In Bed With the Enemy: Dating and Other Dangers / Dare She Kiss & Tell? / Double Dare. Natalie Anderson
and she relished the hedonism. Every movement hit better than the last, so in seconds she was breathless and barely coping with the surging sensations. His pelvic bone ground against hers, rubbing deliciously against her bliss button, sending her faster still towards breakpoint. Her so-sensitive breasts were flattened against his solid chest—more fantastic friction.
But the thing short-circuiting her completely was the way they stood nose to nose and eye to eye. Unbearably intimate. He kissed her—little teasing kisses broken by the occasional lush, deep one. She could see his passion, the raw, unbridled desire. It was so intense she had to close her eyes against it. She couldn’t believe that all the fiery want in his gaze was for her.
‘Look at me,’ he growled. ‘Let me see.’ As he spoke he maintained his rhythm, driving her, knowing exactly what he was doing—how close she was. How moved she was—how much she wanted him. How good he made her feel—how much more he made her want.
And that was what he wanted—she knew. He wanted to see her hit orgasm. He wanted to miss nothing. He wanted all her secret wishes—and to know that he was the one who’d fulfilled them. And just that thought—that frightening, exhilarating thought—made her come all the quicker. Because it was him doing this to her.
Her body tautened, then convulsed as the waves tumbled over her—so powerful that for an instant she was scared. But then it was too good to think of anything but how incredible it was. She didn’t know if she cried out—all she could hear was the hiss of his satisfaction, the grit of his teeth as he held her through the rapturous storm and forced himself to stay that half-step behind her.
She sucked breaths in harder, unable to recover as he thrust more forcefully. She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him so he couldn’t look away from her either. She half laughed, mostly cried with sensual delight, as she saw the signs of unbearable strain in his face—the clenched muscles, the veins popping in his neck, the pained, desperate look in eyes that suddenly widened, but were blinded as it swamped him.
‘Oh, yes,’ she sobbed. Her blood pulsed—in her lips, in her most intimate nerve centre—as the sight and feel of him, so tortured by her, sent her back to the pinnacle of ecstasy.
His movements went wild. His body jerked as he lost the fight against holding off. He shouted—a raw, masculine response—as release surged and the moment of ultimate pleasure was his. All she could do then was cling.
His hands shifted, clasping round her middle, and he held on to her tightly, his forehead pressing into her shoulder. She felt his harsh, ragged breathing gusting down her sweat-soaked skin. Her own breathing was irregular, her brain dizzy. Her legs were completely wobbly. So did was her heart.
‘Are you going to let me go?’ she asked, her voice woefully small.
‘No.’ With sheer brute strength he lifted her, sliding one hand under her legs so he could carry her more comfortably. Dexterously, between his third and fourth fingers, he scooped up another condom packet that had fallen on the edge of the sofa. ‘Which is your room?’
She directed him, and he walked with ridiculous ease. He placed her on the bed, but immediately followed with a smooth lunge. Taking the bulk of his weight on his elbows, he pressed his lower half firmly on hers—so she couldn’t escape.
‘Oh,’ she said, needing to strive for some kind of control in this shattering situation. ‘You want to be dominant?’
‘No,’ he breathed.
Nadia’s voice failed as she saw his burnt brown eyes had refilled with that passionate fire. He bent his head and kissed the last remaining brain cell out of her. His tongue swept into her mouth in gliding strokes, over and over, while his hands framed her face, holding her up to him—open. Yeah right he didn’t want to be dominant.
By the time he’d finished she was uncontrollably rocking her hips, grinding against him in a way that was desperate and hungry and unbelievably happy, running her hands up and down his slick, muscular back. He looked down with smug satisfaction as she panted and writhed beneath him.
His low whisper positively purred. ‘You’re not running out on me again.’
LIGHT blasted through the window and Nadia sighed, reluctantly admitting to consciousness—because now she had to face the music. She rolled over. He was awake, propped up on a pillow, book in hand—looking totally at home.
‘What are you reading?’ She tried to act normal, but her croaky voice let her down.
He showed her the cover. ‘Found it on your shelf. It’s quite good.’
Groaning, she reached down beside the bed for her phone. She had to check Megan and Sam’s arrival time. She was panicking that she had their arrival time wrong and it was a.m., not p.m. The last thing she wanted was for them to walk in on her and Ethan like this. Megan would read too much into it. Nadia was having a hard enough time stopping herself from doing that.
‘What are you doing?’ His voice had a slightly rough inflection too—so he wasn’t that engrossed in the book …
‘Updating my profile,’ she lied.
‘Of course you are,’ he said drily. ‘What are you saying?’
She tossed the phone away, satisfied her flatmate wouldn’t be arriving for another ten hours or so. ‘Nothing.’
He theatrically mirrored her action, tossing the book away and faced her. The sheet slipped to reveal his broad, bronzed, way too hot, chest. ‘So, Nadia, what do we do now?’
She had no idea. She’d bluff. ‘Shower?’
It was a good idea. Forty minutes later there was so much steam in the bathroom the extractor fan failed. The trip switch went when it was overworked, and it was totally overworked now.
‘Damn thing.’ Nadia pushed her wet hair out of her face and hunted for the stool to stand on so she could fix it.
With a grin Ethan nudged her out of the way, reached up and did it for her.
She glared at him. ‘Don’t treat me like some incompetent little girl.’
‘I’m not.’ He chuckled and held her still way too easily. ‘Don’t project your hang-ups onto me.’
‘I’m not.’ She wriggled, vainly trying to escape. ‘But people see me and think I’m some doll who can’t manage anything on my own.’
‘Honey, I’m aware of all you can manage.’ His hands slipped into soft places. ‘But isn’t it nice to have help sometimes?’
‘I don’t want to be patronised. I can manage just fine alone.’
‘So you won’t admit to any physical limitations? But you have some, Nadia, and that’s not a bad thing.’
‘I refuse to be limited,’ she argued. ‘I can and will do anything. My parents didn’t want me to move to the city—never believed I’d get a job in a big firm like Hammond. But while I may not have the size, I do have the smarts.’
‘And you prove your power even more with your stabbing words on the internet?’ He shook his head reproachfully. ‘Why does it matter so much?
‘You’ve not spent your whole life fighting the assumption that you’re not as capable as the rest of the population because you’re short.’
‘Yeah, but proving your capability doesn’t have to mean all by yourself. You know, some things you have to have a partner for.’ He picked her up and demonstrated just how much stronger he was—and what a ‘partner’ could do.
‘It’s not fair,’ she moaned.
‘Life isn’t fair. Yes, I’m physically stronger than