Page 31 of On Thin Ice

I moaned again, lost in the rhythm he set, the hard, devastating thrusts that had my whole body tightening, shaking with the effort not to come.

Above me, his breathing grew harsher, more uneven, and the snap of his hips lost their perfect rhythm.

He was close. So fucking close.

And so was I.

“Take it,” he groaned, the words guttural and desperate. “Show me how much you need my cum.”

I hummed around him—whined, really—my hips punching forward desperately again and again as I buried my nose in the short blond curls at the base of his dick.

“You need my load, Ethan?” he bit out.

I lifted leaking eyes up to his and nodded, just a slight lift of my head to give him consent.

Bell cursed sharply, his hips punched forward a few more times, and then his dick jerked against my tongue as he spilled down my throat.

I swallowed greedily, the taste of him thick and salty and a little bitter, hitting my tongue and making my whole body tighten.

“So good,” he rasped as his hips stilled, his large, calloused palm rubbing over my cheek so tenderly.

That was it—the dam broke.

Pleasure detonated through me, wild and brutal. I whimpered around him, my cock jerking helplessly in my pants as I came, hot and messy, and soaking through my clothes. My fingers spasmed against his thigh, scrabbling for something to hold onto, something to anchor me.

White noise roared in my ears, drowning out everything except the harsh sound of Bell’s breathing and the blood rushing hot and wild through my veins.

His cock slipped from my mouth, slick and spent, and I collapsed forward against him, boneless and trembling.

Bell cradled the back of my head, stroking slow, soothing circles through my hair.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed like that—me clinging to him, him holding me together—but eventually, he tugged gently on my hair.

I tilted my head back, blinking through the watery blur in my eyes, and found him staring down at me. His face was so open, so fucking tender, that it broke something deep inside of me.

“Ethan,” he breathed, his thumb brushing sweetly across my cheek before he brought it to his mouth and sucked it between his plush, pink lips.

That was when I realized I was crying.

CHAPTER8

BELL

I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until Ethan sagged against me, his body boneless and trembling. His face was pressed against my thigh, hot tears leaking against my skin, and all I could do was hold him there. Stroke his hair.

The hotel’s air conditioning kicked on in the background, the cool air raising goosebumps on my exposed skin. Outside our window, the city lights glowed against the dark sky, oblivious to the earthquake happening inside.

I kept my touch gentle, murmuring soft, wordless things I didn’t even think about, just needing to fill the quiet. My fingertips traced the curve of his ear and the side of his neck, feeling the rapid flutter of his pulse there.

If you’d have told me that Ethan Harrison was going to drop to his knees and beg for my cock, take me to the back of his throat like I was an answer to his every prayer, I would have told you to lay off the drugs.

But it had happened.

And it was glorious.

I slid my hand down to his jaw, tipping his face up, needing to see him.

Needing for him to see me, too.

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