Page 42 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.

All I could do was feel.

Ethan’s mouth found mine again, a kiss that unraveled me at the seams. His hands cupped my waist, then slid higher, his thumbs tracing circles over my skin, setting off a chain reaction of longing.

I rocked against him, instinct taking over, needing more, needing closer.

He exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into my hips. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

I swallowed hard. “Then show me.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes, something that made my pulse stutter.

And then he did.

With a quiet growl, Ethan lifted me effortlessly, shifting us until I was beneath him, my back pressing into the couch. His weight settled over me, a solid, undeniable heat, and the sensation sent a shiver through me.

He kissed me again, slower now, like he wanted to take his time unraveling me. His lips trailed lower, down the slope of mythroat, over my collarbone. His hands followed, sliding over my bare skin with a reverence that made my head spin.

I arched into him, chasing every touch, every kiss, every slow, torturous inch of contact.

I’d had nights of passion before. With Mason, it had been reckless, all-consuming. With Owen, it had been playful, teasing, easy.

But this.

This was something different.

Ethan wasn’t just touching my body. He was learning it, memorizing it. He was savoring every inch of me like he had nowhere else to be, like I was the only thing that mattered.

Ethan’s breath was ragged, his body taut with restraint as he hovered over me, his hands gripping my waist like he was holding himself back.

I didn’t want him to.

I wanted to see him lose control.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I pushed against his chest, guiding him back. His brows furrowed, his lips slightly parted as he let me maneuver him until he was sitting back against the couch, his legs spread wide, his hands resting on my hips.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice husky, threaded with tension.

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I slid down between his thighs, my hands trailing over the firm muscles of his chest, then lower to his stomach, feeling the way his breath hitched beneath my touch.

His fingers flexed on my waist, but he didn’t stop me.

Didn’t even try.

I kissed a slow path down his torso, my lips exploring, tasting the salt of his skin as I went. His body tensed beneath my mouth, every muscle coiled like a wire ready to snap, but he still didn’t stop me.

He let me take control.

Let me unravel him.

And when I finally reached the waistband of his jeans, when I popped the button and slid the zipper down, his breath left him in a shuddering exhale.

“Aurora.”

His voice was almost a warning.

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