Page 179 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
“Owen and Asher…”
“Will join us when they get here,” he says, sweeping me up into his arms as if I weigh nothing. “But right now? I need you all to myself. I need to apologize to every inch of you.”
Carrying me to the bedroom, he kicks the door open and lays me on the mattress, following instantly to cover my body with his. His body is heavy, warm, and entirely encompassing.
Leaving our clothes on, he slides his hand under the hem of my tank top and pushes it up. His large, calloused hand rests on my bare stomach.
He stops, holding his breath.
“Hi,” he breathes against my skin.
It shatters my last remaining defense. The terrifying CEO, the man who destroys competitors for sport, whispering to a bump that isn’t even there yet.
He lowers his head and kisses my stomach softly, reverently, over and over.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my skin, the vibration igniting the nerves along my spine. “Both of you. Mine. I’m going to build you a world where nothing can touch you.”
“Ethan,” I gasp, my hips arching off the mattress instinctively. The sensation of his stubble against my soft stomach is sharp and grounding. “Please.”
His eyes snap up, wild. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you need.”
“Fuck me, Ethan,” I beg. “Don’t make me wait.”
He sits up, his movements jerky with haste. He tears off his shirt, buttons flying, not caring where they land. His chest is heaving, his skin flushed. He unbuckles his belt, the sound of the leather snapping echoing in the quiet room.
He strips me quickly, worshipping my body with his eyes as he reveals me. When he pulls my panties down, his eyes darken at the sight of how wet I am.
“God,” he groans. “You’re ready for me.”
“Always,” I whimper.
He settles between my legs, spreading them wide, hooking my knees over his elbows. It’s a position leaving me completely open to him, completely vulnerable.
“Eyes on me,” he orders, his voice dropping to that CEO tone. The one demanding obedience.
I obey, locking my gaze with his.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he vows, the head of his cock pressing against my clit. “I’m right here. I’m staying.”
He thrusts.
It’s slow, deliberate, stretching me, filling me completely. I cry out, my head falling back into the pillow. It feels different. It feels deeper. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s the emotion, but everything is heightened. Every nerve ending is on fire.
“You feel incredible,” he grinds out, his jaw clenched tight.
He begins to move, his strokes are long and punishingly deep. He isn’t being gentle, but he isn’t hurting me. He’s grounding me. Every thrust is a promise. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his rhythm. My hands rake down his back, feeling the muscles bunch and flex as he moves.
“Ethan,” I moan, the pleasure building rapidly, a heavy, unavoidable rush. “I’m close. I’m already close.”
“Let go,” he growls, leaning down to bite the sensitive cord of my neck. “Come for me, Tessa. Come for your child’s father.”
The words break the dam.
I scream his name as the orgasm hits, violent and all-consuming. My body clamps around him, convulsing, holding him tight.
He groans, a guttural roar, and drives into me hard and fast, before he spills himself inside me.
