Burn Me Once - Page 50

I lean forward and hover my lips just above his. Close enough that I can feel his breath but not touching him. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s not my business.’

‘It’s no secret,’ he murmurs, not attempting to bring himself closer.

But then he shifts his hips a little, so I feel his hard cock between my legs. Desire shreds me. How can I want him again? All we have done today is touch, kiss, feel, make love, doze, eat and repeat. Suddenly the thought of going days without being able to have him whenever I want is anathema.

All the more reason for me to get the hell out of Dodge and prove to myself that I can live without the wonder that is Ethan Ash.

‘She died.’

It’s ice water on my flaming needs. ‘What? Who?’

‘Grayson’s wife. Matilda. A car crash.’

‘Oh, God. That’s awful.’

‘Yeah. It was years ago. Before I knew him. But so far as I know he hasn’t dated since.’

‘That’s so sad,’ I murmur, thinking of Grayson’s faithfulness to his wife.

‘There’s no guarantees in life, right? You just have to make the most of what you’ve got. Every day.’

He buzzes his lips over mine, lightly, sweetly, just so I get the faintest hint of him before he pulls away.

‘Speaking of Grayson—are we going to be needing him tonight?’

I arch a brow. ‘Threesomes aren’t really my thing.’

‘Then you’re missing out,’ he teases. ‘I meant do we need him to take you home?’

I draw my brows together and his finger lifts to the little divot between my eyes.

‘I want you to stay,’ he pushes on, the words roughened, ‘but I presume you’re going to do your disappearing act sometime soon?’

‘Right.’

I nod, but my body is screaming at me to stop being so stupid. What harm will it cause if I’m late in tomorrow? I can stay here. Spend the night in his bed and then cab it home early. It’s no biggie, right?

But then what? Two nights in a row is habit-forming, and I will not let this become a habit. Even if Ethan Ash is more addictive than any substance on earth.

‘I’ll get a cab,’ I murmur.

‘Stay.’ He pushes his fingers into my hair and draws my mouth to his, his kiss one of promise and pleasure.

I surrender to it on a sigh. ‘A little longer.’

A little longer...

I fall into his kiss. I have been wearing a shirt of his all day. He pushes at the fabric, lifting it up, and I obligingly raise my arms, making it easier, so that I am straddling him wearing only a flimsy pair of lace panties. His mouth drops to my breasts and I cry out as his tongue rolls over the flesh that is already so sensitive. His fingers run down my back and there is something so reverential in his touch, as though I am an object he was born to worship, that I feel a strange emotion lurch inside me.

His hands slip beneath the elastic of my underwear and he cups my ass, pulling me closer to him. I press myself down. Were it not for the barrier of clothing we would be together, and I want that.

I want everything.

It is never enough.

Should I have known that from the beginning?

Should I have understood how dangerous it is to play with fire?

Probably.

Would it have stopped me?

I doubt it.

This is as inevitable as day following night, autumn embracing winter. I want him, but I want more than that. I want to make him lose his mind as much as I am losing mine.

I pull away from him with regret, and he makes a sound of frustrated confusion. I drop to the floor between his legs and loosen his belt, my eyes holding his as I pull it from his jeans and then unclasp his button and zip.

He knows what’s about to happen and he doesn’t move. He stares at me, as lost in the moment as I am.

He is rock-hard and I bring my mouth to his tip first, encircling him with my tongue, my eyes locked to his as I tease him with what’s to follow.

He keeps his hands by his sides, balled into fists, his expression one of determination.

‘Something wrong?’ I smile as I take him deeper, rolling my tongue over him as I guide him to the back of my mouth.

‘Fuck...’ He shakes his head.

But as I move my mouth up and down, he moans my real name, low in his throat.

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