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“You’ve been to my apartment. You’ve baked there.”
“I want you to take me home with you, Ethan,” she said, her voice low and warm. Heat curled through me, and I cupped her cheek in my hand. I kissed her then and asked if, she was sure. She wrapped her fingers around my wrist and a smile curved her lips.
“I won’t change my mind,” she said. “But I won’t offer again either. If you’d like to take me home, you can ask me.”
“Madison,” I said, swallowing hard, feeling a spike of nervousness, “would you like to see my apartment? I know it’s late. You might need to stay over.”
“I’d love to,” she said with a soft, knowing grin.
12
MADISON
It wasn’t like me at all. I didn’t go home with a man on the first date. Not even on the third date. Here I was, though, brazen as could be, asking Ethan to invite me upstairs. I was certain before he kissed me. Once I’d felt his mouth on mine again, I was desperate. Maybe I’d forgotten what his kiss felt like all the way down to my toes, or I’d convinced myself it couldn’t be that good. It was fierce, blazing through me. I felt like my dress would melt off from the heat of that kiss. He took my hand and held it, claiming it as though I were his in real life. Valet brought his car and I’m not even sure we talked on the ride to his building. He left the keys with his doorman and led me to the elevator. I pressed myself against him and he took my face in his hands, kissed me as deftly and slowly as a man taking his time to savor a fine wine. It was torment of the sweetest kind.
Ethan unlocked the door to his loft. I expected him to hold the door for me, acting like the perfect gentleman he’d been. Instead, he caught me at the waist, scooped me up, carried me inside, and kicked the door shut. A thrill ran through me at being picked up and taken to his bed. I kicked my feet a little, a laugh escaping me. He was so masterful, so romantic, that I couldn’t wait. I unbuttoned his shirt all the way to his bedroom. When he set me on the bed, I felt breathless, like I had run a mile. He took off his jacket and tie, kicked off his shoes and reached for me.
After I unbuttoned his shirt, I paused, pinned by the intensity of his gaze. He slid my zipper down, the cool air brushing my bare back. I shivered and he gathered me into his arms, warming me, heating my blood until I forgot I’d ever felt chilled. He was everything to me then, his broad shoulders boxing me in, his mouth on mine, his hands skating down my arms, raising goosebumps on my skin. I felt swept away, unlike myself. Like I’d been freed from something holding me back. I set my hands on his shoulders and drew back to meet his eyes. My smile must have looked as dreamy as I felt, because he claimed my lips again in reply.
Time slowed down, turning syrupy and hot. Ethan stripped me of my dress and shoes and raked his eyes down the bare length of my body. Self-conscious, I tried to twist my legs together, cross my arms, to cover myself somehow. He nuzzled my neck and ear and murmured that I was beautiful, that I should be proud of my body and had nothing to be ashamed of at all. I slowly uncurled and reached for him, still too shy to lie there on display before his eyes.
He shucked his clothing and joined me on the big bed, crawling above me until his forearms bracketed my head and his big body settled over mine with delicious heat and heaviness. I loved it. I wanted to lie this way forever with his big, muscular body caging me in, pressing me down. With one kiss, Ethan loosened the tension in my body and made me relax enough that he could set a big hand on my breast and palm it, roll the responsive nipple in his fingertips and tug at it until I whimpered and bit my lip and needed more. He lowered his head and tasted my other nipple, sucking it into his hot mouth and making me shout out a shrill, high-pitched cry. I gripped his shoulders, one leg finding its way around his narrow hips. He made a sound of approval and ran his hand down my stomach until he touched me in the hot, needy place between my legs. I didn’t know what to do or what to ask for. I was panting and breathless, needy and eager but unsure what I needed from him. Here was the difference between us—not age or success level, but the amount of confidence and finesse he needed to coolly move me past the nervousness and insecurity and right into the good part.
Ethan licked and sucked at my neck, then sat back on his knees. He parted my thighs with sure, strong hands and dragged my hips onto his thighs, so I lay open for him like a feast. He took one long finger and slid it through my folds, feeling the wetness and arousal there, leaving me trembling. Ethan’s face was painted with incredulity, the look as if he’d somehow won the jackpot. I twisted my hips, pushed at his hand, tried to get the friction I wanted, the fullness I craved. I wasn’t sure how to ask him for it, but my body wanted to devour his. My body was spread out before him on his lap, and surely, he knew he could have me, could have anything he wanted of me. I lay there in tense, hopeful silence, eyes riveted to him.
Ethan ran one knuckle between my wet folds and sighed, his eyes dropping shut, “Jesus, Madison, you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered. It seemed an odd thing to say, but I didn’t ask what he meant.
Soon, he palmed his cock, the heavy curve of it free and waiting for me. This was no ceremony, no planned event with choreography and an intimacy coordinator on some cable show. I wanted him raw and real and now. I wanted him to drill me from behind, fuck me into the mattress, take me every way he wanted. I was wound tight, and the first pluck of that string would send me spiraling to earth.
I think I begged him as he set his thumb to the aching bud between my thighs. I needed him, needed the sweet relief of his body joined to mine, the fury of his desire pounding into me until I could reach oblivion. When he parted my folds with his fingers, I wanted to shy away from his exploration, but every touch, every stroke felt so incredible like he stoked a wildfire inside my body that threatened to burn me down. I was nearly afraid of it as he gently pushed first one finger and then two inside my tight passage. He worked me, scissoring his fingers, brushing his fingertips against the spot inside the front wall of my pussy that made me clench and let out my breath suddenly as bright spots took my vision.
His touch gave me no quarter. I couldn’t escape from the deep waves of pleasure that already built from his simple, insistent stroking. He teased and caressed parts of my body that had never been touched so thoroughly, so pleasurably. I clutched at the sheets, at his arms, at my own hair as I cried out in frustration and breathless anticipation. I moaned aloud and beat my fist into the bed, a tear leaking from the corner of my eye as I struggled to hold on to the sensation that teased and coalesced and then receded again until my body was taut, frantic for the one touch that would skyrocket me out of myself into a riot of pure ecstasy. As he strummed and plucked, playing my body like an instrument to draw lush screams out of me, I tried to keep my eyes open, to focus on his face, the way he moved and touched me. He was masterful, every sure touch taking me apart and serving my pleasure.
Each time he took me right to the edge and then backed away, I groaned or swore in an agony of frustration. It was almost intolerable when he withdrew his fingers from me, my soaking, quivering tissues clinging to his fingers as if to hold him there, to suck him back in my channel and milk him, to somehow make him serve me. I lifted my hips toward him, an indignant cry escaping my lips as I reached up and, with effort, curved upward to meet his mouth with mine.
“Ethan, please,” I whispered, beseeching against his lips. The way his breath worked in and out as if he were drowning, his heart pounding, made me feel a little better about the mess I was. All I needed, all I wanted was him, every thick inch of him to spread me and stretch me until I didn’t think I could take any more. Something like greed pulsed through me at the thought of drawing him in, trapping him by my will until I decided to ride him to my release and then let him go. I wanted to wring such pleasure from him that he forgot his name. Because he filled me to the point, I almost couldn’t stand it, surely I could tighten around him and grip him in a way that felt as otherworldly as the way he was edging me into madness.
“Now, please,” I begged him, my tongue tracing his lower lip as my whole body shook. He claimed the kiss, drove his tongue into my mouth in a way that made me go limp in his arms. He surged up into me, that broad cock tunneling into me with deep, fast thrusts until he was seated fully within me. My heart pounded and I couldn’t get my breath. I was so full of him I wasn’t sure I could even breathe. He’d stuffed me and even as I tried to adjust to his invasion, I loved it. Loved that he was too much for me, that just his penetration made my inner muscles quiver and clench uncontrollably as if he were short-circuiting every nerve in my body by shoving into me and hitting every pleasure center that I never knew I had.
He grabbed my hips and dragged me down the length of his cock and then back up it, working me onto his shaft as I watched. It glistened with the trail of my wetness, and I reached down between us to touch it in absolute greed.Mine, I thought, wanting it stuffed back inside me. Even as I loved the gleam of my juices coating his throbbing flesh, I wanted it inside me even more. I bucked my hips impatiently and he gave a light chuckle. He tried to tell me to be patient, but he didn’t have the breath to speak clearly. I loved that this was taking so much control from him as well. I would have hated him if it were easy and natural for him to tease me to the very brink of insanity.
As it was, by his third thrust, when he ground his pelvic bone into me, I made a helpless mewing sound as he rocked and stirred within me to hit every spot deep inside my pussy. The simple press of his thumb between us ignited my climax. It felt like eleven hundred rounds from a machine gun that kept firing. I willed it to stop so I could get my breath, so the clenching in my legs and belly would release before I cried out from pain. Nothing stopped it, wave after crushing wave of helpless pleasure crested over me until I tried to squirm away from his grip. I was out of my head at that point, just frightened of the pleasure he’d created in my body, the way it seemed taken over, not my own.
He gripped my hips, holding me in place as he relentlessly pumped into me, the power of his thrusts making me moan with the impact. It felt like he was shoving more pleasure into me with each push, piercing me and refusing me the quarter, the mercy I plead for. When I thought he’d finally screwed my brains out, I twisted and tried to get free of him, but he plowed deeper, filling me, his sac pressed to my sensitive, tingling lower lips. The texture of his sac tantalized me, brushing against my bare sex. I reveled in it, in the wantonness of loving this, of having his thick shaft jammed in me so far that I could feel his balls on my bare skin. I was laughing as the climax rolled over me with sheer joy. I squeezed his cock inside me as hard as I could. I loved feeling him groan at the sensation of my inner muscles wringing him out. He held me close. I melted into him immediately, clinging and whispering how much I adored him. He soothed me, stroking my hair and my back until I was calm. Then we rocked together, joining again to share that moment, a slow, intense ride to his completion. He drew me into his arms and pulled a blanket over us, snuggled me, and shushed me when I tried to have a conversation for the sake of thinking I should talk and not use him or something like that.
He seemed fine from where we were. Maybe a little tired and covered in sweat like myself. I shut my eyes just for a minute, just to rest after the exertion and the release. My cheek on his chest and his arms around me were the second-best things I’d ever felt after all that had just happened. I started to drift off, but I stopped myself. “I’m sorry,” I blurted out, “I know everybody probably says this, but this really isn’t like me. And I’ve kissed all three of you. You and both your brothers. I’m terribly sorry that it could cause trouble between all of you. I should have been more considerate of those bonds before I just kind of threw myself at you.”
“We’re fine, Madison,” he said warmly, kissing my hair, “this has nothing to do with Noah or Leo. It was between us. Obviously, you’re free to tell them anything you like. But we’re not competitive in that way. We all like you a great deal. And we’re attracted to you. If it’s something you’re willing to consider, the three of us are here for you. However, you’ll have us.”
“What do you mean?” I said, stunned.
“We’re not jealous of one another romantically. We’re all interested in you and acknowledged from the beginning that you are a remarkable woman. We’d be lucky if any or all of us had a chance to be with you. What I’m saying is whatever you’re willing to consider. That’s all. No pressure.”
“You mean all three of you want to… you know?”
“Yeah,” he said with a crooked grin. “And this isn’t something we do. We don't pick up women and share. It’s more serious than that if it makes any sense to you.”
“I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’ll think about it. I don’t think I could keep from thinking about it now that you’ve mentioned it,” I gave a shaky laugh. It felt scandalous and naughty to even think about it, but in Ethan’s arms, I couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to curl up this way, sated and happy and warm, with all three of them in my bed.
