powerful about Ethan’s mountain retreat. It reminded her of a medieval fortress, unyielding and indestructible, like the man himself.
She mounted the stone stairs with Ethan at her side. Their footfalls echoed her pounding heart. Her eyes followed the lines above her head. Straight, strong logs joined together to make a ceiling that she guessed doubled as the floor of an expansive balcony. From an even greater height, she could imagine the views would render anyone speechless. She held her breath as he reached for the handle and swung the door wide. A soft gasp fled her lips at the sight of the myriad beams of colored light slanting through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining one side of what could only be called a great room.
Ethan looked back at her, a soft smile playing at his full lips. He led her across the room. Her gaze remained pulled to her left, tracing the dancing beams of light and then outward toward the mountains, now violet in color, like a purple sea frozen in time. Tearing her eyes from their wild surroundings, Angel looked ahead to the towering, cold hearth, wide at the base and narrow at the roof.
“Sit and refresh yourself while I grab your bag from the car.” He poured her a glass of champagne and motioned to several small trays. Arranged on one were skewers of grilled chicken and pineapple, drizzled in a dark sauce; another tray held bite-sized, thinly-sliced bruschetta, topped with red and yellow grape tomatoes and basil; and there was a pasta salad boasting a rainbow of grilled vegetables and fresh herbs. Her mouth watered at the sight. She eased back in the supple, distressed, brown leather couch and took a long sip of champagne, her first. The bubbles tore down her throat, cleansing and invigorating. She took another sip, reached for a bruschetta and popped the colorful bite into her mouth. The fresh flavors mingled with the champagne. She closed her eyes to savor the taste.
She bit into one of the chicken skewers while she scanned her surroundings. The furnishings were a mix of rustic and refinement. Industrial sculptures contrasted harmoniously with log details and cast-iron antiques. Like the urbane yet badass owner—his mountain home blended city sophistication with rural charm.
She turned in her seat and looked at the opposite wall, above which was the second-floor loft railing. In the center of the wall, between two doors, was a large abstract painting. Streaks of red, white, and purple battled and danced with darker blue tones. The bold colors and lines were explosive and drew her gaze across the canvas to every corner.
“Do you like it?” he said behind her.
She jumped a little in her seat. “You startled me,” she said, her hand clasping her heart, which was now pounding at a dizzying pace.
His mouth lifted in a sideways grin that stole her breath.
She blushed and took another long sip of champagne, her eyes downcast, giving her a moment’s respite from the glorious sight that was Ethan. “I do like it,” she said, still unable to meet his gaze. She made a sweeping gesture as she returned to the couch. “I love it all. It’s eclectic, yet tranquil.”
He crossed the room and sat beside her. She lifted her head. They locked eyes. He held her gaze. She felt spellbound, drawn to his scent, to the feel of his thigh pressed to hers. He refilled the slim fluted glass she held and then poured himself one.
“I’ve never had champagne before,” she said. That wasn’t the only thing she hadn’t tried before. Oh, God, what would he say if he knew?
He leaned closer. “I’m glad we remedied that.”
She kept her eyes trained on the ceiling as she battled her nerves. “Thank you for fixing my car. It’s incredible.”
“I’m glad you like it. I know you asked me to junk it, but I couldn’t do it.” He moved even closer, his hand stroking up her thigh. “I find myself very protective of you.”
Her heart pounded. She dared to look at him. “You do?” She swallowed hard, her stomach fluttering.
He leaned close. His hand slid across her stomach, then gently gripped her waist. He kissed her, pressing his full lips to her cheek and then to the hollow of her neck. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, his lips a breath from hers—
“Ethan, I’ve never done this before either,” she blurted.
He pulled back, his eyes wide. “You’ve never done what before?” he said, glancing around the room as if looking for answers.
She groaned and grabbed a pillow and pressed it to her burning face.
“Wait,” she heard him say. He pulled the pillow down enough to see her eyes. “Are you talking about…sex?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face again, but he whisked the pillow away.
“Look at me, Angel.” His voice was low, but commanding.
She did as he asked and opened her eyes.
“You’re a virgin?”
She wanted to crawl into a hole and die, but, instead, she nodded.
He cocked a brow at her. “But I saw birth control pills on your night table, right next to some nose spray.”
“They’re prescribed by my doctor,” she groaned, hiding now behind her hands. She peered at him through her fingers. “I have allergies and irregular periods.”
He paused and licked his lips. “So, you’ve never been with a man?”
Again, she nodded.
A wicked smile curved his lips. “Let me hear you say it,” he said softly.
She let her hands drop to her lap. “I’m a virgin,” she whispered.
He kissed her long and hard.
“Again,” he said. “Louder.”
“I’m a virgin.”
“Again,” he growled.
“I’m a virgin!”
He scooped her into his arms and stood. “Not for long,” he promised, and headed toward the stairs.
He kicked the door open to his bedroom, all the while holding her gaze. She turned and buried her face in his neck.
“Don’t look away from me, Angel.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his.
“Don’t hide from me.” He set her feet on the floor and stood in front of her. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, his hand stroking down her hips and waist, then curving over her bum. He gripped each cheek and thrust her against him.
“You have such a hot ass.”
She blushed, and once more, her eyes shifted to the floor. But he crooked his thumb under her chin. “Remember, don’t hide from me,” he whispered.
Again, she did what he asked and held his gaze.
He cupped her cheeks. “If you could only see what I see when I look at you, you would never doubt yourself again.”
Her heart leapt. Then his eyes narrowed with piercing intensity. He kissed her. She melted in his arms. He tasted so good. He ran his tongue across the seam of her lips, compelling them to part. Gripping his shirt, she moaned as his tongue slid into her mouth, slowly caressing, tasting, making her heart race and her body ache. She reached her arms around his neck. He kissed her harder, deeper. His hands seized her shirt. Slowly, he slid it over her head. Then he pulled her close. She pressed against his chest, savoring the feel of his bare skin touching hers. He was so warm. His hard strength surrounded her, soothed her, making her body burn.
His gaze bore into hers as he eased his unbuttoned shirt down his arms.
She didn’t look away—she couldn’t.
Her eyes traveled over his broad, muscled shoulders, his wide chest, washboard stomach, and chiseled v-line. Then she saw his thick length pushing against the fabric of his jeans. Her face burned the instant before her eyes dropped again to the ground.
He took her hand and pressed it against the large bulge in his pants. “You don’t need to be afraid.”
Her heart raced. She dared looked up at him. “I don’t want to be afraid.” She swallowed, then drew a deep breath and pressed her hand harder against him. “What I want is you.”
With a groan, his lips seized hers, his kiss strong and demanding. She boldly met each stroke of his tongue. Her fingers wove through his hair, pulling him closer. He crushed her against him. His strength thrilled her, fueling her desire. He could break her, snuff her out in an instant, but he used his size and his hardness to protect, not to hurt, to pleasure, not to pain. Her hands moved to the shifting ridges of his broad shoulders, his raw masculinity helping her realize her own feminine rhythm.
He turned her around, her heart pounding harder than ever. His lips made a slow burning trail of heat down her neck, then across her shoulders and down her back. He branded her with his tongue. Heat spread throughout her body, building like fire between her legs. He unclasped her bra, then turned her back around and held her gaze. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the plain, white fabric away, his eyes never leaving hers, their blue depths piercing, stealing what little breath she could draw. His eyes dropped. He slowly reached out to touch her. His fingertips grazed her nipples. “You are beautiful,” he said softly, reverently. He gently cupped her breasts. “Has anyone ever done this before?”
“No,” she whispered, her breaths catching. He bent her back, exposing her creamy mounds. He lowered his head, laving his tongue across her neck and chest, then lower. His full lips surrounded her nipple, sucking, licking, tasting, driving her wild. A soft groan escaped her lips as she wove her fingers through his hair. Sensation pulsed where his lips and tongue tasted and teased, building and then spreading, coursing through her, racing down to join the deep, throbbing ache at the apex of her thighs.
He twirled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger while he pulled her close and kissed her hard, his tongue delving, teasing, savoring, his hands both gentle and biting, his breaths ragged, feeding her own hunger.
He unzipped her jeans and eased them down her hips. He dropped to his knees and ran his fingers along the waist of her white, cotton panties.
“Oh God,” she whispered. The ache was so strong. Her body yearned to be touched, kissed—she wanted it, needed it. She had never known such hunger. It filled her and starved her all at once.
Kissing her stomach, he eased her panties down, and pressed soft, full-lipped kisses on her newly uncovered skin. Cool air and his warm breath touched the heat of her. She gasped, gripping his shoulders for balance. Her knees trembled.
She stood in front of him, naked, her jeans and panties around her ankles, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to open her legs. Need for his touch consumed her. He freed her legs from her pants. She threw her head back as he gripped her ass and pulled her hips forward, opening her to the sensual magic of his intimate kiss. Her knees quaked. Heat surged through her, building where he lips and tongue caressed.
“Oh God,” she cried.
“You taste so good.” He stood and lifted her into his arms, then laid her down on the bed. His eyes roved over her, hungry and demanding. He stood next to the bed, his eyes now locked with hers as he undid the top button of his jeans. She squeezed her legs tight against the ever-building ache and gripped the blankets in fistfuls as she dropped her gaze to his zipper. Slowly, he eased his pants down. She gasped when he slid off his briefs and his full length spilled out.
His lips upturned in a sexy smile as he climbed onto the bed, his eyes like a predator that had zeroed-in on its prey. Instinctively, she scooted backward, away from his hungry gaze.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” He grabbed her ankles. “Come back here.” He pulled her back to the foot of the bed until her bottom was off the edge. Then he spread her legs wide. She was completely exposed. He ran his fingertips lightly down her inner thighs. Increasing the pressure, he caressed her thighs and hips with his strong hands, then grasped her ass. Lowering his lips between her legs, he blew softly, sending her almost over the edge.
“Ethan,” she moaned, his name a desperate plea as she lifted her hips, wanting so much more.
“Has anyone ever tasted you before me?” he asked, his voice low. He lightly circled her sensitive skin with his tongue.
“No,” she breathed, her heart racing. Her body throbbing.
The tip of his finger entered her. “Has anyone ever touched you here?”
Her hips fluttered up and down on his finger. “No,” she cried.
He slowly slid his finger all the way inside her. He groaned. “You’re so tight.”
He pulled his finger slowly out, then slid it back inside, stretching her, stroking her, growing the ache that gripped her body.
“Yes,” she breathed, straining to take more of his finger, but then he took it away.
He shifted and slid his hands under her, lifting her hips. “I want to taste more of your sweetness.” His tongue went straight to the heat of her. Slowing he tasted her, delving his tongue inside her.
“Yes,” she cried out. “Please.”
“Not yet.” He smacked her bum. Then rubbed the spot, the light sting morphing into a wonderful sensation.
“You’ve got such a gorgeous ass.” He smacked the other cheek, also rubbing the sting away.
She groaned.
“Did you like that?”
“Yes,” she cried.
“Every inch of you is beautiful,” he rasped before returning his attention to her wet, throbbing heat, stretching her again with his finger, readying her for his first thrust. Sliding her up on the bed, she reached for him as he knelt between her legs and stretched over her. The weight of his body, his strength, his scent, surrounded her. She clung to him, pressing her hips into him. Her body hurt with desperate need, fueling her frantic, hungry kisses.
He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her. Holding her gaze, he slowly guided his hard length inside her.
“Oh God,” she gasped, digging her fingers into his shoulders.
He pushed himself deeper inside her. She cried out as a sharp pain pierced her euphoria. Wincing, she pushed him away.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, his brow pinched with concern.
Pain shot through her, but she nodded. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, catching the tear she felt fall. He held still, his body taut beneath her gripping fingers.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the hollow of his throat. “I’m okay,” she whispered.
She closed her eyes against the pain as he pushed deeper.
He slid out a little, before filling her even more. The pain of being penetrated combined with her burning hunger. She wanted to cry, to scream, to beg for relief, but more than anything, she wanted the release her body craved. The sweet ache surfaced, overpowering the pain. Her hips thrust into him as if of their own accord
“You’re so tight,” Ethan rasped again. His whole body tensed. Every muscle flexed as he strained to move slowly. Hunger consumed him with a need he had never known, but he didn’t want to hurt her—at least any more than he had to.
He lowered his lips to hers. She clung to him. Her nails carved into his shoulders, down his back. He worried that she might crumble to pieces in his arms. But she didn’t tell him to stop or wait. She began to arch into him, meeting his thrusts, inviting him to keep going, little by little, stretching her tight sheath open until finally all of him was buried deep inside her. He strained to remain still, allowing her body to adjust to his. Then her arms came back around his neck and her legs encircled his waist. Her tongue grazed his lips.
With a groan, he deepened their kiss and rocked into her. Still kissing her, he slowly pulled out and gently filled her again, then again. Slowly out. Gently in. Slow and gentle until she gripped his shoulders harder. Her breathing quickened in his ear. He thrust deeper, harder. She threw her head back and arched to meet him, driving the pace faster, his full length clearly no longer causing her any pain. He thrust faster, harder. Her nails bit into his shoulders. He watched her sweet agony continue to build. She spread her legs wider, taking him deeper.
“Oh God,” she cried out. “Please.” She clung to him, shaking. Her muscles tightened around him, her thighs quivered. Her head rocked from side to side as she cried out, her body erupting. Her honeyed warmth clenched around his hard length, forcing him over the edge. He took her hands over her head and thrust deep and then again and then again and then his body seized. He cried out as he poured himself into her.