I'm about to say more but Ethan's tongue rubs against my nub. I gasp, then frown. I don't know what I find more troubling - the fact that he doesn't seem to care that we might get caught, or the fact that he's talking in between the wicked swipes of his tongue against my scorched, sensitive skin.
"Relax," he adds. "Just enjoy. And if you're worried about getting caught, just try to keep your voice down."
I try. I lean back against the balustrade and draw a deep breath. Then I close my eyes and try to forget about my surroundings. I focus on what Ethan is doing - on his warm tongue slithering inside me, lapping me up as I melt, on his fingers plucking my nub. They stir me up and the pleasure spreads throughout my body like fireworks going off beneath my skin. My toes curl. My fingernails rake the edge of the marble balustrade as a whimper escapes from my lips.
Shit. Enjoying is the easy part. Keeping quiet? Nearly impossible, especially as the pleasure escalates. I cover my mouth again to prevent sounds from spilling out, but my muffled moans still fill the air as Ethan's tongue moves faster. And when that tongue wields its magic against my nub as his fingers plunge into me, my hand drops. I grip Ethan's hair through my robe as my soft cries escape.
He pushes his fingers deep inside me and I come undone. My limbs tremble. My head falls back. My eyes squeeze shut. My mouth opens wide, but no scream comes out, just a gasp once the tremors of pleasure have died down.
I've had orgasms before, but never like what I just had. Those were mere sparks. This was an explosion.
Ethan finally gets back on his feet. I can barely stay on my own, so I have no protests when he lifts me in his arms. My bedroom slippers fall to the floor.
He carries me inside the room and sets me down on the bed. I stare at the ceiling as I catch my breath.
"Are you alright?" Ethan asks.
I turn my head to look at him and see the concern in his eyes, so I nod even though I'm not sure I am. I'm still light-headed, tired, confused. I can't believe I just had my first kiss, and so much more, and from Ethan no less, my grown woman crush for over two years.
"Should I stop?" he asks next.
With what? I wonder only to realize his meaning as he pulls on the sash of his robe. The white garment comes undone and falls to the floor. And my head rises off the bed. My jaw drops as I take in the sight in front of me.
Ethan is completely naked. For the first time, I lay my eyes on his bare chest, the muscles not bulging or laced with veins like those of a bodybuilder but tightly packed and smoothly sculpted like a bust of ivory. His abdomen, too, looks firm, though I can't fully describe it because I'm distracted by the shaft of flesh pointing upwards from between his legs.
I've never been good at measuring things by eye, but I can tell that it's well more than six inches long. And thick. I don't think I can wrap my fingers around it, though I suddenly have an urge to try. It certainly seems to be inviting me in all its glory, its swollen mushroom head glistening.
I swallow.
"Stella?"
I look up at Ethan. As if his erect cock wasn't proof enough, lust is written all over his face. And hope.
I know what he's asking. It's not a question but a request. Ethan is asking for permission to finish what he started, to have sex with me. And I don't have the will to deny him.
I sit up. "It's okay."
I'm twenty-six. It's about time I do away with my virginity, and I can think of no better man to lose it to.
Ethan climbs on top of the bed. I wrap my arms around him. Again, he captures my lips. His tongue makes its way inside my mouth as he pushes me down. I taste something sweet.
Is this... what I taste like?
Ethan grabs the sash around my waist. One tug and the robe falls to my sides. He pulls my underwear off. Then he lifts his head and takes a moment to look at my body.
I turn my head to the side. Even then, I feel his scorching gaze